“Real Tears Are Not Those That Fall From The Eyes And Cover The Face, But Those That Fall From The

The flowers inside of me are withering,

Blues, pinks, and purples—

All fading away.

Where did the time go?

I’ve watered the garden within me,

Ive been vigilant.

So why?

Tell me why the colors are vanishing,

Tell me why I am fading away,

And listen before I go.

Tell me of the times I was vibrant inside,

Remind me of my favorite songs,

And all I used to be infatuated with.

Plant a new garden inside of me,

This time, you can have the seeds

And the watering can.

For I do not trust myself with them anymore.

I wish for bluebells

And lilac petals this last time around,

Then I will finally be able to rest.

I loved a girl

like the earth loves the rain,

knowing she’d never stay,

but needing her just the same.

She cried once in my arms

and I caught her tears

as if they were stars

fallen just for me...

but she wept for him.

I bandaged wounds

carved by another man’s hands,

whispering lullabies

to a heart that beat for someone else.

Every time she broke,

I shattered more quietly.

She kissed me...

like a door half-open,

warmth lingering on the threshold,

but her soul still pacing

somewhere far inside a house

I was never invited to live in.

And still,

I gave her my all,

a love without borders,

a fire without fuel,

a sea willing to drown

just to hold her reflection

for one more second.

Is this not the cruel poetry of love?

To give,

not for return,

but because you were born

with hands that only know how to hold,

even when holding means breaking.

They say unrequited love

is the purest kind.

Perhaps because it never has the chance

to rot with reality.

It stays eternal;

not because it lives,

but because it dies

beautifully.

To love like this

is to bleed in silence

and call it devotion.

To smile through heartbreak

because her happiness,

even in someone else's arms...

still feels holier

than my own.

- Cyrus K.

I want to lose myself in your love

make you my home again.

But your happiness doesn't belong to me

it is she that makes you bleed

and I watch without being seen.

“It’s amazing how much damage can be done when you have nothing but good intentions.”

— Tom Marin

I was the moth.

Not blind,

but aching.

I was not deceived by the flame,

I longed for its ruin.

To be undone in that heat,

to burn knowing,

was a worship beyond reason.

A thousand lifetimes in darkness

could never equal

one death

in such light.

-Cyrus K.

2 April, 1937 Letters to Véra by Vladimir Nabokov

I hold my brother on my lap,

I don't tell him to calm,

Or hush his sobs,

He does that himself.

I cannot stop his world ending,

But I am his sister, and as long as I stay,

He has a part of his world still there.

Sweetness 4 You

the fates can't let us collide

you see

I'm cursed

my days filled with anxiety

but your voice

god, your voice

it lingers in the marrow of my mind

like a prayer never answered

like worship turned wound

an altar trembling in your shadow

i know it's hard for you now

so collaps into me

drown me sweetly

steep into my very being

my body and soul is all yours

not even the holy dare to enter

untouched even by the divine

do you think

"would their eyes forget me

if i buried myself beneath the waves?"

I know

you do

you wear it like skin

but my love, your fate is a prophecy

they would go blind

before they ever looked away

they would die for you

bleed for you

the heavens would fight

for an eternity

to claim your darkness

and to breathe YOUR NAME once

though the gods themselves choke on it

And I will kiss every single scar on your body and soul, to remind you that love doesn't

have to hurt.

Ginnie Bale