amore ♡ midnight witch

my poems

In the chapel where the candles bleed, I trace old names I dare not read. Salt on the floor, ash on my skin, A circle drawn to cage the sin. The bells don’t ring, they moan in grief, As prayers decay between my teeth. I kneel where saints were left to rot, And worship truths the world forgot. Incense coils like serpent breath, A sweet perfume of love and death. I cut the silence, slow and deep, To wake the gods that never sleep. Hands entwined with bone and thread, I crown my fears and call them “fed.” The moon looks down, a hollow eye, As vows are sworn that cannot die. No heaven listens. No hell replies. Only shadows learn my cries. And in this rite, both cursed and true, I’m reborn in black, unmade, renewed.

I did not fall in love with her eyes, nor the way her lips learned my name. It was the hush beneath her skin that taught my heart how to ache. I loved the pulse before the smile, the crimson hymn in quiet veins, the way her life whispered closer when the world fell still in pain. Her blood was not just warmth or sin, but memory, promise, and curse. a sacred ink the body writes when love decides to thirst. I traced devotion, not her form, but what escaped when flesh gave way; I worshipped what she carried inside, not what she chose to say. For she could leave, forget, decay. but blood remembers every kiss. And even when her name is dust, its taste will call me back to this. So let them say I loved her wrong, that hearts are meant for softer art. I loved the truth beneath her skin. the red confession of her heart.