๑

i live for the theme (and you)

I love you in a way that stains my bones,
          a fire too wild for its own hands,
          a storm that rises even as I beg it to rest.
          I have never felt this before—
          not like this, not this deep, not this raw.
          
          It is not love; it is something crueler,
          something that presses against my ribs
          until I cannot breathe,
          something that drowns me in your absence
          and devours me in your presence.
          
          If I could tear my heart from my chest,
          if I could silence the way it calls your name,
          I would
          not because I do not want to love you,
          but because I know my love is a burden,
          a weight you should not have to carry.
          
          I am sorry
          for feeling this much,
          for letting my heart betray me,
          for wishing, even for a moment,
          that you might hold this love gently
          instead of turning away.
          
          I love you,
          and it hurts,
          and it will not stop.

do you think it’s possible loving someone healthily if you don’t love yourself?

Your dark eyes bloom like midnight seas,
          where whispered winds weave through the trees.
          A boundless depth, a shadowed grace,
          where time itself slows its embrace.
          
          They hold the stars—no need for light,
          for even dusk bows in your sight.
          A universe behind each glance,
          a secret world, a silent dance.
          
          The moon leans close to catch their gleam,
          soft silver drowned in onyx dream.
          No ember burns, no jewel glows bright,
          as deep as they, as full of night.
          
          I lose myself within their hue,
          where galaxies are born anew.
          The tides obey their gentle call,
          I fall and fall and long to fall.
          
          No poet’s ink could trace their fire,
          nor silence hush my soul’s desire.
          For in those depths, both wild and wise,
          I live, I breathe—your dark, dark eyes.

I love ur theme what :0

omg your acc looks so cool

never have i ever missed smn so much all love songs are abt them atp (thats you)

Almost 4:30am and I'm still thinking about how we got bluesung back

If I could write you in water,
          I’d let the river carry my love to your hands,
          let every ripple whisper your name
          as it rushes to meet the sea.
          
          If I could paint you in fire,
          I’d set the sky alight with our longing,
          let the embers etch your silhouette
          into the marrow of my soul.
          
          You are the hush before a storm,
          the petal that lingers on the wind,
          the golden hour where time forgets itself—
          and I, too, forget everything but you.
          
          No language can cradle the depth of this feeling,
          no constellation can chart its course.
          All I know is that I am lost in you,
          and I do not wish to be found.

I have searched the world for words,
          for syllables soft enough to hold you,
          for verses vast enough to mirror the ocean
          that swells within your eyes.
          
          You are the quiet between heartbeats,
          the breath before a whispered confession,
          the golden thread that weaves light
          into the dim corners of my existence.
          
          If the wind could carry my longing,
          it would weave its fingers through your hair,
          press against your lips like a prayer,
          and tangle itself in the spaces between your ribs,
          where I wish to rest forever.
          
          You are dawn breaking on trembling skin,
          you are dusk folding the sky into an embrace.
          I have knelt before the altars of poetry,
          but no sonnet, no hymn, no sacred prose
          could ever be worthy of your name.
          
          So take this—
          not a poem, not a plea, not a promise—
          but a piece of my soul,
          laid bare before you,
          aching to be held.