Shadow writer

Bottled Love

I found it one summer, adrift by the shore,
A bottle of secrets, sealed evermore.
Its glass was worn smooth by the whispering tides,
A vessel of longing, where love softly hides.

The cork was a guardian, firm in its hold,
Protecting the message it silently told.
With trembling fingers, I lifted it free,
Unveiling a story that beckoned to me.

The parchment was fragile, yet vibrant with care,
Each word a confession, suspended in air.
"I love you," it started, in ink softly bled,
A heart laid to paper, the unsaid now said.

It spoke of a meeting beneath twilight skies,
Of laughter and promises, tear-stained goodbyes.
Of oceans dividing what hearts could not sever,
And vows to remember, forever and ever.

But time is a thief, and fate is unkind,
The sender still waiting, with hope intertwined.
The sea claimed the message, its journey unplanned,
To land in the grip of a stranger's own hand.

I placed the note back, and sealed it with care,
A love not my own, yet too precious to share.
I cast it once more to the vast, endless blue,
For bottled love belongs to the hearts it is due.
shadow writer

Don't die of loneliness

Love is only right when it feels right.

She drowns in pain, I can feel it..
Her eyes, all red and teary, but it won't drop, she's strong. At least she tries to be..

She's stuck with the phrase love is blind and so she loves unconditionally..
I wish she gives her heart eyes so it can see how severe it is bleeding..

Her heart is a broken punching bag with no room for patching, yet she says love only feels right when it hurts..

Her sacrifices holds no significance, yet she stays.
She's way too forgiving so she's always on a last try..

How I wish she can understand that love is only right when it feels right..

Shadow writer.