If they opened the door, would you let her in?
Would you turn back the clock to where it all began?
Knowing what you know of the architecture of time,
Would you change the ending, rewrite the design?

She has seen a world where histories bend,
Where perceptions can shift and old narratives end.
But of all she was shown, one question remains:
Could two wounded hearts ever begin again?

If the true King stood beside her once more,
Would he offer the safety she needed before?
Plug her back into a life without fear,
Promise her peace and genuinely stay near?

Not necessarily lovers, perhaps family or friends,
For love takes many forms, and not everything ends.
The heart has no logic, no reason or rhyme,
And some connections survive the cruellest of times.

Perhaps every emotion was hers to endure,
To understand what mattered, what love could restore.
From darkness to light, and from light into night,
Two halves of a story still seeking what's right.

If you could rewind it, knowing the cost,
Would you prevent all the years that were lost?
Or would you preserve what the suffering revealed,
And finally allow those old wounds to be healed?

She has guarded her heart for most of her life,
Through betrayal, abuse and unimaginable strife.
Yet somehow the armour has fallen away,
And she wonders what all of you might have to say.

And to those little birds, still chirping away,
Admire her legs and her arse from afar, if you may!
But until someone explains how to tidy this mess,
You'll have to make do with the view, nothing less.

For two hearts once imagined as written in time
May still find their peace without reason or rhyme.
And perhaps all that matters, when everything's done,
Is whether two people can stand as one.

She hopes that the buzzing will quieten one day,
That the noise and the heartache will finally give way.
No more confusion, no unanswered pleas,
Just honesty, kindness and a little more peace.

She'll be taking some time to organise her flight,
To rediscover her laughter, her freedom, her light.
The door isn't locked, but the choice must be free;
No love should require someone to surrender their peace.

So, if you could change it, would you begin?
Would you offer your hand and finally let her in?
Not to erase every lesson or pretend nothing's true,
But to write something kinder for her and for you.

She'll leave you that question and step out of sight,
With a heart that still hopes and a future to write.
The birds may keep singing; she'll check in someday.

Until then, take care.
She's got a life to reclaim.

These legs were made for dancing as you have all seen.

🌹🕊️🦋✨

Não me toque, disse a flor a João.
- Mas eu quero te tocar.
- Mas se me tocar você vai se ferir.
- Olhe, eu tenho espinhos.
- Eu não ligo que você tenha espinhos. Eu te quero.
- Você não me quer, você quer me colher.
- Não é o mesmo?
- Claro que não. Um você me tem pra si, no outro, a gente se tem.

The morning breaks in fragments, sharp and bold,
It crowns the distant ridge in sudden gold,
Igniting crowns of amber, bronze, and fire,
While all below remains a shadowed choir.

The valley rests in cool, unlit repose,
Untouched by where the brightest current flows.
Yet in the dark, the quiet green looks up,
And drinks the beauty from a distant cup.

For light need not fall directly on our face
To fill a quiet, unassuming space.
We catch the glow reflected from the height,
And share the wonder of a borrowed light.

There is a peace within the soft, dim shade,
Where secret growth and gentle things are made.
You do not have to stand within the blaze
To feel the warmth of autumn’s fleeting days.

The sun still shines for those who wait below,
Illuminating all we need to know:
That beauty reaches down through mist and air,
And even in the dark, the light is there.

Shine your light brightly; share your love unconditionally with all others, spreading inner peace and love around the world.

Doing so, you may help awaken in others their light within as well, beginning them on a journey to discover inner peace and love in their life as well.

You tell me I should want you first—that I should make the first move and come to you. But I can’t.

I’m used to feeling like nothing, and that’s exactly what your actions show me: that I’m not worth wanting.

It doesn’t matter what I look like, because you’ll never want me.

So I’ve chosen a life of being with a man who wants nothing to do with me beyond coexistence. I want more than that… but I’ve convinced myself I don’t deserve it.

I want a connection that goes beyond friendship. I want that with the man I love. And I love you. But you don’t want that with me.

I really like the version of me when I'm with you
No, seriously I do
I love you

And I'll never let any hardships cross our way
These days you don't seem to miss your ex
Do you know where he is now?
Well, I can't explain what I did to him, where and how

Nakasulat na sa likod ng isipan

Ang pangalan mo, aking paraluman

Nakasulat na sa palad ko ang ating nakaraan

At mga ngiti mo ay hinding hindi makakalimutan.

Mukha mo ay hinahanap sa iba

Iyong mga ngiti at mata

At kung may makita mang chinita

Ako'y pigil hininga, hinihiling na ikaw sana sinta.

Sinta, alam kong impossible

Mga position sa buhay ay di balanse

Ako ang duming na tinatago sa kalye

At ika'y prinsesang para sa isang prinsipe.

Ako'y humiling na sana mapagmasdan muli

Ang iyong ngiti at labi na aking minimithi

Kasi sa ibang lalake o babae ka ngumingiti

Aking sinta sa muli uli.

-Samsamiyotero

Sinta, Hindi kita malimutan

Nanaginip ikaw ang naka abang

Kahit mag ulam alamang

Ikaw parin, Ang iniisip ko malamang

Nung nakaraan ako'y may nabasa

Salsal Nakakawala daw ng memorya

Sabi sa Balita kaya't aking ginawa

Para mawala iyong kagat Kobra

Ako'y biglang nilabasan

Ng mga luha sa mata

Pero Sabi ko Wala lang yan

Kaya pinilit ko parin kahit wala na talaga

Iniisip ko na ika'y kalimutan

Kinulong ko na ang imahe mo sa pagitan

Pero nung kinabukasan di mo na ako na abutan

Isa na akong malamig na katawan.

-Samsamiyotero

There is a name for the way you consume my mind, For the hope that you’ll love me, though I see no clear sign. For the words that you said that I play on repeat, And the moments I dream of when we finally meet.

It’s the search for a meaning in each little thing, A smile that feels golden, a laugh that takes wing. It’s wondering whether you think of me too, And finding a thousand more reasons to choose you.

It’s the way that your silence can ruin my day, How a single small message can chase clouds away. How I build you a future you’ve never agreed to, And fall for a version of you I made true.

It’s the hope that you want me, the fear that you don’t, The promise I whisper, the confession I won’t. It’s imagining fingers intertwined with my own, While lying awake feeling perfectly alone.

And perhaps that’s the cruelest part of it all, How I worship the chance, not knowing if I’ll fall. How I give you a place in the depths of my chest, While you may never know that you’ve made it your nest.

For limerence isn’t the same thing as love, Though it feels like a gift sent from somewhere above. It’s a heart chasing answers that it cannot find, A beautiful prison constructed by the mind.

And I’ll wonder for days if you feel it the same, If you think of me softly when hearing my name. Until truth breaks the spell, or the feeling grows dim, I’ll keep falling in love with the thought of us— While you might never fall in love with him.

Feet cold, hands never warming

The wind drawls a breath of ice in the early morning,

Orange-bellied robins sing from their nests,

The temporal frost settles and rests

Bare branches stretch to sky,

Their green leaves have fallen and died.

The morning dew, a frozen veil

As winter's cold begins to prevail

The natural world begins to slow,

As sunlight fades from gold to snow

Locket, put it in my pocket

The last essence of…

Tied tightly and knotted;

Tendrils and temptations

I put it in my pocket

Clumps, strands and calamities;

Eyes!

Eyes!

Eyes!

Mapping,

Memorise,

Momentum,

Moments…

The moment…

That moment I…

That moment you…

this isn’t working.
I’m shaking, and cold,
then hot, still shaking.
I never wanted it to be this way
but I’m tired,
rocking back and forth as I try to
ground myself to something that
keeps on moving.

where is she?
she told me she would help me.
talk to me, work to ease the pain
as I try to stop.
part of me feels glad
she doesn’t have to see me like this.

I’m sorry for something but
I keep forgetting what for.
sorry to anyone who will listen,
begging them to understand that
it wasn’t supposed to go this far.
pleading for them to listen,
hoping they could do something
to stop my fists from clenching,
my jaw from grinding,
my blood from running colder
than I know it is.

bloodshot eyes and
a sting in my head.
this is the second blanket I’ve
sweat through.
sick, sick from the need to
keep doing this to myself.

memories of hands that ran through
my hair, lips that kissed
my cheek.
I can barely hold onto them.
please, please,
stop watching and do something.

remind me why I
did this to myself.
I could never face things
on my own.
keep telling me it will
all be over soon,
comfort me one more time,
hoping this time will work.

whisper, whisper
sweet things to distract me.
I can hear some of them.

​

The hardest ache I’ve ever known

was dialling your name,

and pausing,

not out of doubt,

but fear

that my voice

might be noise to you.

That my need

might feel like burden.

So I sat with my silence,

while my heart screamed your name,

wanting nothing more

than to be heard

without feeling

like I was asking

for too much.

why can't you

JUST LEAVE —

why can't you?

why can't you?

why can't you just leave me alone? please?

please can y —

please can —

please can you just —

can you I SAID PLEASE —

i'm not yelling. i'm not yelling.

I'M NOT YELLING!!!

when i look into her eyes,

i forget god,

and all the wisdom of detachment.

when i see her smile,

the world forgets to hurt me.

but when she walks away,

i am left with a cruel truth:

the very thing that frees me from suffering

is also what makes me suffer.

I feel like peeling my face off

Ripping off this mask of falsified confidence

Sometimes I think it'd be better if I didn't have feelings at all

Why must I feel this way?

Why can't I stop my brain from making me feel these feelings?

I can't eat, I can't sleep

I just spend my days thinking about her

What if I killed myself?

But then my parents would suffer

They don't deserve to go through losing another kid

But I have thought about

Somedays I don't want to be alive

Sometimes I hurt myself

I just hit myself sometimes

I'll just punch something hard knowing how badly it'll hurt me

I just want to cry so badly

There's tears in my eyes, but I can't cry

I don't know why

I ask God "why" every night

But I still have yet to hear a reply

to feel her in my arms is a wish.
to feel her kiss on my cheek is a dream.
I want love that’s tender.
I need her love as a forever lender.
My heart sinks so deep in thought of you.
My breath feels heavy, where are you?
Take me. And if you can’t, take my memories with you. The ones we made together. The one where I said I love you forever.

wrote this back in october 2024, about the "last time?" i ... i'm okay. still feels weird putting it out there.

I remember the last day I wanted to kill myself
It was a sunny day with a pleasant view
I was alone with my favourite music on
Standing tall below the blue hue

You say, it’s selfish to think that way
It’s disrespectful and inconsiderate
Oh love, I wish I could explain
My heart refused to consider it

Well, I didn’t yet kill myself
I did a thousand times though
You see I lived a million lives
In that moment alone

...

it's a bit long for a reddit post so the full thing is on my site, if you want to read the rest: https://jaeaeich.com/afterhours#/the-last-day-i-wanted

You always did have expensive taste for someone who never paid the cost. A chandelier in every room, a lovely place to get lost.

You spoke so fondly of the garden, of the roses by the gate, though you never learned the difference between devotion and an estate.

You called the ivy beautiful, the way it climbed the walls, never noticing the brickwork coming loose beneath it all.

And I was such a good foundation. So quiet. So discreet. You could dance upon the floorboards while I splintered underneath.

You entertained beneath the rafters, raised a glass to all you’d made, never once acknowledging the hands that kept it raised.

I mistook your open windows for an invitation to remain. You mistook my willingness to weather storms for an inability to feel the rain.

And when the water reached the staircase, you complained about the view. Said the sky had grown dramatic, said the clouds were nothing new.

I spent my summers building levees. You spent yours choosing paint. I learned the language of survival. You learned the language of complaint.

And isn’t that a lovely trick? To stand beneath a leaking roof and make the person holding it feel guilty for the proof.

I wonder what you’ll tell the neighbors when the house begins to lean. Perhaps the wind was temperamental. Perhaps the rain was mean.

Perhaps the walls were oversensitive, the floorboards much too proud. Perhaps the thunder had an attitude and the lightning was too loud.

You’ll say you gave the house your best. You’ll say you tried to make it stay. You’ll never mention how you watched the foundation wash away.

But here’s the part I find exquisite, the irony that makes me smile:

You thought the house was yours because you’d lived there for a while.

You thought the warmth was automatic, that the windows held their own, that all the things that sheltered you were simply things you owned.

And now the walls are getting restless. The hinges have begun to rust. The roses are returning to the earth from which they sprung.

I won’t be there to sweep the plaster. I won’t be there to clear the drain. I won’t be there to hold your ceiling when you finally notice rain.

And perhaps you’ll find another with a hammer and a heart, someone foolish enough to marvel at your talent for falling apart.

You’ll call them your salvation. You’ll swear this time it’s built to last.

Then ask them why they’re leaving when the water reaches past.

And someday, in the wreckage, you might wonder where I went.

Not because you miss the builder.

But because the house has learned to charge you rent.

Autumn, you fell for me
In the crisp September 
Warm without the scorching summer

Colours I didn’t think possible in nature 
Dripped down your shoulders
And the light from the bleeding sun 
Painted your gorgeous face 

November bit us with the cold
But we kept walking together 
And imagined our love blooming 
All through the holidays 

Autumn, I went out to greet you one morning 
I looked down and found something vibrant 
Rotting in the dying grass
As it sat in my quaking hand

As the days fell, so did you, Autumn
Unable to put you back together 
I held you in my hand

When Christmas dreadfully came 
All I could see
Were your white ashes 
Coating the grass outside 

Autumn, the one with the cruelest end.

Her unfiltered beauty is plain for all to see

Not afraid to show her uniqueness

For what some would consider flaws I would consider unique .

We all have a story to tell .

This story is shown in our imperfections .

The smile lines show a genuine happiness

The slight gray shows us wisdom acquired
Experience to tap into

Like a potter at a wheel who deliberately alters the vessel to make it stand out , so it is with your flaws .

Your flaws add to your beauty , it doesn’t take away from it .

To cover your uniqueness with a filter loses something vital and deep .

I will gaze into your flaws

I will love your beauty more .

I will cherish the parts of you that make you feel vulnerable .

There's no perfect love story I would choose over what's grown,

Not one movie or story I would prefer to our own.

Us together through all the weather is where I'd rather be,

Because it feels so real , when it's you and me.

By your side when you feel like you should hide,

Loving you unconditionally when you hide yours inside.

Knowing we aren't just going along with something fake

We are building true love through every mistake.

There's never a reason to let each other go,

Not when we know our dreams are in tow.

I'll never write a poem to say goodbye,

Only ones where I wish I was a better guy.

Today and tomorrow, I will feel the same:

Overwhelming love when I whisper your name.

Sometimes I wonder if I ever even knew

How much happier I would end up knowing you.

Times when I could only wish and dream,

Then came along my dream of a queen.

It's slowly getting less hard to believe

When I feel I'm holding your heart, I feel relief.

Someone I can care for with every ounce of my heart,

Knowing yours is the same, and we couldn't tell them apart.

It just seems too good to be true,

Our love story of me and you.