Ambivert

I read your storms before your skies turned gray, I knew your silence had too much to say. Your voice would tremble, mine would quietly bend, I wore my heart like armor, lover and friend. I stayed through shadows, guessed your hidden pain, Held pieces of you through thunder and rain. Yet when my oceans rose and pulled me apart, You stood like distance, not close to my heart. Tell me, what kind of love clocks out at night? Leaves at midnight and calls that feeling right? How do you whisper “I care” then disappear, When the one who loves you is drowning in fear? I know, I know you care in ways you can, You stayed till two, till three , tried to understand. But love is not counted in rare borrowed hours, It is presence in weakness, not petals and flowers. And maybe, yes, I hid tears in my chest, Pretended my breaking deserved little rest. Maybe I never screamed, “Please, don’t you go,” Expected your heart to simply know. But darling, if I call you mine, even friend, I’d sit through the ni...

There was a time I spoke of my dreams the way a child speaks of the stars softly, innocently, with affection in my voice.  I shared them not as a burden, not as a demand, but simply as a piece of my heart. And somewhere along the way, my dreams were misunderstood, and the very thing I had trusted with affection  was turned into something to laugh at. That laughter did not just echo in the air, it echoed inside my chest. And something fragile within me shattered quietly. My intention had been pure. My words had been gentle. But still, they were misunderstood. So slowly I learned to hold my heart back, to keep my dreams folded within my silence. Today, while standing in prayer, I spoke of those same dreams again but this time only to Allah. And suddenly I understood something. Those dreams were never meant to be carried by the world. Where my sincerity was misunderstood, Allah understood it before I even spoke. Where my heart once felt small, He made it feel seen. For I always k...

No matter how much you're loved,  to feel loved, you must be seen for who you really are. That's when every ounce of love given is a pound felt. ~Suhaib Rumi

You've changed, 1:04 AM 1:04 AM You have changed. I used to think that you're the  one whom people say one in a million. But no,  you turned out to be the one among the millions. No, I don't know you anymore. No, you're not the  one from before. I thought you were different and yeah you turned  out to be different from my thoughts. A stranger?  M aybe this is only what I can call you from now on.  I don't find the time gap a problem. I think there  remains a connection through silences, when we  can't speak anything silence does. I came back with same affection but you didn't show any attraction. Yes, you have changed a bit  or a lot. No, you're not the one from before. -duskytale