I have carried my hurt like a quiet storm,
years of thunder no one ever heard 😔
And now the ache rises in me like a tide,
begging for a gentleness I’ve never felt 💔💦
I imagine her sweetness the way a starving man imagines bread—
not as fantasy,
but as something my body remembers even though it never had it 😣
A hand in my hair,
a touch meant to calm the trembling inside me,
a softness that doesn’t ask me to earn it or prove the depth of my suffering 💔😢
Just tenderness, given because she sees the weight I’ve carried and doesn’t turn away 😞
I don’t need saving. I don’t need miracles. I just need one moment where someone’s warmth reaches the places that have been cold for too long 💔🥀
And maybe one day, when the world is quiet, I’ll feel that softness for real— not imagined, not borrowed from movies, but living, breathing, finally mine 😔💔