beautiful mistske

Committed is what I told him I begged him—soft, not proud Show me a little of your love, Quench this burning thirst, unbowed. My heart was on its knees, A shrine for hands that held none. I gave him my every season, He gave me his fleeting sun. I traced constellations in his silence, Searching for answers in his stare, But he was a storm I couldn’t harness— Just lightning that kissed the air. I whispered dreams in the dark, Hoping he'd catch one and stay, But his love was always drifting, Like smoke just inches away.