After the Fire

In the heat of the moment

passion erupts—

fueled by something ancient and reckless,

a spark dragged from the dark corners of the soul.

Flames claw toward the sky,

ravenous and merciless.

They swallow reason whole,

choke the quiet voice of restraint,

and feast on every fragile boundary

ever meant to keep us safe.

Nothing survives the blaze.

Not logic.

Not innocence.

Not the fragile illusion

that we were ever in control.

And when the inferno finally collapses

under the weight of its own hunger,

there is no triumph—

only the smoldering ruin of what once was.

The smoke clears slowly…

revealing scorched memories,

twisted remnants of trust,

and the unbearable silence

where something sacred used to live.

All that remains

is the hollow ache of knowing

we lit the match ourselves—

and the cold, grey ashes

of regret

still clinging

to our hands

~S~

Overwhelmed

The lights are too bright,

the colors far too many.

Sounds crash over me—

too loud, too sharp—

while the energy thrums

with a relentless, steady beat.

Pressure crowds in on all sides,

pushing me into directions

my body was never meant to bend.

I cover my ears

to escape the cacophony.

I squeeze my eyes shut

to block out the grotesque caricature

of daily living.

And slowly,

so slowly,

I let myself sink into the silence—

seeking peace

in the quiet center

of being overwhelmed

~S~

The Crown You Chose

The crown of thorns

you wear so proudly

sits heavy—

each barb

woven from deceit,

each twist tightened

by another lie

spilled from your tainted lips.

And with every word—

it changes.

Not a crown.

A shroud.

Darkness unfurling,

wrapping,

layer by suffocating layer,

until all that remains

is mistrust.

I used to say:

watch your back.

Not as a warning—

but as loyalty.

As us.

But truth…

truth carves deeper than devotion.

So now I stand

at a distance—

silent.

Watching you sink

deeper

and deeper

into the forest

you grew yourself—

where roots choke,

and branches remember

every lie you fed them.

I do not follow.

I do not call out.

I do not reach.

I save no one now—

but myself

~S~

Where the Tide Takes Me

The scent of salt hangs heavy in the air,

sun-warmed sand crunching beneath my feet

as I walk away from you.

At the water’s edge,

I pause—

turning back for one final glance.

The sunset crowns me in gold,

a quiet halo of endings.

You reach out—

but too late.

You call my name,

it breaks against the wind,

fragile…

useless.

I take another step.

Water curls around my calves,

cold and certain—

and still, you cannot reach me.

Not in time.

I let myself fall back

into the waiting sea,

into arms that do not beg,

do not break.

I drift—

further,

further still—

until you are nothing

but a fading shape on the shore.

You collapse,

hands clawing at what’s already gone,

voice cracking with prayers

that no longer belong to me.

But our time—

has ended.

And then—

You wake.

A violent gasp,

the cruel scream of an alarm,

ripping you from the illusion.

All that remains

is the ghost of salt on your tongue,

and the desperate ache

of trying to hold

what was never yours to keep.

I am gone.

Lost to you—

like something the tide

was always meant to take

~S~

No Mercy for the Night

Restless

The darkness doesn’t arrive quietly—

it claims me,

spilling across the room

like storm clouds devouring a full moon,

warping the familiar

into something edged with shadow.

I try to slip free,

to loosen its grip—

to surrender, gently,

to the mercy of sleep.

But peace is a language

my mind no longer speaks.

It thrashes—

relentless,

untamed—

a storm with no horizon,

no eye,

no end.

I turn.

And turn again.

Sheets twisting into quiet witnesses

of a battle no one sees.

Eyes closed—

but the noise remains.

Louder in the dark.

Sharper in the silence.

Because the cruelest thing about night

is not the absence of light—

it’s the presence

of everything you cannot turn off

~s~

Restless

Restless... 

The darkness doesn’t arrive quietly—

it claims me,

spilling across the room

like storm clouds devouring a full moon,

warping the familiar

into something edged with shadow.

I try to slip free,

to loosen its grip—

to surrender, gently,

to the mercy of sleep.

But peace is a language

my mind no longer speaks.

It thrashes—

relentless,

untamed—

a storm with no horizon,

no eye,

no end.

I turn.

And turn again.

Sheets twisting into quiet witnesses

of a battle no one sees.

Eyes closed—

but the noise remains.

Louder in the dark.

Sharper in the silence.

Because the cruelest thing about night

is not the absence of light—

it’s the presence

of everything you cannot turn off

~S~

in the middle of the night...

Through half closed eyes

I seek you

In the middle of the night 

I reach out my hand 

To pull you closer

In the middle of the night 

I can't sleep... 

I long for your touch

In the middle of the night 

I miss the feeling 

Of being wrapped in your arms 

In the middle of the night 

The touch of your skin 

So calming against mine 

In the middle of the night.. 

I eagerly await 

Being able to hold you 

Love you 

Be close to you 

Touch you 

In the middle of the night 

Every night 

Until there are no more nights... 

And all that remains 

Are you and I... 

~SD~