Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

"Sometimes, the heart holds on in silence—tied to old habits, haunted by what could never be.
cry swallowed by shadows, a confession born from obsession and self-betrayal. This is not a love poem. It’s the echo of wanting what was never mine to hold"

The past still hums beneath my skin,
an ache, a whisper, soft as sin.
The urge returns—
to speak his name
and stake my claim
without a shame.

But oh,
I weave deceit
with every breath I dare repeat.
It’s not the world I seek to fool—
it’s me,
the liar,
the longing fool.

And now,
these thoughts, they bloom and burn:
What if I claimed him in return?
As if my heart could rewrite fate,
as if desire could recreate
the right to love,
the right to stay—
when I threw that all away.
I know—
don’t I always know?
He shines beyond what I could show.

Cazzo...
Still, I dream him mine
in secret rhyme.

And so, I wear the silence well,
a ghost who lingers in his spell.
No kiss, no word, no sacred sign—
just old habits
and the lie
that he was ever mine.

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