Dive Deep into Creativity: Discover, Share, Inspire
I wasn’t asking for much, was I? Just a hand that wouldn’t let go when life got heavier than love. Just eyes that could see the mess inside me and say “stay anyway.” I only asked for forever once. Just once. But forever is expensive when people have pockets full of half-promises and hearts stitched together with exit wounds. They said “I love you” like it was currency, spent fast, forgot faster. But me? I meant every word like an oath. I carved it into my ribs — I don’t love on rental, I love like home. And maybe that’s my tragedy — giving forever to people who were only passing through. So here I am again, writing poems to ghosts, building altars out of ache, loving harder in memory than I was ever loved in real time. And yet — I’d still do it all again. Because some hearts don’t know how to love small.