Curate, connect, and discover
If I loved too loudly — forgive me. If I stayed too long in the corners of your mind where you never invited me, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to love politely. I don’t know how to knock first before entering hearts. I only know how to arrive barefoot, with poems under my tongue, with eternity in my palms, with the kind of tenderness that burns more than it soothes. I only know how to stay until the walls crumble, until secrets spill soft in the dark, until skin forgets every name except mine. I apologize for loving like wildfire — but darling, no one ever taught me how to be rain. So I set myself on fire and called it devotion. And maybe that’s why people ran even when they swore they wouldn’t. Because no one wants to be loved so much it makes them see themselves naked. Not just skin — but soul, bone, all the hidden places they buried long ago. I wasn’t here to break you. I was just here to love you completely. But sometimes even that is too much.