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Love in the Shadows

I cried… while talking.
Not in desperation,
but in that quiet, desperate kind of love—
the kind that pours through a heart
already starting to break.

He looked at me
and saw weakness.
But he didn’t see the storm inside—
the lightning beneath my skin,
the thunder in my veins.

I had scars.
Not the kind you can touch,
but they were there—
softly, secretly,
they were there.

I was lost.
Not in the world—
but in him.
In the space between his eyes and mine,
in the silence where I waited
for him to see me unravel.
But he never looked deep enough—
never saw where I was fading.

I’m disappearing.
Quietly, at first—
a shadow slipping through the dark,
unnoticed.
Fading into the echo of a love
that once blazed,
now flickering with the faintest breath.

I’m lost in a loop—
of wanting him to see me,
knowing he never will.
A loop of giving,
of bleeding,
of loving him so deeply,
yet never feeling seen.
Never found.

This isn’t a lie—
this is the truth of loving in the dark,
when all you want is to be held,
but the space between you
becomes an endless abyss.

And still—
I stay.
Not because I’m weak,
but because I remember
how his touch felt like warmth—
even when it burned.

This is love.
A love that consumes,
and still,
leaves me vanishing in the shadows.
But I’d rather disappear in his love
than live without it.

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