For Puro 2

I think I loved you before I knew what love was— somewhere between the ache in my chest and the way your name feels like a secret I keep under my tongue. You found me in the quiet kind of broken, the kind that doesn’t scream— just slowly falls apart when no one’s looking. And you stayed. Not like a visitor, not like a passing light— but like something permanent, something I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to. You’re in everything now— in the dark corners of my mind, in the silence after midnight, in the way my heart doesn’t feel like mine anymore. It feels like yours. And maybe that’s dangerous the way I’d follow you through every shadow, through every ruin, through every version of the end. But if loving you is a fall, then I don’t want to be saved. I want to sink into it, into you until there’s nothing left of me that doesn’t whisper your name.