the-feral-quill

[the-feral-quill]

A Love That Won’t Let Go

What happens when the purest love won’t turn into hate? When the love that wrapped so gentle now strangles me, sometimes slowly, sometimes all at once— the tides of grief and loss knocking me over and over again.

When it hurts to cry and hurts more to feel, and wishing and hoping does nothing but reel. When to lay my head down means imagining your face, when everything I do takes me to another place— ungrounded and stuck in the ground all at once.

Looking after myself, but for what? I don’t know how to take care of this me that I don’t know.

This new growth was a bit too painful, and now I am resentful of my own face. When will I recognize her? When will she be my new love?

How long will I hold on to this thorned stem, dead rose? Is it just to feel the pain, to know my existence is real? But is the pain worth this just to feel?

If I can love once and twice, why not a third time? Why must every end be the end? What if letting go means I win?

Every ending has a new beginning, they say— but what if the ending was not mine to make?

Change is the only constant, and yet somehow, we are still not friends. I feel so bitter and heartbroken, and having trouble finding ways to mend.

So here I am, sitting on the very same fence again.

[the-feral-quill]

If Only You Could See

You see the dark, and I see the light. You see the strife; I see the love still worth the fight.

I see through eyes full of love, While you see hate seething deep in your core. But once, it was love— And it can be again.

If only you could see the sun as the gift that it is, Instead of focusing on how it burns your skin. If only you could see the moon and bask in its soft glow, Instead of standing in shadows, bitter and cold.

To see the glass as half full, To see through love, To know the grass is still green, my love— If only you could see through my eyes, You’d know how beautiful this world truly is.

[the-feral-quill]

When the Fog Lifts

The fog of your doubt clouds my sight, blurring the world around me, heavy and thick, yet as fleeting as air you can’t breathe. The heart you guard so carefully aches to break out.

It yearns for the connection it once knew so well— Like the well of unworthiness you pour into, over and over, telling yourself you’re not enough, that you’ll never be enough, using someone else’s words as your knife, digging the wound a little deeper. At least then, you’ll feel something you can control.

The swell in your heart, like a tide, threatening to knock you down with each wave of emotion, making you feel as if you’ll drown, as it keeps pushing you down— like the feelings you want buried deep, lost to the ocean floor, never to be seen again, except by someone willing to dive into the unknown. But by then, it will be lost to the sea once more.

Giving your love to the web— the careful web you wove, fragile, the tension pulling it taut, about to snap. You caught something you weren't expecting, and the web became heavy, the weight of it all too much.

It’s like the weight that shifts every time you hear my name, the echo of my laughter, lingering in your mind.

Does it feel worth it yet?

Has love been so cruel, that you’ve given up hope? That the sun never shines in your direction, that the moon is the only light you can see, though you hide in its shadows, the shadows you’ve made— the place where you're alone, yet safe.

But your tears fall silently, your cries muffled in your hands. All the unspoken words fill up each hand, slipping through your fingers, like leaves falling on a crisp autumn day. Yet you believe they’ll be stomped on and swept away.

Acceptance feels like fear, wrapped in the weight of responsibility. You believe it will pull you deeper into the dark, but the light you seek is within reach.

The hope you hide will come to light. It will show you the garden you left behind. It will show you all the ground you covered, all the hours you spent. Your garden is simply unattended, but it never relented. It stays there, even if you walk away. Throw your words out like seeds, watch them grow—albeit slowly.

Like the warm breeze of hope, pushing the fog of doubt away, the sun was always there, only blocked by the mist.

So open your hands, your heart— let the seeds fall where they may, and know that, when the sun breaks through, we'll be here, together in the light.

[the-feral-quill]

The Dutiful Daughter

I played the role of the dutiful daughter, I dotted every "i" and crossed every "t." So then why did it have to be me?

Why did I have to be the one you betrayed, The one whose heart you broke in every single way? I believed beyond all reason, I hoped beyond all hope, That my intuition was wrong.

I played my part so well— Why couldn't you do yours? To protect me, to love me, to cherish me.

Instead, yet again, The pain was too much? You had to cope?

What about me and all the pain you put me through? What about how I was coping? I was doing better. I was getting somewhere. You threw my hard work and crushed it— Again.

I played my part so well, So why does it hurt so much? You called me on my birthday And told me singing wasn't worth it, That I wasn’t worth it. My love was never going to be enough for you, It was never going to heal you.

The drugs were your medicine, And my pain, the remedy. I know you're not happy, But I can't stay here. I quit this part.

I was the dutiful daughter Whose only sin Was loving her father with all her heart.

[the-feral-quill]

The Mountain Between Us

Are you staring up at the same mountain, Wondering if it works? Every cut of your heart bleeding, Will you bleed out? Or will you see my face on the other side, Or will you be met with the bitter winds you know so well?

Will it be the same, Even though you know it is different? Is it worth it— Are you worth it? Or will you be right Because you are good at filling yourself with prophecy, Will you destroy the beautiful love That is safe in your fantasy?

Reality has not been kind, Even though you are. Even though we know, You know, I know it is. Knowing you’ve been wrong before, You’ve been right.

Is the risk of the climb up, Is the air thin, Or is it a breath of hope You bury deep inside you Because there, it is safe? You are safe if you’re alone, Surrounded by people, But none of them are me.

None of them are you, And you know what you want it to be, But where you want it to be— To be where it was meant to be Means being vulnerable, With a heart that is already fragile, Held together by stitches You did with your own hands.

How do you hand it over, Knowing at any time, It could be over? It can end. If it never starts, It can’t end. But if it never starts, You will know it is missing—

Missing me, Missing the feeling That is so bright but burns. Is it better to be the moon, You can see from afar in your dreams, But it will never be enough?

Go to the unknown, Or keep it close to your heart, safe— But hurting. But will you hurt either way? Is it worth the fall? Will you catch me, Or will you be another scar, Reminding me that it wasn’t worth it, That I wasn’t worth it?

Or will the gentle hands That you begged God for be there, Or will He have forgotten again? Did He send an angel, Or a devil with a sweet voice— That voice you hear every time you close your eyes?

The tears fall, But are you able to believe in it all, Despite every fiber of your being Telling you to run into the darkness That wraps you in an embrace of regret? Will you go to the tiny light, Waiting for you to fan it with the hope That you hide so well?

But it’s not hidden from yourself. Will you wait to see how long the light will be there? Will it be there, or will it move on, Leaving you like the time before— The cycle repeating itself over and over?

What will you choose? What will they? And what if we both choose each other— What then?

Brace for the fear of the unknown, Both hand in trembling hand. The choice is ours—yours, mine, ours. Will we brave love, Or sit alone with our thoughts again, Waiting for our heads To stop fighting our hearts, Who know very well what they want?

When did breathing Become so hard without you? I chose love over regret— The choice I made to face.

I wait to see the reason to smile Instead of cry, Of the face I can’t see. The choice of patience. Love is, after all, patience, kind— Like the feeling overflowing.

I just hope it reaches you, And you reach for me, Over this mountain of fear, At the top, Where everything is clear.

[the-feral-quill]

The Fear of Thriving

Wiping away tears because they're shameful, The peaceful silence is slicing through me, like a dagger across my heart. Each step is painful, Every restart, that challenging.

Happiness, joy, contentment, love, Should be something I fight; it should be embraced. Yet I wrap my arms around myself, squeezing tighter and tighter till I can't breathe.

Write a future that doesn't exist, and denying my present daily. It's a trap and a trick. All these things that happen aren't inconvenient; they're bombs coming to Shatter the peace I so desperately fight to hold.

I'm looking for any reason to sabotage it all, Because I'm used to the fall. I am afraid of the standing still, Of the warm embrace of how life should be.

Surviving was scary, But thriving is terrifying. What if I fail at that too?

[the-feral-quill]

The Comfort of You

Thank you for being there when you're busy or unwell, For listening to my rants, my stories to tell. Thank you for taking my feelings to heart, For showing me care right from the start.

Thank you for making me feel safe and secure, For effort and time that makes me feel sure. Thank you for being yourself, nothing more, It helps me feel comfy, lets my own heart soar.

Thank you for smiles on the days I might cry, For laughter that lingers when tears won't dry. Thank you for always just being you, For all that you give and all that you do.

[the-feral-quill]

The Rabbit’s Leap

Timid, shaking, eyes dart wide, The rabbit trembles, seeks to hide. Afraid of true rejection’s sting, The kind that leaves you frozen, clinging.

Yet trembling, it steps ahead, Though looking back, its heart is dread. The forest, dark, once felt so near, Now whispers endless paths of fear.

What if this journey leads to none? What if freedom leaves it undone? Chains of wounds still fresh, still raw, The rabbit bleeds, its breath in awe.

Each step forward, growth and pain, Each step back feels cursed again. Its white fur stains with every fall, It hates itself, yet braves it all.

With a fox’s drive and deepened breath, It shakes off nature’s quiet death. The rabbit dares to break its mold, Embrace the new, though weak and cold.

It finds the sun, its warm embrace, And faces nights alone in space. Some would call it prey by name, But not all see it quite the same.

For even sitting still’s a choice, The rabbit runs to find its voice. Time waits for none; it knows this best, Wonderland is a self-made quest.

With wounds still healing, soul still worn, The rabbit hops through paths forlorn. Softly, it speaks of rewards unknown, And lets the past stay overthrown.

Each day’s an adventure, bold and bright, Even for a rabbit afraid of the night. Though fear still lingers after the fall, The rabbit moves, despite it all.

[the-feral-quill]

Reflections of Sabotage

All there is at the end is an endless void, Where words that were never said lie still, Where broken dreams drift, abandoned hopes float, On the surface of promises unkept— All the heartache, and all the tears wept.

A self-fulfilling prophecy of sabotage looms, A demon masked as mercy, wielding control, False relief draped upon worshippers and followers, Their secrets unsaid, devouring them whole.

Dying from feelings long hidden, long kept, Rotting, waiting for love to arrive— A love only ever meant to come from oneself, Staring into the void, wondering what's left.

[the-feral-quill]

In Every Unspoken Word

Instant. Electric. Connection.

A vibration, words I never knew I needed, a feeling completed.

Scary beyond all reason, because it was only chance that led me to you— or was it fate, knowing that one needed two?

The effortless way you stay on my page, finger under each new word, listening to every unspoken word I say, bringing me comfort and peace in ways unknown to me.

Keeping your heart within arm’s reach, whispering in a way I almost hear your doubts, like you’re trying to sort your feelings out.

But they spill, overflowing, with every time you speak to me, with all the effort you breathe into me, with all the silent laughs and hard smiles, with how, with you, everything slows down for a while.

All the while, my heart races every time you say my name; a breath hitches in my chest when I say yours. I’m overwhelmed and anxious, but you make me a choice, not an option.

You speak of me like an old book you’ve read over and over, like you’re waiting with bated breath for the next chapter— because you want to be it.

You want to hold me gently in your hand, knowing, understanding that the pen in my hand is shaking, that the previous pages had my heart breaking, that the old pages are torn and bruised.

Yet, you treat each one as if they’re shiny and new. You don’t put me on the shelf; you don’t hide me in a box or closet. You display me coyly, so others can see my beauty but never hold me the way you do.

For there are secret pages within that, if others could, they would covet. You know they’d love it.

So you hold me close to your chest. I feel the warmth, and I forget how afraid I was to say the words I couldn’t bring myself to say, how I held back too long—they’re overflowing in every way, and how I keep praying to God you’ll stay.

How I pray every day you’ll keep choosing me, and I’ll keep my heart open to you, because things are just beginning.

But damn, do I want you— want you in whatever form you may come: slowly, thoughtfully, patiently, growing, feeling, everything, all at once.

But even these words will never be enough to express everything you make me feel.

Let’s be real.

[the-feral-quill]

A Soul’s Embrace

Sitting in the dark because it brings far more comfort than the light.

There is nothing here for all my doubts and fears, and at the bottom, the well of all my tears.

There, a child is crying, a teenager is screaming, and a young woman is trying desperately to find meaning.

I look to them with pity; their emotions are plenty, overwhelm wrapping me like vines, the thorns of each new and old emotion digging in.

My blood, sweat, and tears— yet life never feels like a win. How long must I carry the weight I thought I had dropped?

When will I heal enough to live and not exist, to thrive and not survive, to find joy in everyday life?

To find solace in those that love me, to find beauty in those that accept me, to stand in awe of my reflection, to see the me those loving eyes mirror back.

To find comfort in the words that soothe the crying child, to calm the screaming teenager, to guide the young woman, explaining that life is an adventure that doesn’t need a plan.

To help the survivor understand that in order to thrive, she must let go of control, to let be, to not look back— the future is waiting, and the present is calling.

Healing may not be linear, but it’s a checkpoint— so even if we have to go back, we can always move forward.

And one day, we will stand firm in ourselves; we will whisper, I love you.

I love every crack and fissure, I love every flaw without measure, I love every emotion we feel, I love the body that carries our soul, and I love our soul and our love, most of all.

[the-feral-quill]

Crimson Confessions

Feeling like the true self, Emotions hidden from everyone else. Hoping no harm is done, Praying for understanding, Accepting when it’s not there.

Writing down words sworn to be said, Resisting each thought, Trying not to let the mind sway.

Is it possible to feel this happy When everything around is in disarray? Hiding a crimson face, Whispers to a beating heart— When did it all start?

How long was this denied? How long was the wait? Was it too late?

Are intentions clear? Is the image seen the same way?

[the-feral-quill]

Pretty and Pink

A lesson that was wanted to keep, Never learned, always on repeat. The feeling was unmatched, Nothing could compete, Until emptiness took over, Replaced what should feel complete.

Blinded by a foolish heart, The loveliest shade of pink. All doubts remain, Lingering with a haunting ghost.

The joke is clear; a lost and wandering soul, Clinging to memories that might not be real. Just a way to pass the time, But joy was brought to these days.

A lesson that could never be kept, The universe chose a different plan. One will remember, and another forget, The journey continues—reluctantly met.

[the-feral-quill]

Fragile Canvas

Who is there when not loving? Who exists if not giving? A taped-together heart, held out, Hoping it will be taken, Seen like a priceless work of art— Something to be admired, Never touched.

Because the moment it is, Everything falls apart.

Tears of acceptance fall, Breaths of doubt are drawn. How can someone so wonderful, Hold broken pieces in hand, And not see that putting them together Is a waste of time?

Once the whole picture is seen, Departure feels inevitable. The puzzle, complete, No longer new or shiny— Just a worn-out puzzle with missing pieces, In a worn-out box, Lost but never found.

[the-feral-quill]

The Weight of Doubt

Insecurity, jealousy, doubt, They circle like vultures, Leaving no way out now.

Stones being cast, Daggers being tossed, Feelings of being cornered, Feelings of being lost.

Standing with weak knees, And a tear-stained face, Not being able to remain in the place.

The darkness cannot swallow, The warmth has to stay within, Can't let the devils win— Have to stay calm and keep the peace within.

[the-feral-quill]

The Need Within

Lips that are magnetic, A grip that's firm and wanting, Skin, smooth— A need to touch every inch of skin.

A desperate need to be within, To cling, to hold, to melt, The undeniable ecstasy to be felt.

The harmonious sounds, In the form of whimpers and gasps, For air, shared and stolen, Until the moment of release, When bodies are at peace, And seeking sweet slumber.

The want, the need, To stay next to each other, And be there for one another.

[the-feral-quill]

Contradictions of the Heart

Green with envy, jaded, Kindness that feels weighted. Nothing but impatience, Building mountains instead of fields of flowers, waiting.

Vulnerable and wounded, Scared to approach. Swallowing each new emotion down, With the bitterness that gloats.

Pushing when wanting to pull, Hiding in shadows, to their delight. Waiting for darkness, In the middle of the sun's bright light.

Longing for doom and gloom, Praying for rain. For thunder and lightning may terrify, But they comfort all the same.

Contradictory and hypocritical, Nothing ever changes. Yet the desperate need remains— To change.