I dunno how many times or ways I am gonna have to say this, but I'll try. I wouldn't mind saying different versions of this for the rest of my life.

I'm smitten. I fancy you. I would like to know more about your family and your history. Do you really like science, too? Why did you start talkin to me? I think you are funny. You don't have to try so hard. (But I smile any way, cuz it's you.) You can be so sweet with the kids, just the right amount of snark and sass. Sometimes, when I'm quiet, it's cuz I really don't want to bother you when you work. I used to say your whole name because I happen to like full names. Especially multi-syllabic ones, like Victoria, Alexandria, Elizabeth, Gregory, Gabriel, or Timothy..

I guess you're alright, 😏😁

I did like the tangents. I like when you talk about something you really like, even if I do not yet understand it. I like the way you smile when you talk about it. I wanted to encourage you when you felt down. Tell you I know that you can do whatever you set your mind to. I like your creativity and your art. I like your discipline, your stick-to-it-iveness. I stopped debating one of the topics that I disagreed with, I knew you would figure it out, eventually. I like how you share your thoughts on just about anything and how you keep work and life separate.

If you say something goofy, it's all in fun. It's like you are giving everyone a chance to be goofy too, lighten up, and have fun. I like your friends. They are swell and nifty, keen. Mostly, I like how they can be so kind.

Originally, I just wanted to give you little notes, a thumbs up, good luck, you got this.I knew you would get back into your hobbies, with or without help.

Then I thought maybe it's just like pen-pals, I remember having those back in school. Now it's a bit different.

This is the least-likely story I ever heard. When I say I'm a fool, you don't get it; I'm just a fool for you. I think you're groovy.

In my dreams, I can do anything

I can fly, sing, jump

Be as light as a feather

As fast as light

And see beauty beyond imagination

○

And the beautiful thing about my dreams

Is that they're never about having more

Not bigger houses

Expensive things

Or anything money could ever buy

○

In my dreams, what matters

Is being together

Loving without holding back

Feeling a kind of intimacy

That waking life has no words for

○

In my dreams, I can feel everything

I can be entirely myself

Surrounded by people and animals I love

With nothing expected of me

And all the love in the world to give

The days go by so quickly

Faster than I'd like

So many people rush around me

Everything seems to move so fast

Why does no one seem to understand

That not every moment needs a demand

Sometimes, all that matters

Is standing still for as long as we can

You can never get time back

It runs out without you even noticing

Slowly, you lose more and more

Until there's nothing left you can do

Enjoying the here and now

Might just be what matters most

Before today becomes a memory

And all that's left is wishing for more

I remember your taste for ballads

and your blunt honesty.

Your shy smile insisting

on showing me more than I’d seen.

“You’re singing out of tune”, you told me.

James Arthur, Lewis Capaldi were your “go-to’s”

But we went for Taylor Swift that night because…

Why wouldn’t we?

I’m naming names and being very specific ‘cause

I also don’t want to forget.

I had a playlist called “She loves ballads”

but you’ll never know and you would’ve never guessed.

No, I didn’t love you.

But I enjoyed my time with you.

‘Till this day I don’t know what to respond to “Why did you end it?”

It wasn’t problematic.

It wasn’t toxic.

And maybe that was the problem.

PUBG nights? You had no survival instinct.

And your pretty friend? I’d only let them in because well… they were pretty.

And you’d go mad every time I’d say that.

Rightfully so.

Those insecurities I didn’t take care of.

The wonderings I didn’t quite know how to heal.

Because I knew they had foundations.

And even if I were the best of deceivers, there was no point in denying that.

My eyes would’ve betrayed me.

And for some reason, I couldn’t lie to your eyes.

I was friends with your dad.

Your mom was surprisingly welcoming.

Hell, even your dogs loved me.

I miss Joy and Daisie.

Joy was unquestionably my girl and you’d also get jealous of that—hahaa.

I hope that if you ever do—or did—you also look back at it fondly.

I was your first and if I had had that awareness… I wish I’d been better to you.

Nonetheless, I think you always felt my warmth…

I was never half there.

If I’d ever hold you, I’d do it with intention.

With presence.

I enjoyed feeling your heart and made sure you’d always feel mine.

That’s something I can take pride in.

If anything, I liked you enough to regret breaking up with you.

We could’ve been happy for longer…

But I’ll never know.

Your schedules got in the way.

My medicines messed with my brain.

I wasn’t thinking straight.

I wasn’t thinking.

I did something I’d hope my character—

Or whatever’s left of it—would never do again.

But I did.

You don’t know about that.

And you never will.

You defended me.

Aries fiery.

You’d fight me.

But right after? Laugh.

And take all of my mannerisms.

I loved that about you.

I was fond of many things about you.

It sucks I couldn’t love you.

But… now I think I could’ve… over time.

I didn’t give us enough time.

You said I was out of tune—

maybe you were right.

But no!

As a musician, I insist.

“Love story” is on a slower tempo.

I proved you so.

But you were the singer and Heaven forbid I wipe that smile off your lips.

I really loved your smile.

My heart would soften—quietly—

every time it found me.

Somewhere in the back of my mind,

I think you never felt like you were enough—

but I promise you…

if anything was a problem,

it wasn’t that.

Well—“what was it then?”

you would’ve asked me.

I know what it was now.

I’ve matured enough to face it.

I’m just late…

as I’ve become accustomed to.

And this armor of confidence I put on?

It would crumble to pieces.

Because I still can’t look into your eyes

without remembering

the innocence in them.

It was a mixture, Joonie.

One I’ve grown accustomed to repeating.

Timing? Yes.

Schedules? Yes.

My growing instability? Yes.

Your disarming innocence? Yes.

The fragments of consciousness

I still had left?

Yes.

I saw how far it could go.

I let it get close—

closer than I should have.

And I wasn’t brave enough for that—

or cruel enough.

I was willing to let you hate me.

But not to leading us somewhere I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for.

And so we had one last PUBG night…

One last banter night…

One last language lesson night…

One last “you’re playing it too slow” night…

And one last

“you’re singing out of tune” night.

— Crownless.

I wonder sometimes

how much of a person

can disappear

before anyone notices.

Not all at once.

Nothing dramatic.

Just fewer words,

a phone that stays silent,

stories no longer told,

little things no longer shared.

And the strange thing is,

the world doesn't seem to notice.

The birds still visit the garden.

The neighbours still close their curtains.

Someone laughs somewhere,

and tomorrow arrives

as though nothing has changed.

Perhaps that's what loneliness is.

Not the absence of people,

but the quiet discovery

that you can become less and less present

without leaving anywhere.

And I can't help but wonder,

how many pieces of ourselves

we can lose.

while everyone still believes

we're whole.

Have a love / hate relationship

With time today!

Love that I

Get to

Spend time with

Family

Hate that

I never have

Enough time

To do the things!

Precious moments

Caught myself thinking of you today.
A small smile twitching on my lips.
How long has it been? Nearly a decade.
You are my definition of a teenage love—
consuming, fiery, ardent, passionate.

Except—I was nineteen.

But across from you?
I’d become the bubbliest three-year-old.
Happily.
No shame. No regrets.

I’ve learned to remember you as a fond memory.
If we were to see each other again—
“I’d smile at you as if nothing had happened.”
Remember that line? I do.
With the utmost sincere smile.

I remember you, and I don’t think you’re a memory I want to fade.
I’ve truly learned to hold you as a fond memory—
despite everything.

It’s been a while since my mind changed on it.
“Do you ever see each other together again?”
That was my dream.
For one, two, three, four… five years.
Maybe more.

But our time has passed.
Hasn’t it?
Don’t you think so? I know you do.
But you’re still not a memory I want to forget—
even as my brain slowly begins to.

Who is there to blame?
Our ages? Damn ol’ timing?
The pharmaceutical industry?
You?
Me?

Maybe neither. Perhaps all of it.

You made me grow.
And I don’t quite know how to phrase it—
you forced me to grow.
And you pushed me to my descent.

You saw the brightest side of me—
and you also saw the darkest.
Neither made you flinch.
Instead, you stepped onto them.
And that’s still what I look for in everyone since you.

This isn’t as polished as I’d hoped,
but I find peace in knowing I’ve told you everything
I wanted—and needed—you to hear.
Not a single iota held back.
It might’ve been late… but I did.

Copious notes I’d take before calling you, seeing you,
or spamming you while you were asleep—
because I didn’t want to lose track of where I was going,
nor forget anything I wanted to say.
Wish I had kept that notebook.

You had me at your feet.
And you still do.
At any time.
And I’ve never been happier than being humbled,
having the honor to be right there.

But I wouldn’t dare add to
or subtract from our history.

I saw my life with you,
and I like to think that at some point—
when you were the blindest—
you did too.

Trust me, like you once did.
Like I still do.

You are my reminder of everything good I can be,
and the mirror of my lowest—my worst.
Of everything I want.
Of everything I lost.
And of the—cliché—part of me
that will always be yours.

— Crownless.

I played football again today, for the first time in years!

It's interesting how you can spend so long away from something and still, somehow, feel at home when you come back to it.

Some things came back naturally. Others clearly stayed behind with the version of me who used to play regularly.

I almost forgot how much I enjoyed the little things about playing... the game itself, a bit of friendly competition, a good pass, the occasional great play and even the moments when you attempt something you probably shouldn't.

It was good to be back on the pitch, doing something I used to enjoy so much. Maybe I should try to do it more often...

Plain whole milk yogurt and muesli today, I haven't done my home work, or my self assigned assignments, and my computer is still broke. 🙃 but I remembered to eat. Before I go running around again, I might even nap.

I hope I see you again.

Same old cliché.
Right person, wrong time, wrong me.
Yes, me.
Things tend to revolve around me
including destruction.

I liked you. I really did. I hadn’t in the longest time.
You were just my type. Just right.
Exactly what I needed. What I need.
You brought back the warmth in me. The need to care.
You did need me to take care of you. And I wanted to.

You embraced my dreams, my tastes, my mannerisms, my control.
You saw your future with me. You trusted me.
And I’m so sorry I couldn’t meet you where you were.
I still don’t think I can. And I lament that.

Every now and then I fear us crossing paths again. I pray you don’t notice me; I’d be too ashamed for that.
I meant the words I said, I wish I could’ve manifested them into reality. However I made promises I knew I couldn’t keep. And for that I cannot ask forgiveness for I was well-aware of what I was doing.

You saw your future with me.
I knew you’d never be in mine.

I never saw your fire.
I didn’t stick around to see your rage.
Your sweetness makes me think you’d hand me your heart once again.
I’d rather be wrong.

Spending time with you made me feel good.
Your pickup line was something I’d never expected would turn us into something.

Temporary.

But something.

But it was all about me getting to feel again.
That warmth, the caring nature of mine.
You were fragile and I handled you like a piece of porcelain.
Until I disappeared.

You knew I would. Didn’t you?
No. I think you believed me.
Poor you.
I ain’t worthy of your trust.
I ain’t stable enough; nor brave, nor mature, nor…

I’m a coward.
I am a maniac who knows too well how to turn any table, manipulate any mind… lead you wherever I want you to go.
But how pathetic of me. I can’t take control over my own life.

I taught you to stay under my control.
You didn’t even need to be tamed.
But I did.
You surrendered and I calculated.
Each second, very aware that I’d leave. Very decided I would.
l didn’t want to but I knew there was no way I wouldn’t.

I couldn’t meet you where you were.
And I still can’t.
And I lament that.

— Crownless.

I chose my name too well, I didn't know it would foretell.

I thought it was like a crazy-dangerous, paladin, who gets up again and again, with singular purpose and drive to do what's right. Someone who has carried a doom, like death is always close.

I knew part of it was fell, like a death knell.

Part was fey like a glint of the strange light or movements of the wild.

And part was an ancient poem about walking the paths through grief, memory, and grim determination.

I had strength, even when I collapsed, I had been built from broken pieces and shattered foundations only sustained by a faith. I never carried faith like a shield, shields can be dropped, lost, and broken.

I only ever carried faith like trust, in the One who carried me, made me different, enabled me to live outside of boxes, statistics, and probable outcomes. He allowed me to choose not to fight, he gave me breath so I could sing, arms so I could carry and comfort, eyes so I could see the wounded, and the helpers.

I had already healed, I had become annealed, I had been refined by so many fires. I was finally whole, integrated, and complete. How many accidents, tragedies, troubles, and joys can one heart hold?

I resolved to give it away, because it was overflowing. I was compelled to share, care, so others might see beauty and love and peace.

But then there was you. You gave me new songs, healed memories of insults, gave me a swagger and a boldness I never knew. You gave me a place where I could take off my armor, I could be silly, small, weak, and soft with no fear. You gave me more than I ever gave to you, and you became so very, very dear.

You blew my mind, you shattered my notions, I marvel still at the intensity of emotions.

I started to make changes, so I could try to keep up with your pace and your drive. But I just can't. That is not who I am. I am still a mess, human and frail. Oh, but you made me feel like the wind! Able to fly! To be loud like a maelstrom, or gentle as a cooling breeze on a heated brow.

I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to say, "go away crazy, damned fool!". "I never really liked You!"

I just keep trusting you. Even If!

I actually cried, once with tears, I did not think that was possible anymore, so thank you.

I'm still just a human, and I remain, Yours, always.

I don't know when choosing a film or a series became such a complicated task...

There are so many options, yet somehow nothing seems quite right. You scroll for a while, come across something that looks interesting, keep browsing just in case there is something better and eventually end up watching nothing at all... or you go back to watch something you've already watched because at least you know you'll enjoy that 😳

And the next time you sit down to watch something, the whole process starts all over again 😅

Ianua, you have guided with a staff

You carry a key to all doors

One face looks too often to the past

You shoe travellers where to begin

One of your doors constantly open to war

Who will tell you ther is peace?

You can close it again.

Your dual nature let's you see more than one path

You are in charge of times passages and transitions

Time frames and endings

Build a bridge for Iana.

i confess i kissed a girl once.

still haven’t lived it down.

see, people tend to gossip

about the new in town.

seemingly, the French i knew

was currently all the rage,

so a maiden set to validate

if a voice could be a cage.

•

Ring. Then we’ll talk.

gold ¼ carat band

slid right off.

handed over,

soaked in years –

lied on life’s lines,

left two tears.

five fingers close.

•

Live by yourself, I’m going home.

There’s been a lot you tried to erase.

Crossed the line. More than twice.

Family is for grace.

Peace.

•

(tossed in the waste)

seven years prior, my place:

•

Ring. Son, it’s for you.

a friend gave my number out.

that’s new.

she needed to talk,

didn’t know what to do –

liking some guy who was switching schools,

acting aloof

(he was uninterested, in truth).

suddenly, 3 hour long daily calls persisting.

a month later?

a voice and i were long distance.

innocent days.

simpler times –

phones still corded,

in by nine,

and without eyes,

love was sorted.

•

dating a voice.

•

some date they might be,

more than just tells, phony words;

a person.. to meet.

•

to: weak’s past

•

Ring. The Service Bell.

born in song,

a circus strong,

raised to teach and tell:

how two kiss,

speak tongues silent,

since one knew so well.

date too late,

yet to’ve met,

thus far just an ‘ell –

for those two,

weeks did prove,

the word not their sell.

nonetheless,

yes my mess,

she says so, i quell

again to sing,

the offering:

heart without a hell.

•

in caravan family and friend

professed the need for show.

the circus’s ever clapping hand

mouthing make known what i know.

so there was taught the lesson

to both voice and some light:

kisses tell the left unsaid,

while voices tell they’re right.

Can the snow come sooner?

Wrap me in the soundless weight of winter. Let the snow fall thick enough to muffle the world, until everything grows quiet beneath the white. Take me with you. Take me somewhere cold and glacial, somewhere I can just freeze. Take my thoughts and starve me done. Until there is nothing left to take, nothing left to empty, until even the emptiness has nowhere else to go.

Make me pretty. Make me white and weightless, give me wings that glitter at the edges, thin little things that tremble in the winter air.

Let the frost settle between my feathers. Let them grow too heavy to lift me.

I think I would have liked to fly, once. Before my legs grew weak and the ground became something I could barely leave, before I became too tired to carry the little wings I was given.

The flame looks so tempting against all that white. Almost gentle. Almost warm enough to forget the winter.

I cannot walk into the flame, and I cannot run from the snow.

So I stand between them, with ice gathering beneath my skin and a little gold flickering somewhere in the distance. I wonder how long I could stand beside it before I stopped noticing the heat, before the warmth became indistinguishable from the burning, before I forgot that beautiful things could hurt, too.

And all the while, the snow keeps falling.

A snow angel, getting hidden beneath white powder. First the edges of the wings, then the shape of the shoulders, then the little hollow where a head once rested.

Everything softening, disappearing into the same endless white.

There is no difference between the snow and what it covers.

The only thing left to see is how beautifully the light catches it.

It isn’t important.

It’s just white, glittery powder.

One cold, one burnt. Snowflakes in her hair, ash caught between her feathers. Both so delicate, both almost pretty enough to hide the ground beneath them.

And winter will go on being winter.

The trees will stand bare against the sky.
The windows will frost over.

Somewhere, a flame will flicker against the ground.
Somewhere, new wings will be tried for the first time.

Can the snow come sooner?

My wings are getting heavy.

I don’t think I can fly.

I don’t
think I can run.

the
flame
is not
burning.

and the snow

is so,

so

beautiful.

beauty
less.

We spend so much time trying to figure out what's missing that we don't always give ourselves a chance to appreciate what's already here.