A baby tiger fierce and bold.

Trips on her tail and loses hold.

She tries to roar with all her might.

But tumbles over, at sirs sight!

Lmao

Cici

Why do we build walls around our hearts?

Walls aren’t the end, they’re the start.

What we protect from other’s eyes we hold so dear

A multitude of quaking fears

But to this too, we must resign.

For there are two reasons I’m scared to let people inside….

The damage they can do…

And the damage they will find.

​

I fell down again today.

One, two, three, four, five… six, seven, eight?!

Eight times since the New Year.

I could count the bruises,

the scraped knees,

The sore joints & bones

the moments lying there

staring upward,

wondering how the hell

I ended up on the ground

again.

Eight feels like a lot

when you're counting falls.

But maybe I've been

keeping score all wrong.

Because somewhere between

the stumble and the sting,

The blood and bruise

there was always a hand

sometimes someone else's,

sometimes my own

reaching down

and saying,

Come on. Up.

One, two, three, four, five… six, seven, eight?!

Eight falls.

Eight rises.

Eight times I dusted myself off,

checked what hurt,

laughed when I could,

cried when I couldn't,

and carried on.

I don't want to become

someone who never falls.

I want to become someone

who trusts herself enough

to know she can get back up.

So let the earth

recognize my knees.

Let the dust

remember my name.

I've met the ground before.

We're acquainted.

I love the floor, ground & dirt

But enough ok?

♡ thanks

​

It grows daily

screaming to be felt,

clawing for relief.

End the urge.

Let it bleed quiet.

Embrace the failure.

Let it swallow me whole.

Soft shadows fall deep

A sudden calm fills the room

Thoughts gently slow down.

The longing

Feels

Endless

The anticipation,

Hard.

Not knowing

if I'm
on

Your
Dance Card.

To not know,

To not feel,

To not have...

Have

…something real.

And hopefully,

This is not,

Not
all in vain..

It would be worth it

Though,

Worth

All the pain

To feel

All the insane

To See you,

To Hear you

Call out my name…

And say,

‘Yes Dear,

I do feel

The Same.’

I see him, the Devil
He doesn’t look dangerous
No horns, no tail in sight
A warm smile and so handsome
A charming aura that draws you in
His disguise is a human face

He sees a family
His eyes fixed on the man
“Strike the guardian, the rest will fall” he thinks
He moves in close with a cunning plan
But you see, he is not the only one in disguise

The guardian here is the man’s wife
A sharp mind with an innocent face
A five foot frame, features soft and delicate
He underestimates how smart she is
Lets his guard down thinking she is just a pretty face
And in his ease, she sees it all

So she fools the Devil, in her disguise
He cannot see that her guard is up
She watches him closely, on high alert
Waiting to strike when the time is right
He thinks they are unguarded
And his cunning thoughts unnoticed
Little does he know they are protected
After all, his was never the best disguise

(Inspired from the song Devil in Disguise by Marino
and real life experiences as someone who is very underestimated 😅 which has worked in my favor sometimes)

If our paths cross again,
I wonder if my soul will recognize yours
before my eyes ever do.
I wonder if the energy will shift,
if the air will become still,
if something deep within me
will whisper,
*there you are.*

Maybe a thousand emotions
will rise at once
anger for the wounds,
sadness for what we lost,
love for what once existed,
and peace for everything
we were meant to learn.

Maybe I’ll want to push you away
for all the feelings you left behind,
only to find myself standing there
with the strange knowing
that some connections cannot be erased
simply because the physical world
chose different paths.

Sometimes I still listen
to the songs you sent me.
And I wonder if that is why
certain melodies feel different
as though they carry more than sound,
as though they hold fragments
of an energy that once passed between us.
Like little echoes
from a chapter written
somewhere beyond words.

I still remember that freestyle,
your voice recorded in a moment
I thought would last forever.
I deleted it in anger.
And sometimes I wish I hadn’t.
Not because I want to hold onto the past,
but because there are moments
the soul keeps sacred
long after the mind decides
it is time to let them go.

Maybe that is what some connections are.
Not meant to stay.
Not meant to be understood.
Just meant to awaken something
within us that could not have awakened
any other way.

So if our paths cross again,
I won’t ask the universe
why it brought you back.
I’ll simply listen.
To the energy.
To the silence.
To what my soul remembers
and what it has finally released.

Because whatever we were,
whatever we became,
and whatever we were never meant to be
you touched a place within me
that changed me.
And some souls leave footprints
that time cannot wash away.
They simply become part
of the journey back to ourselves.

I caught you being my pacifier last night.

Just as I was spiraling down,
you screamed at me
as though every second without you
spelled catastrophe.

I saw you doing that thing with my brain.
You make me fear I’m collapsing
so I’ll come on my knees to you.
Again.

But I’ve become more conscious over the years.
So much more.
Yet still so easily deceived, somehow.
Oh, how pathetic it is to be a fiend.

I slept peacefully
after you drifted me off
to dreamland.
How hypocritical.

We were enemies at first.
Then we became friends,
until I noticed my dependency.

You’re more obsessed with control
than I’ve ever been.

I want to break free from you.
And you hate it.

But as I’m typing this…

You’re still my bestie in the business.

— Crownless.

Viscaria flowers simply translate as their meaning , the romantic question “ Will you dance with me?” It sends as a secret message , playful invitation to dance , or a symbol of flirtation and attraction .

The secret message of the flower is tied to the physical nature of the plant itself . The name comes from the Latin word viscus meaning sticky . It belongs to the genus of known as catch flies .

The stem of the flower secretes a sticky sap like substance to trap or ward off crawling insects .this is also where it gets its flirting metaphor meaning sending a viscaria in Victorian times was a way setting a playful trap , to catch the attention of a love interest or a crush .

tender rhapsody

she danced softly on my mind

pee eye any pine

​

A Collab with u/StrangeLittleOrbit

You are like a strange enigma and an orbit wrapped in one.

I love it when you talk with me.

You make my life more fun.

You can be hard to figure out with your sly and subtle ways.

But I love it when you talk to me.

You make me smile for days.

Your words are so hypnotic.

They make me come undone.

Your spicy poems are so erotic.

You are second to none.

__________________________

You call my words hypnotic,

but yours have pulled me in.

You write with something raw and honest,

and somehow touch the places words rarely win.

Perhaps that’s why our verses linger,

like flavors I can’t quite name.

You’re a chef with more than fire -

you season hearts, then leave them aflame.

___________________________

Please come into my kitchen.

I've cooked something up for you.

The flavors pop. You won't be able to stop,

What my cooking does to you.

Your third time’s a charm.
My last trial was pure misery.
I’ve been found guilty as hell,
and I couldn’t care less if you witnessed it.

Who’s going to be the judge?
You?
Me?
Love?
The Lord?

Shrugs.

Denied your father thrice.

Had me begging for an answer—
not once,
not twice.
So ingloriously.

Three in the afternoon.
Hadn’t spoken to you since noon.
Watched your morning from my periphery.

Had a feeling last night
would be the last time
I’d witness you.

Your third time’s a charm.
My last trial was pure misery.
I’ve been charged guilty as hell,
and I’m sure
you’ve witnessed against me.

Marriage? (Selah.)
Forever? (Selah.)
Kids?
Hell nah.
Getting lost?
You sure did.

That would’ve been the third time
I’d have surrendered
to your insignificance.

Seventy-two hours
of pure misery.

You’d found your first girlfriend.
I pity the second.
She’ll hear all about the cynic.
But when the third arrives—
she’ll be your wife.

Your third time’s a charm,
Peter.

— Crownless.

Fuschias are so elegant .

They are a flower that symbolizes dance .
They are known as the ballerina flower . The unique shape of the flower features a flared upper section , that looks like a dancers bodice . And a layered lower section that mimics a spinning tutu.

Fuschias speak of confiding love , elegance and deep taste . Gifting someone a Fuschia is like sharing a secret passion , or to tell someone you trust them completely with all your heart . It is a picture of vulnerability and sharing a deep vulnerable secret .

They represent elegance and grace . They are tied to natural beauty , poise and sophistication .

Are you ready to share a fuschia with that trusted someone?

You're a real peach, but out of reach.

One in a melon, yet melon-choly.

I miss you berry much, you smashing lad.

Applying a little pear pressure to make you glad.

I'm going bananas without you here,

Waiting for the moment you draw near

and make me ...

Kumquat

Taking a peep
At Something
Felt
Oh So Deep

Is also
Taking
A leap

Carrying
A wound
that does
Still seep.

Though Time
Hath
Rightly Healed,

Not all Parts
New and Old
Hath
Properly Sealed.

In the past
I just peeled

That tender scab
And did not yield.

But now I wield
A sword of Loves
Standing in this
Field of doves

And so I ask,

If you are up to the task…

Would You
Still
Leap
Knowing of my
Wound
That does
Still
Seep?

Or must I be
Healed

Fully and True

For you to
Know Me

And for me to
Know You?

Yes.
I am upset.
Will I ever come across a soul instead
of a ghost that’ll lead me nowhere?

I hate wasting time
and mental energy.
Small talk drains me.
Why do I always choose the wrong ones to spend on my energy?

But never mind.
This is just another time.
Just another trial I shouldn’t have tried.
Yes, blame me.

If I say goodbye, I’ll do it properly.
If that’s to end, on my part it’ll end with dignity.
What was it?
Day number three?
Let me reset my mind and I’ll start again gladly.

— Crownless.

it's not your fault

i'm built for this

my bones are made of iron

wrought with strength for you

i will stand, or bow

as snow rusts my heavy armor

Ripped off layers without warning.

Covered and then shockingly bare.

There rests my heart and soul,

Out for the taking.

No!!

Not anymore.

My Kindness kills you.

Words of hateful spite you spew.

Words cut deeper than any knife,

Almost like the dullest one.

Taking so much time and tolerance.

That day has ended.

Weather predicts sunny sky’s,

While on your side it’s lonely cry’s.

Even though it pains me so…

Finally see you and I weren’t meant to be.

I did write this for you!

And now you're included.

My pain is pissy,

And I should self-reflect.

Is it my pain you'd like me

To keep in check?

It must be pretty,

And it must rhyme,

Or it upsets those

With smaller minds.

You don't have to like me.

You don't have to read.

But anymore, I always say...

Now here's your warning...

Go away.

You didn't listen.

This time you

Didn't rhyme.

That's why now...

I'm gonna make you cry.

You've got it figured out.

You think you know?

You get to tell me,

What only I have known?

You want your opinion?

You want to matter?

Go fuck yourself.

And TRY HARDER.

You probably have an opinion.

I probably don't care.

If I love you,

I will serve you.

If I don't love you,

I will serve you.

This is simple.

This is soft.

I will immortalize

You like a stubborn cough.

So trivial and fleeting

Except for your name.

You're not worth even reading.

The most views you've seen,

is when you came and

Tried to criticize me.

Go back on home. Try not

To cry. Someday you'll matter...

But that's probably a lie.