➳ ᴄʜᴀꜱɪɴɢ ᴍᴇᴛᴀᴘʜᴏʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍɪɴᴇ © ⠀#poetry⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ☪︎ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʏ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇꜱ ʜᴀᴜɴᴛɪɴɢ.
In orbit ☽
Joined October 2025
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Nights with you,
mornings with you,
everything with you.
I want the hours when the moon is high
and neither of us is ready to sleep,
when the whole world has gone quiet
and somehow we are still finding things
to tell each other.
I want the mornings, too—
sleep still tangled in our bodies,
your hair a mess,
coffee going cold somewhere
because I would rather stay close
a little longer.
But more than that,
I want the unremarkable hours.
The grocery store.
The long drives.
The bad moods and laundry piles.
Your hand reaching for mine
without either of us thinking about it.
I don’t only want the parts of you
that feel like poetry.
I want the punctuation.
The pauses.
The unfinished sentences.
The days when nothing extraordinary happens
except that I get to exist beside you.
Nights with you.
Mornings with you.
A whole ordinary life with you.
That is the kind of forever
I could believe in.
— Everything With You ©️
Poet After Dark Æ⃝ 🩸 retweeted
Loving you feels like destiny, written into the deepest corners of my soul. Even if the stars forgot to shine, my heart would still remember your name, whispering it into eternity.
Poet After Dark Æ⃝ 🩸 retweeted
They choose each other with full knowledge of what that choice might cost them, refusing to mistake the intoxicating feeling of being desired for a love that sees them clearly but is built on flattering misunderstandings.
They want something that can survive the truth of who they are... Neither wants to be loved only for their softness, like a blind believer devoted to a distorted doctrine that preaches tenderness until that same tenderness bares its teeth... then condemns it for daring to have fangs.
🩸🥀
Some people have never
heard their own name
spoken with tenderness.
Think about that.
An entire lifetime answering
to something that has never
sounded like a place to rest.
Sometimes I wonder whether
the ocean knows how many
people have stood at its edge,
asking it questions they couldn’t
bring themselves to ask another
human being.
How many secrets have been
carried away by its waves. How
many confessions have dissolved
into the salt.
And how many people went there hoping the ocean would tell them
what to do, only to discover that
even something vast enough to
swallow the world cannot tell you
how to live in it.
Think about the number
of people who have looked
at the same moon while
experiencing entirely different
lives.
Someone celebrating.
Someone grieving.
Someone making a decision
they’ll never undo. The sky has witnessed everything, and somehow,
it has never learned to look away.
There is a version of me who still exists somewhere in the past, completely unaware that I will spend years trying to remember what it felt like to be them.
Sometimes I think about the ordinary afternoons I never knew were endings.
The last time I walked into a room and everyone I loved was still alive.
The last time I laughed without something heavy waiting for me when the laughter stopped.
The last time the world felt like a place I belonged to, rather than somewhere I was simply learning to survive.
Nobody tells you that growing older is a strange kind of haunting.
You become a house full of people who no longer exist.
The child who believed everything could be fixed. The teenager who thought there would always be more time. The person who made plans with people whose names now feel like abandoned addresses.
And somehow, you carry all of them.
You buy groceries. You answer the phone. You remember to put gas in the car.
All while entire lifetimes quietly disappear inside you.
I think that’s what unsettles me most about being alive.
Not that everything eventually ends.
But that so many things end without making a sound.
No final conversation. No closing door. No moment important enough to make you stop and memorize it.
Just an ordinary Tuesday that becomes a place you can never visit again.
And somewhere in the middle of all this becoming, I wonder whether the person I used to be would recognize me.
Or whether we would pass each other on the street, two strangers carrying the same memories, and feel an inexplicable ache neither of us could name.
©️
Some people arrive like punctuation. Others feel like the sentence your soul has been trying to finish its entire life.
Perhaps the most dangerous
thing about tenderness is how
quietly it ruins your appetite for anything less. One genuine
moment, and suddenly every
almost feels like starvation. ©️
I want the kind of chemistry
that makes silence feel indecent. Where nothing has happened,
nothing has been promised,
and somehow, we've already
crossed a thousand invisible lines. ©️
There are things I would
only confess in the dark.
Not because they're shameful,
but because some truths are
so tender that even daylight
feels like an intrusion. ©️
I wonder what it would feel
like to be someone's favorite
loss of control. Not chaos.
Not destruction. Just the
beautiful surrender of no
longer needing to protect
themselves from being loved.©️
There is a kind of wanting that
has nothing to do with skin.
It is the unbearable thought
of someone knowing exactly
where your darkness lives
and choosing to leave the light on. ©️
Somewhere, a stranger is
living an ordinary Friday,
completely unaware that
one day, the sound of their
breathing might become my
favorite kind of peace. ©️
I don't want to be someone's
beautiful distraction. I want to
be the place their thoughts
wander when the world finally
stops asking them to be anything.©️
There are places inside me
that have never been touched,
yet somehow, they remember
what it feels like to be missed. ©️
I think the most intimate
thing two people can do is
become quiet together
and discover that neither
feels the need to disappear.©️
Poet After Dark Æ⃝ 🩸 retweeted
Florence Pugh and Hailee Steinfeld are rumored to star as lovers in a modern remake of the iconic 1996 neo-noir thriller 'BOUND', with Lana and Lilly Wachowski rumored to return as directors!
The duo is reportedly being considered for the roles of Corky and Violet in a high-stakes mob heist.
Poet After Dark Æ⃝ 🩸 retweeted
I’m the generation that never grew up,
we just learned to hide our childhood
behind responsibilities, heartbreaks,
and a world that asked us to be strong.
We still chase the songs that raised us,
laugh at the memories that shaped us,
and carry dreams too stubborn to die.
We grew older,
not necessarily wiser,
we simply became children
who learned how to survive adulthood….
Poet After Dark Æ⃝ 🩸 retweeted
THE GIRL MY HEART WILL ALWAYS ADMIRE 🌹❤️
Some girls are beautiful to the eyes,
But you, my dear, are poetry in disguise.
A masterpiece that heaven took its time to create,
A beauty so rare, it leaves my heart captivated.
Oh, those Moorish eyes, so deep and divine,
Poet After Dark Æ⃝ 🩸 retweeted
You've probably heard this a hundred times before. I have, too, but I still think it's worth saying to whoever needs to hear it. You don't deserve to lose your life to the pain you're going through... and I know that because I've been there myself.
I still have those thoughts sometimes, even though I'm doing much better now. Things can get better. Maybe not as quickly as we hoped, maybe not in the way we expected, but they can.
This life, this earth, this world won't last forever, and neither will everything we're going through... so please, stay. I'm not asking you to be strong because I'd be a hypocrite if I asked you to do something I still struggle with myself.
I'm not asking you to have everything figured out, either... just try. And if trying feels like too much today, take it one moment at a time. You don't have to earn your place in this world. You're worthy of being here, even if nobody has ever made you feel that way.
And trust me, I'm not saying any of this to sound profound or anything like that. I'm saying it because I've been there five times, and if I hadn't kept trying, if I hadn't had people reminding me that my life was worth holding on to, I might not be here writing this now.
Believe me when I tell you that you're worthy. Not because of how much money you make, how hard you work, what you've accomplished, or how useful you can be to other people. None of those things can make you more or less deserving of being alive.
You're worthy, even on the days when you can't see it yourself. So, please stay long enough to give yourself the chance to see it, too.
Be safe.
“A Letter For Whoever Needs to Read This”🩸🥀