Poetry channel(poems,books,stories) ❤️💋💋💋

Don’t just want me tell me how. Say it like you’re tasting the thought. Say it like a growl softened into velvet. Whisper what your hands would do if words were skin. Tell me where they’d rest, where they’d explore, where they’d beg me to stay. Say you want me not in passing, but in detail. I want to feel the heat rising between each word.

An Emotional Poem About Feeling Broken, Tired, and Searching for Hope There are nights when the silence feels louder than thunder, when the walls know my sadness better than people do. I sit with my thoughts like a storm trapped inside a small room, trying to understand how life became this heavy. I smile when I must, laugh when expected, speak when spoken to, but deep inside I feel lost. Lost between who I used to be and who I am becoming. Lost between dreams I once carried proudly and disappointments that now drag behind me like chains around my soul. Sometimes I stare at the ceiling for hours, asking questions no one can answer. “Will things ever change?” “Will I ever feel whole again?” “Why does everyone else seem to know where they’re going while I’m drowning in confusion?” People say, “Stay strong.” But they do not see how exhausting strength becomes when every day feels like survival. They do not see the hidden tears, the silent panic, the moments I break apart quietly so no one notices. I carry memories that still ache when touched. Words that wounded me. Promises that disappeared. People who left without realizing they took pieces of me with them. And now I walk through life trying to find myself among ruins I never created. I feel lost in crowded rooms. Lost in conversations. Lost while staring into mirrors searching for someone familiar. Sometimes I miss the version of me that believed life would be kinder. The version that trusted easily, loved deeply, dreamed fearlessly. Now I overthink everything. Every silence feels personal. Every goodbye feels permanent. Every delay feels like failure. And the hardest part? Pretending I’m okay because I don’t want to become a burden to others. But tonight, I will admit the truth. I am tired. Tired of carrying invisible pain. Tired of pretending healing is linear. Tired of searching for light while walking through endless darkness. Still… somewhere beneath this sadness, a tiny part of me refuses to give up. A fragile voice whispers, “Keep going.” Even when I cannot see the road ahead. Even when my heart feels shattered. Even when loneliness wraps around me like winter without end. Maybe being lost does not mean I am failing. Maybe it simply means I am still searching. Searching for peace. Searching for meaning. Searching for the version of myself that pain tried to destroy. And perhaps one day I will look back at these broken nights with softer eyes. Perhaps one day the heaviness will loosen its grip. The confusion will clear. The wounds will stop bleeding. Perhaps one day I will no longer whisper, “I feel lost,” but instead say, “I finally found my way.”

You know what, You are my comfort zone, But why this time, I can't find comfort in you? Why being in it this time, Feels as if living, This place isn't mine anymore. It's as if my own house, Has turned into a place that's strange to me. I want to come back to it, But I can't, Same as my own house. You were the only place, I called home, And now this home, Smells like an old attic, Covered in dusts, Holding particles of old memories, I want to clear those dust sheets, But I can't, I don't know why, But I can't, I'm in love with the memories, That exists in the corners, Of that home, But I can't return to it, Even though I know, This is the only place left for me, I feel as if, My own house abandoned me, After insulting me, And now returning back, To it's doorstep, My steps are shaking, Confused, Should I return to it? Is there still love for me left in this house? Or it faded away the moment, They kicked off me? Or are they just calling me back, Out of guilt, Not as an act of love? I'm terrified, Trembled, Of being chosen, And left every time. Who will answer my doubts?

Has anyone ever told her how dangerously beautiful her eyes are? Not just beautiful but deep, like they are hiding whole truths behind their quiet shine. And when she lines them with kohl… it almost feels unfair. It is already difficult to look away, but when that dark edge frames them, it becomes impossible. They undo me. No words are needed when eyes speak the way hers do. Or maybe I am simply obsessed teaching myself the secret language of her gaze by stealing glances when she is not looking. What would I not give to see even a flicker of yearning in those eyes for me? Because when they meet mine, I forget things I should remember. I lose thoughts I meant to hold onto. I fall completely into them. And I wonder… am I the only one who feels this way? When the moon rises, the whole world stops to admire it. When flowers breathe out their fragrance, everyone nearby knows. When cold wind touches skin, we all feel it. So eyes this beautiful, this quietly powerful I cannot be the only one they affect. Still… I hope she knows, even if I never say it aloud, that the eyes she carries are the only light that can reach the darker corners of my heart.

His lawyer argued for life imprisonment, highlighting no prior record and potential for reform through counseling. But Justice Magare, in a scathing judgment, detailed the premeditation, breach of trust, disproportionate violence, and moral depravity. He rejected any mitigation, noting that defilement alone carried life, but the murder elevated it to death under Section 204. Quoting the constitution and prisons act, he sentenced Macharia to death by hanging, with a 30-day stay of execution and 14 days to appeal. Breaking his pen in two... a symbolic act... the judge closed the file, declaring the devil "innocent" and Macharia's actions beyond redemption. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝑺𝒐𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝑰𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑶𝒏𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒆 In the aftermath, Nyeri and Kenya at large exhaled in grim satisfaction, though no sentence could restore Tamara's life. Macharia was transferred to a maximum-security prison to await his fate, with appeals likely to drag on given Kenya's de facto moratorium on executions since 1987... meaning he might spend decades on death row. Susan and her family began the long road to healing, supported by community funds and NGOs, but the scar remained. The case spotlighted rising femicide and child violence, prompting calls for stricter laws and better surveillance in slums. Governor Kahiga praised the sentence as "commendable," while public outrage fueled demands for swift justice in similar cases, like that of baby Shantel. 𝐀𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 To parents and members of the public: This tragedy underscores the peril of blind trust, even in familiar faces... always teach children about stranger danger, but also about boundaries with known adults. Monitor their movements closely, especially in crowded places like markets. Install and review CCTV where possible, and report suspicions immediately. Communities must unite against silence; vigilance saves lives. If you see something off, speak up... Tamara's story reminds us that evil often hides in plain sight.

Back at the market, Susan's worry turned to panic when Tamara didn't return. She searched the stalls, asked vendors and friends, but there was no sign of her daughter. By evening, she reported Tamara missing to the local police, sparking a frantic community-wide hunt. Neighbors, family, and volunteers combed the streets of Nyeri town and the surrounding slums, calling Tamara's name into the night. Posters were hastily made and distributed, showing the girl's smiling face. Susan, distraught and sleepless, appealed to anyone who might have seen her child, her voice breaking as she described Tamara's outfit... a simple dress and sandals. The search stretched into the next day, May 25, with growing desperation. Whispers of foul play began to circulate, but with no leads, hope faded. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝑪𝒍𝒖𝒆𝒔, 𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒄 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 The breakthrough came on May 26, thanks to a combination of vigilant policing and modern technology. A hawk-eyed officer named Otieno Atieno, reviewing surveillance footage from nearby businesses, spotted something suspicious on CCTV from Jadel Auto Spares, a local car parts shop overlooking the path to Witemere. The grainy video clearly showed Macharia walking hand-in-hand with Tamara toward his home on the afternoon she vanished, her trusting steps contrasting with his sinister intent. This clue "conspired" against him, as the judge would later put it. Armed with this evidence, police descended on Macharia's shack. Under interrogation, he initially denied involvement but soon cracked, leading detectives to the shallow grave under his bed. Digging through the earth, they unearthed Tamara's body... wrapped in a simple cloth, bearing marks of violence and decomposition after two days. The discovery sent shockwaves through the community; angry crowds gathered outside, demanding justice, as police whisked Macharia away to prevent mob violence. A post-mortem examination on May 30 at the Nyeri County Referral Hospital confirmed the nightmare: Tamara had been sexually assaulted, with a broken hymen, genital injuries, and internal hemorrhaging, before being suffocated to death. Semen samples matched Macharia, sealing the forensic case. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐥 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒔, 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒔 Macharia was charged with murder under Section 203 of the Penal Code, as well as defilement. On May 29, just days after his arrest, he recorded a detailed confession with detectives, admitting to the luring, assault, killing, and burial—describing it in terms that the judge later called "an excerpt from a horror movie." He claimed no mental incapacity or supernatural influence, though he bizarrely tried to blame "the devil" in mitigation, a notion the court dismissed outright. Initially held in custody for further investigation, he appeared before Justice Kizito Magare at the Nyeri High Court on June 12, 2025, where he pleaded guilty. However, the judge, cautious about the capital nature of the charge, ordered a 46-day remand for reflection and a mental assessment at Murang’a Level V Hospital, which deemed him fit to stand trial. In July 2025, Macharia changed his plea to not guilty, perhaps hoping for a trial delay or leniency. But on January 22, 2026, he reversed course again, pleading guilty once more, citing a "change of heart." 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 The sentencing hearing on February 19, 2026, was a gripping courtroom drama, broadcast in snippets that gripped the nation. Prosecutor presented the evidence: the CCTV, confession, post-mortem, and victim impact statements. Susan Wanjiru took the stand, her testimony heartfelt and devastating, recounting the permanent emotional trauma and the fear now gripping the community. Macharia, showing no remorse, reportedly smiled during her words... a detail that horrified the judge and sealed his fate.

A True Crime Narration of Tamara Blessing Kabura's Case 𝑭𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝟐𝟑, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝑻𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒂'𝒔 𝑬𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝑻𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 In the bustling open-air market of Nyeri town, Kenya, where vendors hawked fresh produce and colorful fabrics under the equatorial sun, a little girl named Tamara Blessing Kabura grew up surrounded by the rhythms of everyday life. Born around 2018 to Susan Wanjiru, a hardworking single mother who ran a modest stall selling vegetables and household goods, Tamara was the light of her family's world. From her earliest days, she was a curious, vibrant child... described by neighbors as playful and trusting, with a bright smile that could melt even the sternest hearts. She attended Grade One at Judah Academy, where she was learning her ABCs and making friends, her small backpack slung over her shoulders as she skipped to school each morning. Susan, often juggling long hours at the market to provide for her daughter and elderly mother, relied on the close-knit community to watch over Tamara. It was a place where everyone knew each other, and trust was currency. Among the familiar faces was Nicholas Julius Macharia, a 35-year-old market porter known for hauling heavy loads for traders like Susan. Macharia, who lived alone in a cramped one-room shack in the nearby Witemere slums, had ingratiated himself into the family's circle over time. He was no stranger; he often helped Susan with her stall, carrying crates of tomatoes or bags of maize, and even ran small errands for her mother. To young Tamara, he was "Uncle Julius"—a trusted adult who sometimes bought her sweets or played brief games with the market children. But beneath this facade lurked a predator, a man with a depraved disposition that would soon shatter lives forever. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝑪𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒆 The fateful day began like any other Saturday on May 24, 2025. Tamara, just seven years old, had accompanied her mother to the market as she often did during weekends. The air was filled with the chatter of bargaining shoppers and the scent of street food. Around midday, Susan sent Tamara on a quick errand to a nearby salon for a simple hair trim... a routine task in their busy routine. Tamara skipped off, her small frame weaving through the crowds, unaware that Macharia had been watching. Seizing the moment, he approached her with a familiar smile, perhaps luring her with the promise of candy or a game, exploiting the trust he had built over months. Innocent and unsuspecting, Tamara followed him away from the safety of the market, down the dusty paths leading to his isolated home in Witemere slums. What happened next was a descent into unimaginable horror. Inside the dimly lit shack, Macharia's mask fell away. He violently defiled the child, rupturing her delicate body with a 2.5 to 3 cm tear that caused severe hemorrhaging. Copious amounts of semen were later found, evidence of the prolonged assault. Tamara, in excruciating pain, screamed and struggled, but her cries went unheard in the isolated slum. Undeterred by her suffering, Macharia continued the attack without mercy. As she bled and weakened, he smothered her, wrapping his hands around her tiny neck until she asphyxiated, her last moments filled with terror and agony beyond comprehension. In his chilling confession later, Macharia described the act with unsettling detachment, as if recounting a mundane event, revealing a profound lack of empathy and narcissistic cruelty. To cover his tracks, he dug a shallow grave right there in the dirt floor of his one-room house, beneath his bed, and buried her small body without a coffin or any semblance of dignity. He then returned to his daily life, sleeping in the same room that had become a tomb, as if nothing had happened. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝑬𝒇𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑷𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄

Be True Don't promise me forever When you aren't sure of the now My heart is neither smart nor clever For it blindly believes all that sounds like a vow. Don't take me surfing When you won't be around if I fall of the surfboard If your shadow knows you're bluffing A heads up would be nice, before I get on board. Don't build me a castle amidst a sea of quicksand When you plan on settling with another queen on dry land If you would be my loyal companion, then I'd dread not the danger Problem is danger is guaranteed, but loyalty is not If you can't be true, then let me be a lone ranger Don't get me riled up to strike while the iron still hot When you won't be there to nurse me if I burn my hands To break my implicit trust or not, I place the decision in your hands.

Can I seek shelter in you, When the world feels too loud? When I can't cease my thoughts? When all I'm doing, Is trying to survive my days? Can I come running to you, With hope, That maybe, You will be the home, I kept searching for so long, That maybe, You are the flower, That can aromate every corner, Of my soul, Can I come to you? When my breath struggles, To pave its way, Through my lungs, When my heart feels heavy, When my ribs constrict, And my organs are dissolving, In the voids of restlessness, Can I drag my body, On the door of your entity? When my own existence, Is a shackle of trauma, When I can't free myself, From the recalcitrant reflections, When my own blood, Stains my presence, In the celestial world, Can I come to you, With the pseudo hope, That you hold on to me, That my blood, Won't discolour your actuality, That I won't be a disgrace for you, Can I seek an asylum in you?

17.3.24 Hope. Most humans don't believe in God's existence because they want to, rather because it gives them hope it wasn't all for naught. Take the most religious person you know for instance, what if they knew today heaven and heal don't exist. It would crush them, plus the entire foundation their lives have been built upon. So after all, isn't it just nice to hope. And it doesn't hurt to. You hope that when you go to heaven you shall meet your dearest people that left before you. You hope that you can't have kept yourself from sinning just do die and have your story end there. You hope that heaven exists, so those that did you wrong can't go unpunished. And hope hell exists, so the vilest of humans can go there. Sometimes I think hope is a disease. Because, what if those hopes are crushed? Would you still be able to stand as you? Or would you be swallowed up in the abyss?

I was equipped with wings. Dreaming of flight, the wings To reach the peak of the sky, Which is so far away I was equipped with wings. The wings had dreams of rotating the world At a speed that matched the speed of the globe And of flying to places where no one had before dared to venture. But, When the soul fell slumber, A mysterious figure with dagger stabbed me in my wings. The next morning, I awoke with the hope of regaining life. However, my bed.... My bed was covered in bright red hues all around, And my eyes widened. The nerves become strained. It appears as though the blood pressure is attempting to shout. My throat was drying up and My lips fell motionless. I wanted to speak but felt like something was forcibly crushing them. My hands began to tremble. Shivering from the shock they were overcome with My legs became impaled on something. Wanted to move on in the direction of what they felt But felt as though everything became frozen. I have wings. My wings were torn to shreds. My dreams were lying on the floor with blood all around,and It seemed like everything had just been destroyed by someone. Ending in a flash, my eyes welled up with tears. Tears of extreme sadness My heart was in agony. Dreams that I once had of taking a flight are now bleeding. Dreams from when I was perched so high in the air

Can I seek shelter in you, When the world feels too loud? When I can't cease my thoughts? When all I'm doing, Is trying to survive my days? Can I come running to you, With hope, That maybe, You will be the home, I kept searching for so long, That maybe, You are the flower, That can aromate every corner, Of my soul, Can I come to you? When my breath struggles, To pave its way, Through my lungs, When my heart feels heavy, When my ribs constrict, And my organs are dissolving, In the voids of restlessness, Can I drag my body, On the door of your entity? When my own existence, Is a shackle of trauma, When I can't free myself, From the recalcitrant reflections, When my own blood, Stains my presence, In the celestial world, Can I come to you, With the pseudo hope, That you hold on to me, That my blood, Won't discolour your actuality, That I won't be a disgrace for you, Can I seek an asylum in you?

*The Beginning of Ending (Dead Weight)* I woke with stones inside my chest, Old voices stitched beneath my skin, Carrying ghosts like unpaid debts— Dead weight dressed as love and kin. I called it loyalty. I named it fate. But chains do not become lighter Because we decorate them. I remembered Kino Standing before the dark, breathing sea, His hands trembling with the future, His eyes learning what glitter costs. “I have thrown the pearl,” he said— And the ocean swallowed his hunger. So I stood at my own shoreline, Clutching my shining burden— A promise that poisoned, A smile with hidden teeth, A circle of voices that fed on my doubt. I have thrown the pearl into the night Just like Kino. I have thrown toxic people Into the deep waters of silence. I have thrown fear Back to the wind that birthed it. I have thrown guilt Into the fire that forged it. Let the sea keep what burns the hand. Let the tide carry what bends the spine. Dead weight does not argue— It drags. It whispers, “Stay.” It convinces you that drowning Is another word for loyalty. But I am learning That survival is not cruelty. That boundaries are not betrayal. That ending Is the first breath of beginning. The ocean did not beg Kino to return. It only roared, And kept its silence. Tonight, I stand lighter. Not empty— But unburdened. The beginning of ending Is not loss. It is the sound of something heavy Finally Letting go. 👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿

I know not what has overtaken me, A strangeness vast, a mystery to see, My heart ascends in frantic flight, A spectral chill enshrouds the night. Each pulse resounds with violent force, A tempest drives its ruthless course, An alien dread, austere, severe, An unseen hand that draws me near. It whispers loss, impending doom, A sorrow’s tide, a shadowed gloom, A voice within, subdued, austere, Entreats surrender, bids me veer. The darkness calls with siren’s song, Its cadence deep, its lure so strong, It beckons me from rightful place, Toward realms of ruin, void of grace. This fear constrains, it binds the soul, Toward fathoms dark, a spectral goal, It murmurs secrets, drains my breath, A hollow wound, a living death. Cold fingers clutch my fragile heart, They rend my world, they tear apart, From all I cherish, all I claim, A poisoned dart, a searing flame. What thief is this, what silent bane, That clouds the mind, distorts the brain, That fills the night with ceaseless grief, And steals away all sweet relief? The shadows swell, emotions clash, A rising tide, a thunderous crash, In darkness vast, no refuge lies, From fear’s embrace, its endless ties. The heartbeat drums a dirge of dread, Its echoes haunt the mind instead, A phantom’s touch, a hollow frame, That leads me back to fear’s domain. Yet still I strive, though strength is frail, Against this night, this endless veil, To clutch at hope, though faint its light, And wrest my soul from endless night. But voices linger, spectral, cold, Their chant persists, their grip takes hold, In every pulse, their presence stays, To drag me down through shadowed ways. What fate awaits, what end is near, A serpent’s hiss, a whispered fear, A battle fought in abyss deep, Where shadows wake and angels weep. The fear expands, its shadow vast, It binds me to a haunted past, Where peace is gone, where terror reigns, and silence weaves its endless chains. Each moment bears a lifetime’s weight, as terror seals my fragile fate, I stand alone at midnight’s gate, Uncertain of what end awaits. It is but this—no more to tell, A muted cry, a voiceless knell, Ensnared within this endless spell, This dark, consuming, boundless hell.

I don't know what happened to me, It's all very weird, so strange to see, My heartbeat races, quick and free, A chill engulfs, holds tight to me. Each pulse within, a bullet's force, Coursing through a frenzied course, Unusual fear, its grip so coarse, An unseen threat, a silent source. I feel like something dear will go, A loss impending, sorrow's flow, A voice within whispers low, To leave it all, surrender so. The darkness calls, its lure is strong, An eerie song, a siren’s throng, To pull me from where I belong, To something distant, something wrong. This fear, it binds, it chains my soul, To depths unknown, a shadowed goal, It whispers secrets, takes its toll, A void within, a gaping hole. The coldness wraps around my heart, Tears my world, rips it apart, From all I love, it makes me part, A poison dart, a painful start. What is this force, this silent thief, That fills my nights with endless grief, My mind it clouds, beyond belief, A haunted house, with no relief. The shadows deepen, thoughts collide, Emotions swell, a rising tide, In darkness, there is no place to hide, From fear's embrace, I'm pulled inside. The heartbeat pounds, a drum of dread, Echoes loud inside my head, A phantom's touch, a feeling dead, To what is real, I'm slowly led. A specter calls me to its game, To lose myself, forsake my name, To be a puppet in its claim, A hollow shell, consumed by shame. Yet still I fight, with weakening might, Against this force, this endless night, To hold on tight to hope's faint light, To find my way, to end this plight. But the voice persists, it never fades, A ghostly chant, in twilight shades, In every pulse, it deeply wades, To drag me down, where sorrow parades. I don't know what's to come of this, A deadly dance, a serpent's hiss, A battle fought in dark abyss, With every breath, I feel amiss. The fear it grows, a shadow cast, Upon my soul, a spell is fast, To bind me to this haunting past, Where peace is gone, and fears are vast. Each moment feels a lifetime's weight, As terror shapes my fragile state, I stand alone at fate's dark gate, Unsure of what will be my fate. It's just it, it, it, no more to tell, A silent scream, a muted yell, In this strange, consuming spell, In this dark and endless hell.

*Feeling* There are the hands that can feel. Hands that've been gloved with pain, hands that have nursed her heart, naive as it got broken, was mended. There are the eyes that can feel. Eyes that've seen the light of the night, eyes that've seen her ghostly shadows, dark as they were, never gave him fright. There are ears that can feel. Ears that've heard storms in melodies, ears that've read terror from her voice, shackled as it was free, yearned to be free-free. There are lips that can feel. Lips that've opened to pour healing words, lips that've told a flower to bloom, and it did, dying, as it was hopeless, came to life.

Hurting myself in the process of loving you 💔 I am hurting myself in the process of loving you I am in a battle with my own feelings I am fighting my own heart 💔 I love you but I don't know if you feel the same You speak of love only in bed Except that time,you participate in digging my six feet bed After your harsh words I still call you my love After you beat me I still answer your call 💔 Then what is love I am hurting myself in the process of loving you If I quit will l be better to stand against my heart I feel for you but with you I feel pain I am tied to my feelings 💔 I miss you when you are far away With you I am scared I tell my heart severely that am nervous around that beast of you But it kept on telling me to hold on As I hold I am pinned Pinned by my love for you 💔 I am hurting myself in the process of loving Yes,l love you but sometimes I am afraid my love will push me to a room without a window I am trying so hard to fight my feelings I am in a Dilemma.

*IMAGINATION* I've fallen in love with an imagination I've fallen in love with this blurr painting in my head I thought I had it all till all sat me down and cried on my behalf For I fell in love with an imagination The way he looked into my eyes, hold me tight felt like paradise I got lost in his warmth only to wake up engraved in my own thoughts He promised , I saw him fight for us Stupid me, you're just imagining I've fallen in love with an imagination Enough to cut me off reality, drive me high into the oblivion I'm lost in it , waking up is a task...an imagination Where did I go wrong? Who bewitched me? Was this heart too stupid or is me just abnormal? I should have read the signs,atleast I should have... But then , in my world of darkness, who can I blame? I've fallen in too deep with this imagination Don't scold me, I'm just imagining _If only it was real..._

LET ME LOVE YOU Have always wanted to let you know, What i've been keeping for long, I think it's time to speak it out, I will say it even if I'll shout, I may not use the best dictionary terms, Because what i mean is beyond definition, You're the exact definition of my heart's desire, The one whom with all my heart i treasure, I've always had many love questions, But finally found you as the answer to all, I wish God had brought you earlier, Your smile spices my day and makes it bright, Whenever i look at your eyes, I see myself and reminds me a lot, That;it's through you, I will get a copy of myself, Baby,let me love you, Love you until when you see me, What you only see is shape of love, I want to always wake up beside you, So that you be the first U I set eyes on, Your beauty is enough to inspire a dull day, Love, Let me love you, Because your voice sooths me, With you i forget all my problems, I have faith our future is going to be bright, brighter than the sun and the moon, Let me love you from the sun rise, To the setting of the same, Let love you even at the peak of the darkness, Because you're the light in my heart, Let me love you baby, Until you say my love is too much, Because you're all need, The one who gives me reasons to live, I promise... Promise to always be there to hold you, Hold your hand when you fall, Kiss you in comfort, when you're feeling low, Promise to always wipe your tears, Whenever you're sad, All these because I care and love you, So baby let me love you🌹

*I DONT LOVE YOU* If i ever told you i love you... Am sorry... If i ever told you...i like you...i do take it back... Because love is last thing i need right now..💔... I would rather heal my pain behind the curtains... Than break the little pieces of my heart...in the deep end... Because this cycle never ends... It hurts...it really does hurt... I would have a solitary mind... Caged my feelings in a fotress of solitude... Than pursuing a quest that i clearly know no one loves me back... I have tried to love but...Got stabbed in the back... I have bent my back and bruised my knees...with please's of "will you accept me back".. But in the end am right back at... Fake promises and fake affection...fake perception... Chains of true loneliness is heatheir than a false throne of affection... I trust you know what i mean..? This dont look so bright as it seemed...right? So, Do you love him... Do you love her... Or its just a lie to help cloud your loneliness... I know you are afraid to face whats clear to you... The quest to satify your lust... Or its just the vast option of peer pressure that pushes you to say, *I LOVE YOU*? Do you really mean it...when you say it... Do you...? And you love yourself?... I asked myself this and i found answer... I am not someone i wanted to become... Love aint in the heart...lets not blame it... Its in the mind and soul... So if i hate my soul and mind...can i love you? Come on...i need answers. Do you love him..? Do you really love her...? Do you love me..? Wait... you..do? Am sorry then... Because... *I DONT LOVE YOU*