Midnight Letters - Extended Poems

I loved you in silence,
in echoes, in rain,
in laughter I swallowed,
in soft, endless pain.
I loved you in glances that burned through the air,
in all of the moments you weren’t even there.
I loved you in whispers to gods up above,
I loved you too deeply, I loved you with love.
So if in the future our fates intertwine,
I’ll smile at the moment you finally are mine.
And if that day never was meant to arrive,
my love will still live—it will keep me alive.
I loved the way light caught the edge of your hair,
how your laugh could split the weight of despair.
And god, she’s beautiful, more than words could contain,
like the sun sneaking in after a long, endless rain.
I loved every heartbeat that dared to be yours,
every quiet moment my soul quietly adores.
Even if the world never sees what I see,
my love will remain—wild, endless, free.

The pain that coursed through my veins,
When you smiled at her — Like she was worth my place, my name?
Did you know how I felt, When you turned her way?
My best friend, you know — Not for long, anyway.
Did you know when I saw your name?
The heartache I was fed, How I cried in the dark,
Always wishing it was me next to you on your bed.

And then he smiles, a real smile,
It lingers, dangerous, sweet, and vile.
I fear he might be able to rival the stars,
Breaking heavens, shattering scars.
When his eyes find mine, the world halts still,
A storm in silence, a bending will.
Every glance is a curse, a fire, a plea,
He ruins me.
The moonlight bends to kiss his face,
The night itself envies his grace.
And I wonder, is it cruelty or fate,
To crave a love that devastates?
His laughter drips like a daggered song,
A melody haunting, aching, wrong.
I whisper his name like a prayer to the void,
Addicted, consumed, forever destroyed.
His voice is thunder, velvet, flame,
It carves through my chest when he says my name.
And I’d bleed, and I’d burn, and I’d tear myself through,
For the singular chance of he might want me too.
The stars look dull when he walks near,
Even the sun feels small with him here.
I think the cosmos made him of sin,
A weapon, a wonder, a war I can’t win.
And then he turns—his shadow burns,
The universe cracks, the cosmos yearns.
For in his presence, gods lose their crowns,
The heavens collapse, the stars fall down.
If he touched my hand, the sky would weep,
The oceans would break, the earth would bleed.
And yet, I’d smile, I’d beg, I’d fall,
For one fleeting moment, I’d risk it all.
The darkness bends wherever he goes,
He is the thorn dressed up as a rose.
And still, I follow, still, I ache,
For love that kills is love I’ll take.
And then he smiles, a cruel delight,
A flame too bright for endless night.
I fear he might be able to rival the stars,
For galaxies tremble in hands like ours.
And when he leaves, the silence screams,
I drown, I burn, I break in dreams.
But oh—if he ever truly looked my way,
The universe itself would kneel and stay.

He stands where shadows cling to bone,
A kingdom of ruin, a crown of stone.
His touch is poison, his kiss—divine,
And still I whisper, make him mine.
He is the dagger dressed as desire,
The spark that ignites forbidden fire.
Every step closer, I’m torn apart,
And yet he carves his name on my heart.
A liar, a savior, a wolf in disguise,
Truth drips like venom from silvered lies.
But I drink it down, I’d drink it all,
For the chance to burn, for the chance to fall.
He is the tether I cannot sever,
The cruelest curse I’ll crave forever.
And when he smiles, the world forgets,
Every wound, every scar, every debt.
"I’d break the stars if you asked me to,
I’d slit the sky just to be with you.
For kingdoms crumble and gods will weep,
But your name is the secret my soul will keep."
He is storm, he is ruin, he is sin,
The war I am destined never to win.
And still I choose him, again, again—
The dagger, the demon, the beautiful pain.
For love like this does not forgive,
It devours, destroys, yet teaches to live.
And though it shatters, though it scars,
I swear he was born to rival the stars.

It wasn’t supposed to mean this much,
just cloth, just air, just cotton blue.
But now it holds a fragile hush,
and worse—it smells like you.
I fold it close like folded time,
like maybe warmth can stitch you back.
But all it does is blur the line
between what’s real and what I lack.
Does love hurt, but in the best way? Yes.
Do I keep going, even if I ache all day? Yes.
Would I trade this pain for forgetting your name? Yes.
Would I stop wearing this hoodie if it meant losing the flame? No.
Because it’s the only piece of you I get to hold.
The closest I’ll ever come to your heartbeat brushing mine.
And even if it smells like memories I can’t rewind—
I wear it. Again. And again. Until it smells like me instead.

I wonder if you’d even care,
if you knew what your silence became.
Would you smile if I wasn’t there—
or would you whisper my name?
I want to ask you all the things
I only let myself ask at night:
Did you ever feel that spark sting?
Did I ever feel right?
Did your heart skip when mine was near? Yes.
Did you look at me like I was someone clear? Yes.
Would you choose me again if time rewound? Yes.
Would you say it out loud while I’m still around? No.
So I stay quiet.
Let the hoodie speak instead.
Because it still holds you gently—
even when you forget.

She laughs, the sunlight in her hair,
and I feel a fire I can’t repair.
His glance drifts her way, so sly,
and my chest tightens, I can’t lie.
I bite my lip, my thoughts collide,
why can’t it be me at his side?
She’s golden, flawless, bright,
but my love for him burns hotter tonight.
Each joke, each word, each careless touch,
I ache a little, maybe too much.
Yet even in this green-eyed flame,
it’s only him I whisper, call his name.

I catch myself thinking of him at the oddest times—
in the middle of a laugh, in the quiet of a class,
when a song plays that reminds me of him,
or even when nothing at all happens and my mind drifts anyway.
I tell myself I don’t care, that feelings fade,
that the heart learns to move on.
But it doesn’t, not really.
He lingers in glances, in words unsaid,
in the warmth I feel when he smiles,
even if it’s just at something small that I wasn’t a part of.
I notice him in the way he moves,
how he tilts his head when he’s thinking,
the little smirk that makes me want to fold without warning.
I hate that I notice it, hate that it hurts a little,
but love that it’s him, him, him—always him.
And sometimes I imagine what it would be like
if he only knew how much space he occupies in my head.
Would he laugh? Would he tease me?
Or would he fold me into a look that says exactly what I’ve never been able to?
I watch, I wait, I fold, even if it’s just in secret,
even if no one else can see.
And yes, sometimes it stings to see him notice someone else,
hear someone else laugh at his jokes,
or catch that light in his eyes meant for anyone but me.
And fck, he’s beautiful—
the way the sun would be if it had a pulse,
if it could smile, if it could make me ache with just a glance.
I tell myself it’s nothing, that these feelings are childish,
but the truth is I’ve loved him in silence, in bursts, in every tiny second,
and I still do— even when I try not to, even when it hurts,
even when the world keeps moving and he doesn’t notice.
I don’t know if I’ll ever say it out loud, if I’ll ever let him know,
but the heart doesn’t ask permission, and mine has been his for far too long to pretend otherwise.
Always him. Always.

we used to laugh until the stars would fade,
now silence hums where warmth once stayed.
your name still burns behind my lips,
a ghost i taste in quiet slips.
i held your gaze like fragile glass,
pretending time would never pass.
but clocks don’t care, and hearts still break,
and love’s a wound we learn to fake.
you drifted first — i watched you go,
like tides that leave, but never show
the ache they cause upon the sand,
or how it hurts to lose your hand.
the texts grew short, the nights grew long,
and every song felt our old song.
you said “it’s fine,” i said “okay,”
but both our hearts had slipped away.
and now i live in in-betweens,
of shattered hopes and quiet dreams.
the space you left is sharp and wide—
grief lives where love refused to hide.