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@Jeffrwey
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Peace found me in Roseanne’s eyes.
Eng Mvrp - SMLEGENDS.
Joined March 2025
There was a place where hands leave pieces of themselves among the multitude. No name was ever written, just a faint trace that a light-haired man once passed through. A good memoir, if it never leaves the mind.
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I love your thousand personalities. To be loved by you is to live fully, and loving you is my sweetest surrender. Have I just revealed how proudly I wear this obsession? If so, then I don’t mind at all.
Don’t take this as me agreeing with the cliché that women think with their hearts whereas men think with logic, because it’s an oversimplification. But it’s true that I can have 60 seconds and 61 moods, and it’s insane how much you make me feel loved while dealing with it all.
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Dear @Rosep, The 15th finds me loving you again. Not just for today, but in all the days I get to call ours. I love you. You know it deeply. Still, I will keep saying it, until time itself learns my devotion. https://t.co/jqORpuEdrb
medium.com
I love you, Rosemarie.
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I’ve been sitting with this version longer than I thought. Bringing it back, so close in time, as if it never loosened its grip on me. We all keep tastes that linger, and desires that refuse to be buried.
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My preferences have never been ordinary. Difference was always the point. It belongs outside the norm.
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Missing this hair. Its return remains unwritten. Someone, however, has always known it would.
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I’m always mid-conversation with my own mind. Thoughts scatter, knocking on doors, and I carry a satisfaction untouched by anyone’s thoughts.
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You asked for flowers, not knowing I’d willingly give you a garden filled with everything you love. I don’t do the bare minimum for the love of my life. I’d give you my world, gladly.
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He was born to ride, grip firm upon the wheel. Eyes sharp as stars cleave the shadowed veil, guided by conviction in the labyrinth ahead. Soon enough, he will reach his horizon.
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The presence was announced by the cadence of his stride. “He knew he won,” they said.
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Familiar territory. Numbers became meaningless, five times, perhaps more. He didn’t dwell on it, knowing those who saw would bend anyway. Praise never interested him. It was the gravity of obsession.
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It was long before darkness touched the room. Seatbelts buckled, tension rose, the air grew heavier. Then came the pressure. Finally, the attention he earned.
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