Your mouth is a promise half-kept, half-aching. Red like truth spoken too late, soft like a confession I’m afraid to finish.   I don’t touch you yet. That’s where the power lives— in the pause, in the heat gathering behind restraint. Your breath leans toward mine like it already knows how this ends.   There...

“Before you could walk beside me,  you learned to rest against my heart. In your tiny eyes, I see a love so pure  it quiets every storm inside me. Nathan, you are not just my son  — you are the softest piece of my...

People shouldn’t like me.Not easily.Not casually.Not in that shallow, you’re pleasant to be around way. They shouldn’t like me because I don’t exist to be digestible.I don’t smooth my edges so rooms stay comfortable.I don’t shrink my pain into something...