The Villain for You

 

‘’ You are the one who loves to make me small every day until nothing is left

And I am the one who gathers all the misery and then turn it into a new monstrosity…” – Bound to Fail

…

And here I stand – staring into the darkness, where all we had is gone.

I am not breaking anymore – I have done enough.

Your questions haunt me like ghosts that refuse to leave

But you were no longer the person I was dreaming of.

…

Yes, I was the one behind the rusted side of that door,

But not to guard it, just to make sure it would never be opened

Like we had done so many times before.

I was the silence that swallowed your countless pleas,

I was the keeper of the ashes of the love we had

I scattered them like I did with our ruined plans,

My hands cold, my ears deafened by the countless fights.

I saw your tears but still chose the blackness over you,

I was never afraid, just tired – already numb;

Under your damaged touch, I turned into a hollow soul.

I was the punisher you chose, a sweet cruelty shaped by pain.

Never rage, nor fire, not even a storm – just something shapeless molding into form.

I chose to stay when leaving you would have been the kindness you deserved,

Then I left when I still had my chance to salvage what remained of me.

I blurred the lines between devotion and control

Until there was nothing felt untouched – every hidden wound exposed.

And yes, I felt the moment I completely ripped your heart out,

It was never a pleasure, only the language we both spoke,

Where hurting you meant I could still feel alive.

…

And here I am, sitting in silence, thinking of you in my sleepless night

I wanted to tell my story instead of the rehearsed borrowed lines.

You call it cycle, I call it stillness – the inability that trapped my mind.

You said I made you small but I was watching you fade away,

Turning into something I no longer wanted to preserve.

With your choices you took every hope I had left, shaping me into your villain.

I was never stronger nor wiser – you were the mirror of every mistake I made.

We were so broken we mistook the habit for devotion,

Two damaged souls chained together in a war of dominance.

I am only human, though you paint me like a monster,

But there is nothing we could have done,

I remain the echo you chose to keep, long after the wounds healed.

This was our ending – not beautiful, yet not entirely cruel,

What we had became something not worth fighting for

And that’s why I let silence be the end of us.

Black-and-Blue Memory

 

I held her in a warm embrace, now I am ice.

I stayed too long, the emptiness fits me best.

We have reached the point of no return, she is the foreign taste on my lips,

Her scent is no longer calming; she smells like rage.

Her touch drove me insane; I am glad I shut her down.

…

She is like a virus, spreading through my veins,

She is the poisonous thrill – then the cage she put me in.

Her moves brought me to my knees, 

Deceived – I still survived,

Sick to my stomach I stayed – afraid of what she could do

When I refused to obey whatever she said.

My ego bruised, my skin black-and-blue,

A mental note of what I will never tolerate.

Like a snake slithering through my guarded walls,

She found a crack and nested there - in my paradise.

Like a parasite, she rooted deep inside my senses.

Lost – I stayed, confused – I endured.

But in the end, I remembered who I used to be.

…

Her silence is the song I craved to hear,

Voice muffled, paralyzed by what I have become.

And here we are – the balance has shifted.

Like a caged beast on display, I shoved her into the darkest corner of my zoo

Where I collect every dirty soul I have claimed.

I am vengeful – there is nothing left to lose.

I’ve learnt the language she taught me –

Every gaze, command and quiet threat is now a polished weapon.

She became comfortable with how small she tried to keep me – 

Contained.

But she never noticed the slightest shift,

I am the product of her twisted ways.

Now she is the one who flinches at every sudden move,

I hear her breath stumble the way mine did.

The metal crate I built from what she cherished most -  

Weakness and absence of the mind – this time they are hers.

Demise suits her best – no more pleading, only breaking is what awaits her.

She wanted someone who would never leave – stolen will,

Someone who would always stay – no matter how hard it gets.

And I passed all her tests – here I stand

But now I am on the other side of the metal frame.

I am the mirror she refused to face,

Now a carbon copy of her deranged mind – the Beast is out

And the Beast is me.

Devotion Misplaced

 

I bend my knees for you, I am unnaturally calm,

As my palms are no longer joined in grace.

My whispers now are not a devoted prayer

Before your shrine I learnt to lose myself.

My head is down, voice low – where are you?

Why am I still calling you?

I am lost in your temptation; there is no salvation for me.

Your sermons were farthest from my truth,

Yet here I am – worshiping the Queen of Hell herself.

And in the darkness of your church I broke my vows,

Your altar is in my dreams, summoning me every night at 9 pm.

Like a wounded bird, I bleed for you when we are apart,

You are the confession I will never make.

With a broken spirit I stand at my weakest

So impatiently, I look for you.

…

You are the restless curse residing in my thoughts the moment your scent evaporates from my skin,

You feed on my last drop of sincere faith.

You are the siren song I cannot escape,

You are the fire I crave, leaving me hopeless – nothing more.

Oh, my cruel devotion, every minute is the right time,

Crucified below your body, I go mad.

Your silence tattoos itself onto my skin with faint marks.

I meet your muteness like a harmful withdrawal,

I kneel until my knees forget how to stand,

I keep praying to you until I am completely gone.

…

Your absence confirms that the God is no longer listening,

Or maybe he is only deaf to me.

Every time I fall as an accomplice to your game, you call it mercy,

You broke my soul so gently and now I ask for more.

Oh, my sweet ruin, I can see through your disguise,

You gave me the answer I never sought –

And here I am, crawling, I am your unworthy dog.

You built this church to save people, yet here I am – distraught

That I am losing what little of me remains – still untold.

…

Your chapel calls my name and I am already here,

Knowing damn well that I won’t be spared for long,

Head down, palms pressed – it was never a prayer.

The words I speak were never meant to reach Heaven,

My voice trembles the moment I hear yours.

Oh, my only cruel truth, I have no lies left to tell you,

You sealed my fate; I am so undone – my body answers yours,

The moment I feel your presence – I am no longer lonely.

I kneel for you the way I knelt for Him,

I keep repeating the promises I no longer believe in,

This time I pray for us to be the final encounter,

Before I burn, delusional, in your quiet blaze.

Your shrine has shackled me as if I am its sacrifice,

My broken chants no longer echo where your lips find mine.

And in a sacred hush I yield without a name,

My breath unsteady, devotion lost countless times;

I look up at you – I choose to lose my afterlife.

Devotion Undone

 

Bend these knees for me, kneel calmly,

Join your palms for a silent obedience,

Whisper gently what remains of our prayer.

Before the shrine we sinned so many times,

Head down, voice low – still calling me,

My little sinner, this time I won’t join.

My sermon is not holy,

I am the devil you refuse to worship when the others are around,

You pose as a saint until I touch your hands.

My altar calls you every evening,

Like a magnet I draw your body when we are apart,

I am the confession you refuse to make,

Yet you beg for me when you are alone.

…

I possess your thoughts like a hungry demon

Waiting to devour the purest soul,

I am the sleepless nights you spend alone,

Begging for the taste that burns your soul to ashes.

Oh, my little sinner, now is not the time.

My senseless behaviour – a succubus unleashed,

I am driving you mad when I decline to answer

Until your knees hurt to numbness,

Until the game I like is running wild.

…

Your desires fuel my absence, your intoxication makes me feel Godlike,

You sin and then I forgive you,

I toy with you until your body gives in.

Oh, my sweet delusion, I am neither a goddess nor a devil in disguise

I am the answer to your dirty wishes – I use you like you used me too.

I have built this church to lure you, to drive you crazy, just to have revenge.

…

My chapel calls you and here you are – crawling back for more,

Head down, hands pressed – it’s not prayer this time.

The things you whisper never reached the sky,

Your voice entwined with mine – a calling never meant to last.

Oh, my little sinner, now unable to tell more lies,

Your faith collapsed, your body meets again mine.

You kneel for me the way you knelt for him, saying the same oaths,

This time lost within my quiet blaze.

My shrine will keep these secrets as if carved in marble stones

Your faithless chants dissolve where my soft breath touches your lips.

And in sacred hush you yield beneath my cold touch,

Your breath uneasy, your devotion turning thin;

I look down at you – to watch you fall within.

Unsubscribed

 

My subscription for these relationships is over,

I refuse to pay any longer,

I am cancelling it – long overdue.

The trial period of this version of life doesn’t serve me anymore,

I won’t be charged for what doesn’t match my energy.

…

In an era of paying fees to watch and listen, I choose to live,

I pick a reality that represents me, not curated versions –

A moment here, a song there – fragments of what could be.

I am blocking every message from ghosts lurking

Only to gossip once I leave of the room.

I am not subscribing to shiny “memories”, filters of glitz and glamour

That do not suit my inner world.

The stars above shine brighter than any effect on those stories.

These reels are not snippets of me but lies told in movie formats

Delusions…

Of someone else’s needs.

I refuse to pay the rent to stay in the doghouse full of blood-hungry hounds.

Wolves in sheep’s clothing circling me in hunger,

Ready to attack when I am weaker, when my guard falls.

HD screens show me movies of foreign opportunities,

My compass shows a different North, even as I face South.

In a world of picture-perfect museums, I choose to be chaotic art.

My words carry the mayhem brewing in the soul

Overstimulated, hollow – sometimes shallow.

Everyone is different.

Art is not a pattern that leads to instant success.

All the ships I had are now reconsidered; some are deaf, others blind.

Even alone,

In the darkness of my inner havoc

I still make it work.

My songs roam the soul free, my words put people in a chokehold

Not because I want to hurt but because I aim to stay real

– what breaks me makes me stronger.

My life is not a comedy show – it’s a messy reality TV with no producers,

The editor’s cut doesn’t sell.

…

My subscription for these relationships is over,

I cut the old wounds once more – deeper this time.

The poison should be drained; the marks might be worse than before.

But the current version of me has unfollowed all the fake influencers

To make room for what truly excites me.

A little pain no longer frightens me,

My reflection is what matters the most,

Even sunk deep in sadness, loneliness or bitterness

I know one day the moon will smile at me again,

A soft silver glow will kiss me when the time comes,

Embracing darkness and light – a Yin Yang that flows tirelessly.

Beneath the False God

 

The coldest rain pours over me,

The raindrops of shadows and memories drench me to the bone,

Cute and scary meet-ups – just us,

Frozen, dangerously numb, I am still here.

…

You and I were never meant to stay forever,

Even when the moon kissed our evenings from the sky above.

…

I endured my fate, filled with torment and sweet pain,

I died several deaths while still alive.

Your touch was fire, purifying my soul,

Your voice was the nightmare I dreamt while held in your hands.

And I wanted every piece of me to shatter until I was free,

Until I was able to choose my path.

Every time I pictured myself away from you,

I felt suffocated, yet trembling at what might come

To grow my own wings, not angelic but wings nonetheless.

I drained my tears, trying not to bleed myself dry,

Worshiping you like a toxic religion, brainwashed, I prayed on my knees,

Waiting for your salvation becoming my own damnation.

…

But every pain washed me clean of every twisted sin you preached.

Every erased smile is now back on my face, a pure evil grin.

Every punishment now my badge of honor, a mark left on my skin.

In the end, my past self vanished beneath the preaching of the false god.

I stand still, on my own, with a voice loud and clear –

Message send,

Response is not required; I was brutally direct.

The coldest rain pours over me,

The raindrops of shadows and memories drench me to the bone,

All the dirt is washed away,

The Misery is no longer living in me!

The Visit

 

No fear, no pain, no sleep, no peace.

…

I open the wooden door for a long walk

But I hear the wolf’s howl, filled with sadness, an echo of loneliness.

I stand frozen, unable to move, touched by his emotions,

Only the dread is never meant to be felt.

My eyes are filling with tears, waves of grief flood every cell of me,

My forgotten memories come like lost movies black-and-white,

Ready to be seen, ready to remind me of the child I was.

The wolf comes near, a blurry shadow at the edge of the misty forest,

His songs are filled with hunger and regret,

Lone wolf – wandering the woods aimlessly, with no need to know where to go.

Scared, I close the door, putting a barrier between me and the approaching howl.

Yet mesmerized, I listen to what he tells me – a story heavy

– Only the fittest can survive.

He is coming closer – he needs a companion even for a minute or so.

His cries bring back the hidden insecurities, moments of my past

Entwined with the unnatural meeting we share.

He is the singer of this horrid song and I am the audience enchanted tone by tone.

My thoughts keep messing with me – so hopeless as if I never was at all.

And he sits in front of the door, mourning whatever he lost,

Roaring sounds shake me to the core – I sink deep into my feelings,

Consumed by powerlessness against the turmoil coming from his throat.

Enchanted, I go through every state of his being,

Emotional exhaustion and then he is gone.

…

The forest is now silent, just a flashback of a life once lived.

Only the faint reminiscence of the presence I felt.

My mind is now black, weary of the encounter I just had.

And on the threshold of my cabin, I still stand quietly

Engulfed by the warmth of who I am now -

No fear, no pain, no sleep, no peace.

The Song I Never Played

 

What would have happened if I had never stopped playing the piano?

Would my life have turned into a beautiful song heard across the world?

Would I still be so insecure about my compositions,

My lyrics forgotten on a hard drive?

What would have happened if I had said nothing and simply kept playing

The melodies inside my head – would I have become a true composer?

What if I had never failed that crucial math exam?

Would I have become fluent in German,

Moving to this country like I once dreamt?

What if I hadn’t backed down and tried to study Asian languages at university?

Would I have travelled across Asia like I always wanted?

What would have happened?

–  A question I have asked myself too many times

When regret feels larger than everything I have achieved so far.

…

But I chose poorly – the times were different, my worldview limited,

Unsure of what I could and couldn’t do…

So many wasted opportunities.

And now I try to make peace with those choices, never quite happy.

As a little child, scared of an angry adult, I quit music

– My first and biggest heartbreak.

I still mourn the lack of resources – small town problems.

Circumstances led to the exam failure, though it was never my greatest regret.

I still blame my younger self for never trying again to switch my major.

It was never the change of city I feared, only my ability to succeed.

…

And now I still ask the same questions, mostly out of habit, knowing it is too late.

My career no longer brings the joy I once had.

I lack creativity, I hate working with numbers.

The only glimmer of hope is the wordplay I have in the evenings when no one is watching

When I can safely break down in tears, tired of the small, stupid daily games I play.

And in the middle of the night, tucked in bed, I still wonder

What might have happened if I stayed with the piano

Instead of standing frozen among strangers in the dim concert hall

Letting others sing the life once I knew as mine.

For a couple of hours, I let my body feel the life that slipped past me.

And every weekend, like clockwork, I pour my heartbreaks into poems like this one,

Stubbornly, I try to keep the last fragment of my soul alive.

Somewhere between the vocals of the songs I listen to and the words I claim as mine,

A small, quiet part of me still refuses to fade away,

It keeps me breathing, something I hold onto.

Yet I drift without direction, unable to see my path ahead.

I never stop moving simply because another day arrives,

Though the life I have feels empty, unfamiliar -

Just another adult demand…

Inner Void

 

Shadows borrowed from another world -

Sunless days and moonless nights,

Left to suffer like some destined martyr

When all I need is a hug from a friend or a foe.

But the world is ruined -

No one walks beside me even into harm.

..

And now caged and broken I rot in the void

Like a monk forgotten in a temple on a mountain high.

My vision shattered, my ears deaf – senses numb just to keep me alive

I am no saint – just a normal human.

Hair matted, face covered in dirt – like a doll I wait on the shelf called life

Buried like a prisoner in the dungeon of my hollow mind.

Warmth has never appealed to me – I am colder than ice,

Winter storms in my heart.

That’s why isolated in the emptiness I stay

To cleanse my mind of the anger I feel among countless souls -

Empty shells.

My rage consumes me like a fire devours dry trees,

Spreading desert – natural disaster.

I am so undone, the answer is never given to me.

Like a rat trapped in a maze, I pace, anxious to escape,

Circling back to wrath – even the silence is not enough.

Vicious thoughts, yet an innocent face smiling, pretending to care.

…

From the depths of my ire I rise again,

My fury doesn’t scare me anymore,

I accept it as my second nature, another demon to tame

Like every sin I have trained to serve me.

I refuse to give up the dark parts of me just to fit into the world.

Disgrace might be my middle name, yet I embrace it.

I am not deceived by the false positivity everyone promotes.

I refuse to wash myself into the light as if horror doesn’t live inside me.

Tired of the molds, I refuse to obey – this is not my nature.

As a hurricane I rage, as a sun I soothe – the Duality I claim as mine.

The Thrill of Being Chased

 

Trigger warning!!! The hunt begins in imagination where fear and craving carefully dance. Some games are meant to stay unplayed.

....

I feel your presence behind me,

Danger fills my body,

I like our little game of cat and mouse in the dark forest,

Feeling scared is what makes me feel alive.

…

Through the lens of a dark romance reader

I explore what I hid so shamefully within my mind,

Always craving one particular hunt,

Forbidden fantasies, taboo attraction,

My inner fire burns my skin from the inside.

…

Your shadow lingers in the corner pitch-black,

My throat aches for the firmness of your grip,

I want the weakness to consume me,

I don’t want to feel safe.

With you it is so easy, always ready to play these games with me

And flirting with my demons – never bored, a constant thrill.

My nose recognizes you even when you follow at a distance,

Trying to keep it low, blending into the scenery, leaving no trace.

The stillness of your breath has mapped my spine,

Tattoo of a new kind, where every shiver is a prelude to pleasure,

Never – ending sweet pain.

I let the fear sink deeply into my bones,

Marks of possession, so well-known to me.

I walk through the empty alleys knowing you can catch me anytime,

While the safety of the forest holds our wickedness at bay.

…

You make your presence clear, your raspy voice telling me to run away

Your fiend cannot wait any longer, the cage not strong enough to contain it,

You and I – a game of predator and prey.

You caught me or I let you – we will keep it as it looks to untrained eyes.

The chase is over, time to unleash what we carefully hid,

And the night is our only witness as the game ends here,

Where our wickedness begins.