My Vow To You

There’s a woman who has touched my heart,

In ways I never thought it could start.

Her laughter, a balm to my weary soul,

Her presence, a light making me whole.

She’s stirred feelings deep and true,

Emotions vivid, vibrant, and new.

In her eyes, I see the pain she hides,

The silent tears, the countless tides.

Yet she’s tormented by a cruel man’s hand,

Mental scars and bruises that expand.

Vows defiled, trust shattered and torn,

Leaving her weary, tired, and worn.

She’s endured storms, harsh and fierce,

Her spirit battered, her heart pierced.

By words that cut, by fists that rage,

Locked in a cruel, unyielding cage.

All I desire is her purest joy,

To shield her from pain, to destroy

The anger, the hurt, the broken cries,

To wipe the tears from her saddened eyes.

Given a chance, she’d know no fear,

No anger, no heartbreak, no jeer.

I dream of days filled with her laughter,

Of nights where love is all we’re after.

I vow to protect, to cherish, to be

The guardian she deserves, eternally.

With every breath, with all my might,

I’ll be her shield, her guiding light.

For she’s the woman who touched my soul,

And in her happiness, I find my goal.

I’ll stand by her, through thick and thin,

To mend the wounds that lie within.

Her past may be dark, her present strained,

But in my arms, she’ll find love unfeigned.

No more will she know the bitter taste

Of broken trust, of time laid waste.

Together we’ll walk, hand in hand,

Building a life, a love that will withstand

The trials, the storms, the endless night,

For in our hearts, we’ll find the light.

I vow to cherish her, come what may,

To love her deeply, day by day.

For she’s the woman who’s touched my heart,

And with her, I’ll never be apart.

I will not conform

Well, I didn't see this coming. Or did I? Maybe I just didn't want to admit it. I've realized society as a whole has lost its luster with me. I've made so many attempts to try to help people when I didn't have to. It's because I think people need help when they're being taken advantage of or when they're being done wrong.

This past Christmas season, countless numbers of people's identities were being stolen. I'm talking over 10,000 identities, and I tried to get it taken care of. I tried to let the authorities know; I even called banks. No one would return my calls. So, I took it upon myself to start calling the people on the list to warn them and was met with hate and discontent.

Even lately, there's a gentleman I know who got blamed for some stuff he didn't do. I know the people that blamed him, and I know for a fact they set him up to take the fall. I've notified his family through another pen name that I use, and none of them care. None of them stepped up to the plate to help him simply because he's an addict.

I've fed countless people. I've tried to take blankets and jackets to them in the cold. I've given the last dime in my pocket, and yet I'm persecuted for trying to be kind to my ex-girlfriend. All the dialectical behavior therapy, all the counseling sessions, all the sessions with my psychiatrist, all the medications... Yeah, I'm stronger in my head, more resilient to the torrents and stuff that life throws at me day to day.

Now, I'm okay with being alone because I like myself, and I know I deserve better than what I've been getting. But people suck. My brain tells me to just end it, shut it down, be done with it because I'll never fit into society. I can't be like society is. I can't take advantage, I can't hurt people, I can't take from them. Why does life have to be this way?

A Broken World

In a world that feels so cold and gray,

I've searched for a place where I can stay.

But kindness and joy seem far away,

And hope fades with each passing day.

Where do I go from this point of despair?

When all around me seems so unfair.

Broken and bruised, beyond repair,

I wonder if anyone truly cares.

Families once close, now torn apart,

Leaving behind aching hearts.

Friendships that once felt like art,

Now shattered, tearing me apart.

And love, oh love, a complex game,

Full of promises that end in shame.

I'm lost in a world that's lost its flame,

Wondering if anything will ever be the same.

Brighter Days

In years that passed, my heart was weighed down,  

With pain that seemed endless, drowning in frowns.  

My spirit was shattered, hope had waned,  

Lost in a storm where sorrow reigned.  

Counseling, therapy, night and day,  

The only things that kept darkness at bay.  

Then came a moment when shadows gave way,  

And I saw in the mirror a brighter display.  

Once, my reflection was empty and bleak,  

Eyes full of despair, my spirit was weak.  

But now they gleam with joy anew,  

For I cherish the man whose face I view.  

No longer afraid to stand alone,  

To seek joy within, not needing a throne.  

You thought you'd break me, drown me in pain,  

But it passed like a fierce summer rain.  

Short, yet intense, but here I stand tall,  

Proud of the person who's endured it all.  

I'm glad you’re distant, I'm glad you’re away,  

You never belonged in my life anyway.  

You called when my self-esteem was low,  

Settling for garbage, not knowing to say no.  

But now that junk is where it belongs,  

And you can kiss my rump as I sing my song.

A Friend, Indeed!

In days of dread and gloom, the world seemed to fall,

Amidst whispers of plague, with hearts in a thrall.

I found solace in a friend, unique in their glow,

But for reasons unclear, our bond would ebb and flow.

Yet when you needed refuge, my door opened wide,

A shoulder to lean on, in sorrow abide.

My heart was shattered, needing time to mend,

In your warmth, I sought the solace of a friend.

But distance grew cold, like a task I'd become,

Until the veil lifted and revealed what you'd done.

Your whispers spread lies, sowing seeds of doubt,

Searching for ghosts that never came about.

You craved a car, and a sculpted face,

Your hints were loud in this twisted chase.

But when I questioned, you didn’t defend,

Exposed, and distant, to what bitter end?

One day you'll seek a friend, with acceptance to share,

No judgment, no masks, but love laid bare.

You once were a friend, but now, it's plain to see,

You’ve become a stranger, who means nothing to me.

What Is It About Me?

Dear Journal,

It's been a while since I last wrote. I find myself turning to these pages mostly in times of need or to unpack my emotions, which seems to be the very purpose of you, my old friend. Today, I feel the sting of what feels like ultimate betrayal. Someone I welcomed into my home has been spreading vile rumors about me, rumors so cruel and unfounded that they border on the unforgivable.

What is it about me, or people like me, that attracts such deceit? I'm certain I'm not alone in this. There are kind-hearted people out there, those who genuinely care and would never harm a soul—people who extend their help without hesitation. Yet, despite opening my home, my pantry, and even my wallet repeatedly, the reciprocity is seldom seen. It's rare, but those few who have reciprocated, I am eternally grateful to. Their kindness brings tears to my eyes.

But why do some choose to weave lies? Why exert such effort to tarnish another's name or to elevate their own status? Humanity bewilders me; it seems that finding genuine, good people is becoming a rare treasure hunt. Or perhaps this is a reflection of my own choices—settling for those I deemed unworthy because I didn't see my own worth.

I've realized that this pattern of settling wasn't confined to my personal life but extended to my professional life as well. I accepted whatever job was offered, grateful yet unfulfilled. Similarly, I've let women into my life whom I would normally greet with nothing more than a polite nod. Yet, I gave them my heart. I extended my friendship and my home to those who didn't deserve it, and now, I am left a broken shell.

Will I ever find someone who loves as deeply as I do? Will I be cherished as I cherish others? Will I find a friend as loyal as I have been? These questions weigh heavily on my heart as I strive to understand the complexities of human nature and relationships.

With a heavy heart,

Curtis

Psychological Profile

Psychological Profile

Client Name: Curtis Wheat (Born November 2nd, 1970)

Background:

Curtis Wheat is a 53-year-old male with a rich and varied life experience. Born into a military family, he followed in his family's footsteps and enlisted in the United States Army airborne infantry, fulfilling his childhood dream of jumping out of airplanes and serving his country with dedication and honor. However, his time in the military was marred by a traumatic event in 1988, which left him with deep emotional scars and ultimately led to a diagnosis of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) in 2015.

Professional History:

After leaving the military, Curtis pursued a career as a packaging engineer, demonstrating remarkable skill and attention to detail in his work. For two decades, he poured his energy into his profession, finding solace in the structure and routine it provided. However, his mental health challenges, compounded by personal difficulties, eventually took their toll, leading to a hiatus from his career.

Personal Achievements:

On the personal side, Curtis Wheat has successfully raised five children, instilling in them the values of perseverance, integrity, and service to others. All of his children have either gone to college or are currently serving in the United States Marine Corps, a testament to Curtis's dedication as a father and role model. Notably, one of his children serves under the President on his Presidential helicopter squadron, a source of immense pride for Curtis and his family.

Additionally, for the last 15 years, Curtis has owned and maintained a ministry called Ground Up Ministries. This ministry tirelessly ministers to, feeds, and helps clothe the homeless in Tarrant County, Texas. It operates as a fully self-supporting ministry, mostly financed by Curtis himself. His commitment to serving those in need reflects his compassionate nature and deep-rooted desire to make a positive impact on his community.

Challenges:

Throughout his life, Curtis has faced a series of challenges that have tested his resilience and perseverance. As a child, he endured the trauma of victimization by a neighbor, leaving lasting psychological wounds. The horrors witnessed during his military service compounded this trauma, leading to recurring nightmares, hypervigilance, and emotional numbness characteristic of PTSD.

Recent Events:

In January 2023, Curtis found himself embroiled in a tumultuous relationship with his ex-girlfriend, Antonella Spisso. Antonella's attempts to manipulate him into a fraudulent marriage for immigration purposes shattered his trust and left him feeling betrayed. Matters escalated when Curtis discovered her infidelity, triggering false accusations of domestic violence and eventually leading to his arrest for stalking in January 2024. Despite legal reassurances that the charges will be dismissed, the ordeal has exacerbated Curtis's mental health struggles and left him feeling isolated and misunderstood.

Current Mental State:

Curtis is currently grappling with a myriad of complex emotions, ranging from anger and resentment to profound sadness and despair. His sense of self has been shaken to its core, and he struggles to make sense of the chaos unfolding around him. Despite his best efforts to remain composed, the constant barrage of negative thoughts and intrusive memories has left him feeling exhausted and overwhelmed. He yearns for a sense of closure and justice but fears the lingering repercussions of Antonella's deceit.

Impact of PTSD:

Due to his experiences with PTSD, Curtis describes himself as a very passive person, often prioritizing the feelings of others over his own well-being. He finds it challenging to assert himself, even in situations where doing so would be in his best interest. This tendency to avoid conflict stems from a deep-seated fear of upsetting others, which he believes is rooted in his military trauma.

Recommendations:

Given the severity of Curtis's mental health challenges and the complexity of his current situation, it is imperative that he receives comprehensive support and intervention. Therapy, specifically tailored to address his PTSD and Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), will be instrumental in helping him process his trauma and develop healthier coping mechanisms. Additionally, ongoing legal advocacy and support are crucial to ensure his rights are protected and justice is served.

Encouraging Curtis to engage in self-care practices, such as mindfulness meditation, journaling, and regular exercise, will also be beneficial in promoting his overall well-being. Building a strong support network of trusted friends, family members, and mental health professionals will provide him with the reassurance and validation he desperately needs during this challenging time.

Conclusion:

Curtis Wheat is a resilient individual who has weathered numerous storms throughout his life. Despite the overwhelming obstacles he faces, he continues to demonstrate courage and tenacity in the face of adversity. With the appropriate support and intervention, there is hope for Curtis to emerge from this ordeal stronger and more resilient than ever before. It is essential that he receives the care and compassion he deserves as he navigates the path toward healing and recovery.

Eternal Entwinement

My love, unyielding, stretches through the expanse of time,Unchanged, unwavering—whole in its prime.

Our souls, entwined like threads in life's grand tapestry,

Bound in an embrace that fate refuses to set free.

I’ve grappled with the shadows, feverishly tried to sever,The cords that bind us deeply, yet should part us never.In each attempt to untangle, I find my spirit torn,

By the sweet reminiscence of the bond we've worn.

Lost in this turmoil, no solace takes shape,

My heart—a vessel of love it cannot escape.

The echo of your essence, like a ghostly serenade,

Haunts the quiet moments, in the daylight and the shade.

Destined for this misery, a curse I wear as my own,

A king upon a throne of thorns, in a kingdom overthrown.Yet, in this realm of sorrow, where my tears have lain,Know my love for you, my dear, forever will remain.

Another Day

Dear Journal,

Today feels like another one of those down days. I tried to unwind last night, watching some movies, but it's tough. Every mention of family, children, or fathers shatters me a bit more. You'd think I'd revel in my own victories by now, but the truth is, I don't. I feel utterly worthless whenever I achieve something good and my family isn't here to share it with me.

It all seems so unjust—I'm constantly painted as the villain. And then there's this incessant court drama, a GPS on my ankle monitoring my every move, a stark reminder of how society views me. I'm trapped in this narrative that if I'm the monster everyone says I am, then I need to defeat this part of me. But if I'm not, it just proves that I'll never get a fair shot.

I've never hurt anyone, never even dreamt of causing pain to those I love dearly. Yet, here I am, feeling unnecessary...like I'm just a burden. I struggle to stand up for myself; my attempts at setting boundaries are as fleeting as lines drawn in the sand just before the tide rolls in. They're washed away, and I'm left trying to place them again, never sure of their last position.

It's a relentless cycle, Journal. On days like today, I feel lost, adrift in a sea of my own turbulent thoughts.

Why can't I stand up for myself? Why can't I set boundaries and stick to them? I understand the reasons but remain baffled by my inability to change. I've let so many destructive people into my life, fully aware of their toxic nature. That's the real tragedy—I knew they were bad for me. Yet, I can't seem to connect with the "normal" folks, the ones with their 9-to-5 jobs, who come home to their dogs and families. Instead, I find myself gravitating towards crooks, villains, addicts, and outcasts. That's where I feel I belong.

I despise myself for it. Nowadays, I'm okay with being alone because, in solitude, I can work through my thoughts without interruption. I've closed my heart to others because past loves felt like mere facades. I yearn for a profound connection where both individuals are essential to each other's existence, where I'm loved for my true self and my values, not just a superficial image.

Journal, I’m frightened of what I might become. I don't want to be seen as a threat or a thief; I'm just a broken man whose stress is sending my blood pressure sky-high. Yet, I know a doctor's visit would only leave me more frustrated if they find nothing wrong. Why can't they discover a terminal illness and give me a definitive timeline? Why must others get that sort of closure while I'm doomed to possibly live a century in misery?

I guess, deep down, I'm terrified of enduring a long life filled with nothing but pain—a life where each day feels longer than the last.

Don't Turn Me

I’ve walked a lifetime on paths of thorn,  

Trauma woven, heartstrings worn.  

Never once did I strike a soul,  

Gave my all—the coin, the dole.

Offered up the shirt from my back,  

My plate of food, my humble shack.  

Aimed to shield from darkest days,  

From haunted memories that always stay.

Yet that specter looms behind,  

In twisted dreams, it binds and blinds.  

I’ve borne this cross through endless nights,  

Fleeing shadows, fleeing frights.

Now, over half a century’s toll,  

No ill will harbored, despite the hole.  

But the anger stirs, deep and fierce,  

Years of pain, layer pierced.

Inwardly, the turmoil turned,  

Self-inflicted, while justice yearned.  

And here you are, taking my voice,  

Judging without cause, without a choice.

Silenced by your cold decree,  

Blinded to the truth of me.  

Refusing to become your beast,  

Against your chains, I shall resist.

Beneath the calm, a tempest lies,  

A dark desire that never dies.  

Why awaken this dormant beast?  

Why stir the specter from its feast?

Must you paint me as the night?  

Must you twist me in your spite?  

Hear the whispers in the wind,  

They chant of innocence, condemned.

Look beyond the surface marred,  

See the man, not the scars.  

I am still the soul I was,  

Not your villain, not your cause.

In the echoes of my screams,  

Find the truth, not what it seems.  

Release me from this haunted plea,  

I am more than you believe me to be.

Beware the wrath of a gentle man wronged,  

With a heart that’s tired, but headstrong.  

For if the beast within awakes,  

It’s not just my soul that breaks.

A torrent of tears will surely flow,  

From seeds of wrath you carelessly sow.  

Do not push me to the brink,  

For I am closer than you think.

Temper your judgments, hold your stare,  

Lest you invoke a nightmare.  

Understand this, my solemn vow,  

I am not what you fear, not now..

You Didn't Waste Your Breath

Dad, you were my hero,  

the one who held my hand  

high above the shadows,  

to show me the promised land.  

You shared your love for the Lord,  

with words both soft and bold;  

A guiding force so powerful,  

a treasure chest of gold.  

The path was never easy,  

lined with lessons tough and true,  

Your faith a beacon, leading me,  

in everything I do.  

Then the day the heavens called you,  

my world darkened with a storm,  

I wandered lost, bereft, confused,  

from the teachings you had formed.  

Blindly I stumbled, fell,  

through days then years of strife,  

Lost the compass you had given,  

that directed all my life.  

Everything seemed shattered,  

my soul to the core was torn,  

The values you had taught me,  

from my grip were briefly worn.  

Yet, through the tempest, I remembered,  

the echoes of your voice,  

Urging me to rise again,  

to make the noble choice.  

Now here I stand, not just revived,  

but stronger than before,  

Armed with your wisdom, love, and faith,  

to open new doors.  

Your words were not in vain, Dad,  

in me, they've found their breath,  

A legacy immortal,  

defying even death.  

So no, you didn’t waste your breath,  

for in your son, you sowed  

A garden rich with hope and strength,  

where love forever grows.

A Beacon

In the silence of his solitary roam,  

A man walks heavy, the world no longer home.  

"Monster," he whispered, in self-contempt,  

For letting the world’s gaze his essence preempt.  

But as the shroud lifted, what did he see?  

Not a realm of light, but dark deceit.

He sought a pure heart, a soul so bright,  

Yet found shadows, not stars, in the endless night.  

Deceivers in cloaks, with smiles so wide,  

Took from his pocket, stood by his side.  

They stole his bread, his coat, his cheer,  

And from his chest, the love that was dear.

In the world's cruel play, he thought himself wrong,  

An outcast, a monster, where he didn't belong.  

Yet, amidst the darkness, the lies, the theft,  

He found the true monsters were those who had left  

A trail of deceit, a path so stark—  

And realized his light was a lone, brave spark.

In rhyme and rhythm, his truth unfolds,  

A tale of courage, as his heart holds.  

Not the monster he feared, but humanity’s face  

Revealed in the mirror, a challenging grace.  

In the quest for the good, the pure, the right,  

He stands alone, a beacon in the night.

A Glutton For Punishment

Dear Journal,

Here I am again, in a moment of introspection, confronting the relentless waves of my journey. It seems, in a bitter twist of irony, that I'm a glutton for punishment, endlessly entangled in a narrative I've long outgrown. Growing up under the shadow of being labeled the 'bad kid', I internalized that role, unwittingly allowing it to sculpt my path. The belief that I deserved nothing but the scraps of life became my unwelcome companion, influencing not just my self-perception but also casting a long shadow over my professional and personal realms.

In my heart, I knew the truth of my character. I navigated through life's tumult without ever willfully causing harm or taking what wasn't mine. Except for the inevitable tussles of youth—those confrontations with school bullies that almost seem a rite of passage—I've lived my life striving for kindness and integrity. And yet, even as I found myself teetering on the brink of despair, with the specter of hunger looming and the darkness of unpaid bills closing in, I was met not with compassion, but with exploitation. It's a cruel realization that, in my lowest moments, there were those who would still take and steal, lie and manipulate.

But the harshest truth I've come to face is the role I played in my own downfall. In accepting less than I deserved, in letting into my life those unworthy of my time and energy, I was complicit in my own degradation. It was as if I had laid out the welcome mat for the very elements that sought to undermine me, fueled by a deep-seated belief that this was all I was worthy of.

This journey of self-reflection is not an easy one. Yet, it's a necessary passage towards understanding and, hopefully, forgiveness—forgiveness not just for those who wronged me, but for myself. For the boy who was labeled, for the man who believed in those labels, and for the soul that yearns to break free from the chains of the past. As I pen these thoughts, it's with a heavy heart but also a glimmer of hope. Hope that in acknowledging these truths, I can forge a path forward, one where I am deserving of light, love, and respect, and where the narrative no longer holds me prisoner to a story I didn't choose.

Yours in reflection,

Curtis

Raised In Doubt

In shadows long, where whispers dwell,  

A tale of woe I’m here to tell.  

For those, born to harsh critique,  

Souls so strong, yet felt so weak.  

Raised in doubt, under watchful eyes,  

Told they're the storm, not the calm skies.  

"Why deserve the sun?" they’d say,  

"Just take the night, shun the day."  

With every fall, and every slip,  

The words would cut, they'd crack and whip.  

"Accept your lot, be glad for crumbs,"  

Echoed in dreams, in night's deep hums.  

But who decides what's deserved, what’s due?  

Is it not me? Is it not you?  

Must we accept, stay silent, compliant,  

In a world that can be cruel, defiant?  

No, for within, there’s a light that glows,  

Stronger than the deepest, darkest throes.  

Hear me, through the strife,  

You’re more than the sum of your past life.  

For every voice that said, "You're wrong,"  

Your heart beat brave, it sang its song.  

The good in life is not just earned,  

It's also found, it's also learned.  

So, rise, amidst the doubt and fear,  

Know you deserve the joy, the cheer.  

Let not the shadows claim your fate,  

For every day, a new start awaits.

The Final Chapter

Dear journal,

Today, I find myself at yet another crossroads, perhaps the most profound yet. As I pen these words, the weight of a thousand stares bears down on me, casting me not as the man I am but as a creature far removed from humanity. It's almost a bitter irony, being marked with the indelible ink of suspicion, as if I were a beast requiring constant watch. The notion that a GPS must track my every move is both ludicrous and deeply wounding. 

I've navigated the tempest of life with a principle of harm to none. My hands, though stretched wide to the skies in search of justice for the wrongs of my childhood, have never clenched in anger against another soul. I've wandered this earth guided by a light within, one that flickers with kindness, yet it seems to draw shadows closer rather than dispel them. Once, a voice whispered to me, "You're too kind for this world; it will make you its target." How prophetic those words have become.

The irony does not escape me—that in their quest to brand me, they ignore the essence of who I am. My spirit, resilient though it may be, is not impervious to the scars of such baseless condemnation. To be seen as a monster, to be hunted and marked as something vile, is a fate I cannot accept, nor can I allow their twisted vision to define my reality. I refuse to be molded into the nightmare they envisage.

So, dear journal, it is with a heavy but resolute heart that I consider parting ways with a world that seems ever eager to misjudge me. Before their relentless pursuit warps me into the very image they've conjured, I must step back, withdraw from the fray, and find solace in my decision. I am not the monster they see. I will not become their creation.

In this moment of introspection, I vow to preserve my essence, to hold fast to my integrity, and to navigate this tumult with the dignity that has been my compass thus far. The road ahead may be solitary and short, but I shall walk it with my head held high, guided by the light of my own truth.

Journal, may you be a testament to my resolve, a witness to my struggle, and a bearer of my deepest truths.

Yours in reflection,

Curtis

Dear Army

Dear United States Army,

I write to you today with a heart heavy with both gratitude and sorrow, reflecting on my journey within your ranks that has shaped the person I have become. In the beginning, you were the beacon of discipline I desperately sought, the guiding light when I was lost, and the sense of belonging I craved. You were everything I needed, offering me a place within something greater than myself, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

However, there was a day that changed everything, a moment that remains indelibly etched in my memory. A young soldier, broken and distraught, sought comfort in me, overwhelmed by the torment from his peers. With a heavy heart, I promised we would seek help from our first sergeant the next day. Tragically, that next day never came for him. Before dawn broke, he chose to end his unbearable pain, a decision made in despair right before my eyes. His decision to escape the cruelty he faced is a memory that haunts me, a stark reminder of the darkest depths of human suffering.

In the aftermath, as I grappled with the weight of what had happened, I felt myself unravel. The unyielding image of his choice as the only escape from suffering became a pervasive thought, leaving me lost in a sea of despair. During this time, when I needed support the most, I felt abandoned. The Army that had once been my foundation, my guiding light, seemed to turn away, leaving me to face the darkness alone. There was no attempt to reintegrate me with my unit, no effort made to pull me back from the edge, only the cold shoulder of an institution moving forward without me.

Now, 30-plus years later, the specter of that day continues to haunt me, not just in fleeting memories, but in vivid, relentless nightmares. Each night, I am transported back to that moment, so vivid I can still taste the blood in the air and the gunpowder mixed with the iron from the blood as if I'm reliving the event every time I wake up. The dreams are so vivid; there are times when my ears are even ringing when I wake up. Now, all these years later, I need your help, and you're still not there. I'm left with a disability that you helped foster. You failed that young soldier by letting him get picked on by his team members, and you failed me when I needed your help the most. And now, I have to struggle to get benefits that are rightly mine.

This letter is not just a reflection of my pain but also an acknowledgment of the complex relationship I have with the Army. It is a recognition of the discipline, guidance, and sense of belonging you gave me, contrasted sharply with the isolation and abandonment I felt in my darkest hour. As I navigate the path of healing, I carry both the strength and scars from my time with you, forever a part of who I am.

Sincerely,

Curtis

It's All Coming Undone

It’s been a little while. Journal or diary, whatever you are, it’s been awhile since I’ve turned to you. I find myself at a loss, feeling disconnected from this world. The thought crosses my mind more often than I’d like to admit—that if I were gone, it wouldn’t really affect anyone or anything. In my heart, I believe things might actually be better for others without me around. It’s a struggle to find where I lost my voice, to understand why what I say seems to fall on deaf ears.

This whole ordeal with stalking is draining the life out of me, and the irony is that I’m guilty of nothing more than loving someone. Sure, I lost my temper in February, my words louder and harsher than they should have been, but that was pain talking. I was cheated on. We had dreams of marriage, of a family, and yet she chose someone else. My outburst was just a manifestation of the hurt inside; it wasn’t about causing harm. Deep down, she knows I was never a threat to her.

Reflecting on my past, I’m reminded of a darker time when I was younger and was molested. I had no voice then, no way to say stop, no power to demand justice in court. He got off with probation while others after me saw him receive a harsher sentence. They were heard, their voices mattered. Why didn’t mine? Why, when it came to me, did it feel like my voice simply vanished? It’s a haunting question, one that echoes back to those moments of helplessness and extends into my present struggles.

I can't help but recall my time in the military, a chapter that left indelible marks on my soul. I witnessed the tragic end of a young soldier's life right before my eyes. Desperate for help, I cried out, but my pleas were ignored, unheard. The aftermath forced me to attend his funeral—a decision made without my consent. The ceremony was torturous, especially the roll call. Hearing his name called out, knowing he would never respond, was unbearable. It was a stark reminder of his absence, part of a ritual that felt like an unnecessary addition to the grief. My military life unraveled after that incident, a testament to the deep scars it left on me.

My voicelessness didn't end there. My relationship with Christina, my ex-girlfriend, further exemplified this painful silence. Despite my warnings, she frequented a bar I feared was dangerous. My concerns were dismissed by everyone, her parents included. My worst fears materialized when she was found drugged and unconscious there. That morning, her tears revealed the horrific reality of what had happened to her. Once again, I was sidelined, my warnings unheeded, leaving me powerless to protect her.

This recurring theme of being unheard, of my voice seemingly vanishing into the void, haunts me. Whether it was during my military service, in personal relationships, or in moments of deep personal crisis, my attempts to speak out, to warn, to express concern, were all overlooked. What is it about me that renders my voice inaudible to those around me? Why does it seem like my words, my experiences, hold no weight? This quest for answers, for understanding, remains as elusive as ever.

Now as I sit here my life hovers on the edge of an abyss. The threat of up to 20 years behind bars looms over me for crimes I did not commit. My arsenal against these charges is substantial: photographs, text messages, concrete evidence refuting every claim made in her deposition. Yet, my attempts to be heard dissolve into silence—calls unreturned, pleas ignored.

I’ve sought the aid of various lawyers, only to be met with claims of conflicts of interest. It’s bewildering, this relentless dismissal of my voice, as if it's destined to fade into the background noise of the universe. Since discovering Antonella’s accusations—allegations aiming to penalize me for supposed violations of her privacy in December 2022—I’ve fought tirelessly to clear my name. Even resorting to sharing evidence on social media in the hope that someone, anyone, might listen and see the truth. But my efforts seem to vanish into the void.

Antonella's affidavit denies drug use and prostitution, claims blatantly contradicted by the evidence I hold. I possess messages, a list of nearly 40 names, and documented evidence of her actions, including repeated medical checks for HIV, all of which underscore the falsehoods of her statements. Yet, none of this seems to matter; my voice remains unheard, my evidence overlooked.

The strain of this battle wears on me, eroding my spirit day by day. My calls to Antonella, once filled with concern and a desire to understand her sudden disappearance, are now twisted into accusations of harassment. The truth of our last night together, marked by intimacy and warmth, is now overshadowed by this nightmare. My attempts to reach out, to ensure she retrieved her belongings and a significant check she left behind, have been recast as sinister motives in her narrative.

The saga took a darker turn with her brother and his friends attacking my character, branding me with vile accusations during a live social media session. Even my attempt to mend fences, to extend an olive branch, was manipulated against me. It’s a painful irony that my efforts to help, to clarify, have only tightened the noose of accusations around my neck.

This ordeal has not only besieged me emotionally but has also drained me financially. The cost of bail, the burden of monitoring fees, and the sacrifices made to comply with court demands have left me teetering on the brink of despair. Every dollar I manage to scrape together is siphoned off by the legal system, a relentless financial bleed that forces me to choose between basic necessities and appeasing court requirements.

Why must the pursuit of love, the expression of care, lead to such profound punishment? The weight of this GPS tracker is a constant reminder of the freedom I've lost, not just in movement but in spirit. As I navigate this Kafkaesque nightmare, I’m left wondering why my voice, laden with truth, remains stifled, unheard amid the cacophony of lies.

The depth of my struggle only deepens as I reflect on the months spent seeking help, ever since the realization that Antonella was orchestrating a campaign against me. My pleas for assistance have echoed across various agencies—Arlington PD, Fort Worth, Roanoke, Denton. I even reached out to immigration and the Department of Homeland Security, driven by the urgency of death threats looming over me. Yet, in this cacophony of desperate calls for help, my voice seems to dissipate into the void, unacknowledged and unanswered.

It’s a cruel irony, how my voice was once recognized and valued, clear and resonant, when I raised my right hand to swear an oath to defend my country. That voice, once deemed worthy of trust and responsibility, now seems lost to those I seek help from. The contrast is stark and bitter—my commitment to serve and protect my nation stands in sharp contrast to the silence that greets my current pleas for justice and understanding.

Now, I find myself facing an adversary who, despite her actions that defy the laws of this land, seems to navigate with impunity. The situation with her ex-mother-in-law, a revelation that emerged from the shadows of illicit activities, adds another layer of complexity to my plight. Discovering her involvement in prostitution shortly after her arrival in this country—evidenced by a website that brazenly advertises her services—underscores the gravity of the deception and manipulation I’m up against. She had only been here for 5 hours, according to her admission on the site, before she was already ensnared in activities that flaunt the very essence of law and decency.

This juxtaposition of my past dedication to duty and my present struggle for recognition and justice paints a disheartening picture of abandonment. It’s a saga of betrayal, not just by individuals entangled in their web of deceit but seemingly by the very systems I once vowed to protect. The question of why my voice, once authoritative and respected, now seems relegated to the fringes of irrelevance is a haunting one. It challenges the very notions of justice, equity, and the value of truth in a society I fought to defend.

In this relentless quest for vindication and truth, I'm left grappling with shadows, fighting a battle that feels increasingly Sisyphean. The irony of my situation—a soldier once hailed for his commitment, now struggling to be heard in his own defense—reflects a troubling disconnect between the values we profess to uphold and the realities of navigating our justice and support systems.

The saddest part of all this is how it's slowly undoing everything I've achieved in the last year. After a long battle, I managed to escape the grip of drug addiction and have been pouring my soul into learning everything I can about mental health. I've been deeply involved in Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) classes, embracing every lesson in hopes of rebuilding myself. Yet, now, it feels like it's all slipping through my fingers.

Lately, the thought of suicide creeps into my mind daily. It's a haunting that doesn't pause, a shadow that follows me relentlessly. Just the other day, I found myself forming a plan, a way out, and even acquired enough fentanyl to carry it through multiple times over. But a part of me resisted, a part that still believes this isn't how my story should end. With a heavy heart, I threw it all away, a decision as painful as it was necessary. I know deep down that I don't want my story to end in such darkness, but the thoughts of escape from this pain are relentless, besieging me without mercy.

This ongoing battle feels like it's tearing at the very fabric of the progress I've made, challenging every step I've taken towards healing and self-understanding. My strides in overcoming addiction, my dive into the depths of mental health to emerge stronger, now seem like distant memories as I grapple with these consuming thoughts of ending it all.

Yet, despite this turmoil, there's a flicker of hope, a stubborn refusal to let this be my end. The choice to discard the means of my planned escape was a moment of clarity in the chaos, a reminder of the resilience within me. It's a fight to keep that hope alive, to remind myself daily that there's a reason to continue, even when the darkness feels overwhelming.

-Curtis

It Consumes You

In the quiet depths where shadows weave,

Lies a soul, unanchored, struggling to believe.

A void expands, consuming light, consuming glee,

Leaving nothing but echoes of what used to be.

"There's nothing left of you to like," a whisper in the night,

A ghostly murmur, fading, deprived of might.

"There's nothing left of you to love," a deeper, darker plea,

A heart once vibrant, now bound in apathy.

"There's nothing left to you for anything," the silence roars,

A desolate confession, from within closed doors.

It's a darkness, relentless, that takes without giving,

Eroding the essence, my joy of living.

Piece by peace, it disassembles my core,

Leaving a husk, barely recognizable anymore.

Bit by bit, the darkness feasts, unkind,

Devouring hope, leaving despair behind.

Until succumbing seems the only path to tread,

In this relentless night, where light has fled.

I remember, when within the deepest, darkest night,

There was the potential for dawn, a sliver of light.

Now my journey is fraught, the climb steep,

No more strength within, not even a spark to keep.

For now I live in the void, where shadows dance,

Nothing more than a burden, not worth a second glance.

I held on, though the darkness did consume,

With no more strength to dispel the gloom.

For within the nothing, there's something true,

Nothing left but anger and hate, this death is all because of you.

Shattered

You shattered me, the final soul I believed  

Held my well-being above all, a deceptive weave.  

Your care, it seemed, was but a conditional art,  

Present only when it served your heart.  

You profess love, claim I'm your true desire,  

Yet with another, you kindle a lesser fire.  

You lament their clinginess, seek refuge in my grace,  

But replicate the wrongs, a familiar disgrace.  

You've razed the trust I once freely gave,  

Leaving me to navigate a lonely, wary wave.  

Now, you stand with those who've shown me clear,  

What I seek not in life, whom to steer near.  

This lesson, though harsh, has opened my eyes,  

To discern truth amidst a sea of lies.  

I'll forge ahead, with a heart both wary and wise,  

Seeking a love that no longer disguises its guise.

Out Of The Blue

After a day filled with unexpected laughter and warmth, courtesy of my time with my daughter, the quiet of the evening settled around me with a gentle familiarity. These moments of joy, increasingly rare, shine all the brighter against the backdrop of my usual solitude. Yet, as I sat there, lost in thought, the abrupt ring of the phone pierced the calm—a call from my ex wife, of all people.

Her voice on the other end was a bolt from the blue, stark against the serene day I had just enjoyed. Our last exchange was anything but warm; anger had clouded my judgment upon learning she had visited Texas only to leave as silently as she arrived, taking our son back to North Carolina without a word to me. It felt like a betrayal, a clandestine move that left me grappling with a mix of abandonment and sorrow.

The complexity of emotions that my ex's call evoked was overwhelming. Resentment for her silent departure with our son, pain from the estrangement it symbolized, and a deep-seated sadness for the lost Father's Days that once brought joy now marred by absence. And then, the card— a Father's Day card from years ago, filled with my boys' handwritten notes. Doris knew well the weight of its significance, the depth of pain its memory invoked, especially in light of the years of silence that followed.

This evening's unexpected turn, juxtaposed with the day's earlier happiness, underscores the bittersweet tapestry of my current existence. My ex's call, unwelcome yet poignant, dredged up memories long buried, reopening old wounds. It served as a harsh reminder of the distances that have grown between us, not just in miles but in shared moments, in understanding, and in heart.

Yet, amidst the pain and reflection, today's time spent with my daughter remains a beacon of hope, a reminder that not all is lost. Despite the complexities and challenges that lie in the tangled web of past and present relationships, moments of genuine connection, like those with my daughter, offer a glimmer of what could be—a path toward reconciliation, understanding, and perhaps, healing.

A Caged Animal

In this moment, I grapple with a profound sense of loss, a loss so deep it feels as if it's chipping away at my very essence. The imposition of a GPS monitor, an ever-watchful eye, represents more than just a physical constraint—it's a symbolic stripping away of my autonomy, my freedom. It feels as though I'm being incessantly tracked, every movement scrutinized, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.

The irony of this situation is not lost on me. I've lived my life as a man of peace, never once resorting to violence as a means to an end. My hands have always been instruments of care, never harm. Yet, here I stand, treated as a menace to society, branded with a device that screams 'dangerous,' despite my peaceful nature. This contradiction wounds me deeply, creating a chasm between who I know myself to be and how I am perceived.

The freedom to simply be, to wander into the woods and immerse myself in the tranquility of nature, has been taken from me. Those woods were my sanctuary, a place where I could find solace and a sense of safety. Now, that sanctuary feels beyond my reach. The constant awareness that my every move is being monitored has erected invisible walls around me, confining me in a world where the concept of safety feels like a distant memory.

This constant state of vigilance is exhausting, eating away at my peace of mind. The thought of surrendering to confinement, of choosing jail over this perpetual state of surveillance, has crossed my mind more times than I care to admit. Perhaps in seeking to avoid one form of captivity, I've unwittingly traded it for another, more insidious form. The weight of this realization is crushing, leaving me to ponder if the path of least resistance might bring some semblance of peace, or if it's merely another form of surrender.

As I navigate this labyrinth of emotions and restrictions, I find myself at a crossroads, searching for a way to reclaim a sense of self in a world that seems determined to define me by my limitations rather than my humanity.

I Will Take It

On a day shrouded in shadows, veiled in silent strife,

When fate unwound its harsh decree upon my angel's life.

The news fell like autumn leaves, with a cruel, ungentle sting,

My heart heard the silence of an angel robbed of wings.

In the garden of our lives, where love had freely grown,

A storm brewed in secret, its fury yet unknown.

To the world, I showed a fortress, unyielding, strong, and bright,

But within my soul’s cloister, I battled through the night.

"Why her?" I railed at heavens, in a silent, inward scream,

"She, who’s nurtured life, now bears this unseen dream.

Four beautiful blossoms she tenderly brought to light,

Now faces her twilight years in an unjust fight."

Her smile, a beacon of hope, amidst the encroaching gloom,

Her strength, a testament, in facing impending doom.

Yet, in the quiet of the night, to the stars, I plead and say,

"Take this burden from her, let me bear it, I pray."

"Let my shoulders carry the weight, let my spirit face the test,

For she’s the heart of our home, the architect of our nest.

In the golden years meant for rest, peace, and love’s embrace,

She stands in the storm, with courage, dignity, and grace."

God, in your infinite wisdom, where pain and love entwine,

Hear a humble plea, let her suffering be mine.

Ease her journey, lift her spirit, grant her wings to soar,

For she is an angel, deserving of so much more.

As seasons change and years will pass, whatever may come to be,

Together we’ll navigate this path, her hand clasped in mine, eternally.

In love’s eternal garden, where true strength is found,

We stand united, unbroken, on this hallowed ground.

Who Am I?

Today, it hit me with a clarity that's been elusive for so long. It's as if I've been walking through a fog, and suddenly, it lifted, revealing a landscape that's both familiar and utterly foreign. The essence of my turmoil isn't about guilt or innocence in the eyes of the law; it's about the court of public opinion, where judgments are passed not on evidence, but on perception.

I've always operated under the principle of love and integrity, trying to do right by those around me. Yet, when faced with betrayal, my response, though born out of pain, has been labeled as transgression. They accuse me of violating privacy, of crossing lines that society deems sacred, suggesting that such actions merit incarceration. But the question that gnaws at me is, do they truly? In my heart, I believe not, for aggression, the kind that seeks to harm, has never been my path.

It's a peculiar form of isolation, to be deemed a pariah for your reactions to betrayal, to have your pleas and protests drowned out by the cacophony of condemnation. This vilification has led me to question the very core of who I am. Am I the monster they claim me to be? This question haunts my waking moments, a specter whispering doubts into my ear.

It's impossible not to draw parallels with the protagonist of "A Beautiful Mind," whose reality was a tapestry woven from the threads of his own mind, indistinguishable from the fabric of the world around him. Am I like him, blind to my own nature, a stranger to myself?

This journey of introspection is fraught with uncertainty. Yet, it's a path I must traverse, seeking truth amidst the shadows of doubt. For only in confronting these questions can I hope to find peace, not just within the confines of society's judgments, but within the depths of my own soul.

- Curtis

Let The Legal Battle Begin

Journal Entry:

Embarking on this journey as my own legal advocate, embracing the role with the rights of a lawyer at my disposal, has been an intense yet clarifying experience. With over eight subpoenas prepared and ready to be dispatched as we head to trial, my resolve has never been stronger. The decision to stand firm, to refuse any plea bargain when I stand innocent of the charges against me, is not one I've taken lightly. It's a stance against a system that too often pressures the innocent to concede for the sake of expediency.

Among these subpoenas are requests for records from various dating sites, phone and text records from multiple carriers, and testimonies from key individuals ready to provide sworn statements. These statements are crucial—they directly challenge the credibility of the allegations laid out in the original petition, which was itself submitted under oath. This evidence alone hints at the possibility of perjury charges against the plaintiff, revealing the shaky foundation upon which their case stands.

The depth of my investigation has uncovered information across a spectrum of sources, including no less than thirty usernames from dating sites. One username in particular, "Fruit Loops," promises to bring an intriguing dimension to the trial. It's these pieces of evidence, collected meticulously in my role as a pro se litigant, that I believe will unravel the narrative constructed against me.

This path I've chosen, away from the shadows of a plea bargain and into the light of trial, is fraught with challenges. Yet, it's a path that promises justice, not just for me but as a testament to the truth. My preparations, grounded in the legal rights and responsibilities I've taken upon myself, are not just about proving my innocence. They're about exposing the truth, about ensuring that the legal system works as it should, with justice as the guiding principle.

As I stand ready to defend myself, the weight of these subpoenas in hand, I am reminded of the power of truth. The battle ahead is not just legal; it's a fight for fairness, for integrity, and for the vindication of my name. The evidence I've gathered, the testimonies poised to be heard, all lead to a trial that I believe will not only clear my name but also shed light on the misuse of the legal system for personal vendettas. In the end, it's a trial that will be as much about restoring my reputation as it is about revealing the truth behind the allegations.

A Caged Animal

In the silence of this room, I sit, feeling trapped, a rat,

Encased not in steel, but in judgment's heavy weight, flat.

The armor I once bore, thin air it seems to be,

Ripped away, leaving me bare, in a vast, unfriendly sea.

Whispers and shadows have always been friends close,

Rumors of fights and conquests, a cloak I proudly chose.

A bad boy, they said, fierce in every tale spun,

Yet, in truth, my battles are few, victories hardly won.

Less than four encounters where fists were meant to fly,

I’m no beast, no monster, on that you can rely.

A flea poses more threat than I could ever bring,

But labels stick, they shape the bell that continues to ring.

The only shield I had, a skill honed with care,

To vanish, to blend, to escape the predatory stare.

Solitude, my refuge, from those with harm in mind,

But even that, they took, leaving me nowhere to find.

Bound by lies, by deceit, a GPS declares my every move,

My wings clipped, my spirit caged, nothing left to prove.

This tag, an unyielding echo of every whispered fear,

A reminder of a freedom lost, year after endless year.

Will this chain ever break? Will the monitor ever go?

Or is this my fate, an eternal show?

They must act, remove this bind, set my spirit free,

Or let it be my constant companion, even as they bury me.

A call for justice, for truth, to break through the night,

For the world to see beyond the rumors, beyond the fright.

A plea for understanding, for peace, to finally win,

To shed the labels, the monitor, the skin I'm trapped within.

Dear God

God, if You're out there, listening, I stand before You not just as a man, but as a soul laid bare, weather-beaten by the tumults of life, seeking solace, understanding, perhaps even redemption. My father, a beacon of unwavering faith, always seemed to navigate life's storms with a serene trust in Your guidance. His faith was a lighthouse in the dark, a testament to the power of belief. I've admired that light from afar, feeling the warmth yet never fully basking in its glow. My own faith has flickered in the wind, strong one moment and weak the next, never quite steady, never as resolute.

Life, as You've witnessed, has been a series of trials, each leaving its mark upon my spirit. From the chaos of childhood, through the harsh realities of adulthood, to the unspeakable horrors I encountered in the military, my path has been strewn with obstacles that seemed insurmountable. Through it all, You've been a silent observer, privy to every thought, every tear, every moment of despair. The weight of these experiences has often felt like a yoke around my neck, dragging me down, yet somehow, I've managed to keep moving forward, however aimlessly it may seem.

Love has been a fleeting visitor in my life, arriving with promises of eternal warmth only to depart, leaving a chill in its wake. I've felt the embrace of love, its tender touch, and the sheer joy of connecting with another soul on the deepest level. Yet, each time, it has slipped through my fingers like water, leaving me parched and longing for just one more drop. The pain of these losses haunts me, a constant reminder of what could have been, of moments shared and then lost to time.

In my quest to find purpose, to make a difference, however small, I've often felt like a lone voice in the wilderness, shouting into the void. I've tried to be a force for good, to spread kindness like seeds in the hope that they might take root and flourish. But the world can be a harsh, unforgiving place, and my efforts sometimes seem like drops in an endless ocean of need. The injustices I see, the pain and suffering of the innocent, it weighs heavily on my heart. I can't help but question why, why the innocent must suffer while those who inflict pain seem to do so with impunity.

I've offered myself, my very life, in exchange for the sparing of those innocents, believing that my sacrifice could somehow tip the scales, could make a difference. And yet, I remain. This has led me to wonder, what is it that You see in me? What purpose do I serve in this vast, intricate tapestry of existence? Why am I spared when so many seemingly more deserving souls are not?

In this moment of raw honesty, I'm asking for Your guidance, for a sign, for some indication of the path I'm meant to walk. Help me understand the lessons I'm to learn from the trials I've faced, the pain I've endured, and the losses I've suffered. Show me how to transform these experiences into stepping stones towards a greater understanding, towards a deeper connection with You and with the essence of my own soul.

Let me see the light in myself that others have seen, the light I've struggled to recognize and embrace. Help me find the strength to continue on this journey, not just as a survivor, but as a beacon for others who navigate their own storms. Teach me to find joy in the journey, peace in the midst of turmoil, and hope in the face of despair.

I stand here, God, a man humbled by life's trials, seeking not just answers but understanding. I yearn for a sense of belonging, a place within this vast universe where I can say with certainty that I am where I'm meant to be, doing what I'm meant to do. In this moment of communion with You, let me find the courage to face whatever comes next, armed with faith, hope, and love. Let my life be a testament, not to the struggles I've faced, but to the strength, resilience, and compassion that can emerge from the deepest wells of despair. This is my prayer, a plea for clarity, for purpose, and for peace.

Remember What I Was And Not What I Became

In fractured shards of mind I see, The ghost of who I used to be. Now a twisted form, a shattered shell, tormented soul ablaze, where nightmares dwell.

Remember me, before the storm, When laughter danced, and hope kept warm. No BPD's dark, tangled knot, vivid echoes of abuse, never forgot.

Remember my hands that sought to heal, My gentle heart that could reveal the depths of trust, my eyes so bright, Before the shadows claimed my light.

Remember not the demons' roar, Nor walls I built to shield my core. I remember my dreams, whispered and sweet, This boy who danced with bare, young feet.

Remember not the monster's guise, Nor shadows cast by pained disguise. I remember love, unwavering, true, this boy who yearned for love from you.

Abandoned, yes, a lonely plight, Lost love's ember burns dull and faint. Though isolation chills my bone, I realized, love cant find its home.

So let the tears of memory fall, For who I was, before the fall. And in the echoes, brutal not kind, Remember me, with heart and mind. 

Does He Know?

In the whispering shadows where truths often hide,  

A voice ponders on love, its twists and turns wide.  

"Does he see her essence, pure and untamed,  

Her perfection, her grace, not to be blamed?

Does he grasp the treasure within his reach,  

A love so profound, no words could teach?  

For I've danced with fortune, held it close,  

Only to see its ghost when it mattered the most.

I've yearned for a love, so deep, so vast,  

Only realizing its value once it had passed.  

But in her, I see all I've ever desired,  

A soul so captivating, endlessly admired.

Yet, amidst this chorus of praise, I pause to wonder,  

What magic does he hold that pulls her asunder?  

What does he possess, this enigma, this charm,  

That draws her to him, immune to alarm?

I ponder, what secrets lie in his gaze,  

That captivate her heart, setting it ablaze?  

What whispers in the wind, what unspoken bond,  

Makes her see in him, of whom she's so fond?

I hope he sees beyond the surface, so clear,  

Recognizes the gem before him, so dear.  

May he not break her heart, nor let her tears flow,  

For she is a queen, in her radiance, she does glow.

She deserves not the scars of careless hands,  

But to be cherished, as true love demands.  

In my eyes, she's flawless, without a single fault,  

A beacon of perfection, in her, no blemish to assault.

So, I hope he realizes, before it's too late,  

The magnitude of his fortune, the turn of fate.  

For she is a treasure, in every possible way,  

May he honor her love, each and every day.

And yet, in the silent echo of my heart's refrain,  

I wonder, what draws her to him, amidst the pain?  

What sees she in him, that in me remains unseen,  

A puzzle, a mystery, in love's vast, uncharted scene."

In this reflection, a plea for love's true sight,  

A wish for recognition, in the heart's gentle light.  

May love be cherished, in its purest form embraced,  

A journey of devotion, in tender grace laced.

Gone Before It Even Started

In the quiet whispers of the breaking dawn,

There walked a man, forlorn, yet drawn

To memories of a love that shone so bright,

Vanished like shadows fleeing from light.

He thought he'd found his heart's true call,

A soulmate to catch him should he fall,

In her gaze, a future so clear and bright,

A promise of day after the longest night.

They danced on the edge of something great,

A bond he believed was sealed by fate,

But before their story could truly start,

She vanished, leaving a shattered heart.

Ghosted, she left without a trace,

Her absence a void he couldn't replace.

No reasons given, no goodbyes said,

Just echoes of silence, heavy as lead.

He pondered what he thought he knew,

Was their connection not true?

A phantom love, was she just a mirage?

Leaving him at the mercy of sabotage.

Yet in the pain of her sudden departure,

He found a resilience, a kind of rapture.

Understanding sometimes love is a lesson,

Not just a path to possession.

He learned to love the solitude,

Finding peace in the interlude.

For love that's true doesn't flee or hide,

But stands firm, always by your side.

So he walks on, under the stars' gleam,

Wiser now, with a new dream.

For even a heart once led astray,

Finds hope in love's eternal ballet.

Your Web Of Lies

In shadows deep, where secrets lie,  

A lady lived, beneath a darkened sky.  

She tried to tread the path of truth so narrow,  

But her words were like an untrue arrow.  

Manipulations spun from silken threads,  

Wove around her heart, her soul in shreds.  

Victim, too, of her own mind's cruel deceit,  

A battle within she could never defeat.  

She portrayed a love, so bright, so pure,  

But in her heart, intentions were never sure.  

With a smile, she turned, betrayal so stark,  

And in his back, she left a biting mark.  

She tried to send him far, far away,  

Believing it would ease her own disarray.  

But in her actions, errors were sown,  

A dark life lived, silently, alone.  

Her secrets, like shadows, grew tall and wide,  

A darkened life she never could confide.  

But time, relentless, unveiled the night,  

Bringing her deeds into the light.  

Now the moment has come, a painful echo,  

For her to face what was hidden below.  

The truths she masked, the lies she wove,  

A tangled web, a treasure trove.  

In revealing light, her path she sees,  

A chance to mend, to heal, to appease.  

Though darkness embraced her every stride,  

In the end, it's she who must decide.  

To step from shadows, to seek the day,  

To right the wrongs, to find her way.  

For even in the deepest, darkest night,  

A new dawn waits, just out of sight.  

So let her journey from the dark to light,  

Embrace the truth, and hold it tight.  

For in the end, it's love, not lies,  

That heals the soul, and lifts the skies.

The Perfect Vision

In the quiet of a dream's gentle embrace,

I find myself lost, in time and space.

Before me, she sleeps, a vision so clear,

A perfect being, whom the heavens hold dear.

Never had I thought, in my deepest dreams,

Someone could embody my heart's silent screams.

She is everything, my soul ever craved,

A dream come alive, from the fantasies I've saved.

In her presence, I feel a joy so profound,

A beauty so deep, it's nearly unbound.

Yet, within this perfection, lies a subtle flaw,

She belongs to another, by fate's cruel law.

This truth, though it should weigh heavy with sorrow,

Ignites a flame of hope for all my tomorrows.

For her very existence, so pure and so bright,

Confirms that such love is not just a flight.

It gives me hope, in the vast sea of life,

That I'll find my counterpart, free from strife.

Perhaps fate will shift, and in her heart, she'll see,

The love she's with, isn't where she's meant to be.

Or maybe, it's me who will find, in due time,

A soul just like hers, in this world so sublime.

A partner, a lover, whose spirit will intertwine,

With mine, in a dance, divinely designed.

So here I stand, at life's complex crossroad,

Embracing the journey, no matter how broad.

Believing in love, in its power to transcend,

And in the magic of fate, to bring me my end.

For in her, I see the promise of days,

Filled with love, in countless ways.

Though she may not be mine to hold close and cherish,

Her presence alone dispels all my perish.

It assures me that love, in its truest form, exists,

And in this vast world, my own love persists.

I hold onto hope, with a heart open and free,

For somewhere out there, is the one meant for me.

Curtis Is My Name

In the twilight of a dream, I stand, Curtis by name, a heart wide open,

Bearing scars from battles fought, and words unspoken,

A veteran of life's harsh wars, not just those in lands afar,

Longing for a bond unbroken, a love that's fixed like the North Star.

I've chased the shadows of status, wealth, and worldly praise,

Believed in the hollow echo of prosperity's maze.

Yet, in the quiet of the night, beneath the moon's gentle gaze,

I've learned the truth that sets the soul ablaze.

It's not in gold or glitter that our true worth does lie,

Nor in the accolades that pass with a fleeting sigh.

But in the warmth of a hand held tight, in the softness of a sigh,

In the companionship we crave, that no riches can buy.

I hunger for a connection that transcends time's cruel test,

A love that's woven in the fabric of the chest.

To be needed, to be wanted, not as a hero in a frame,

But for the whispers of my heart, Curtis is my name.

I yearn to give love, in its purest, truest form,

To shelter another from life's relentless storm.

For in giving we receive, in a cycle ever true,

The essence of our being, in the love we pursue.

Let us cherish each other, for this journey is but brief,

In honesty and integrity, we find relief.

Not in the fleeting shadows of material desire,

But in the warmth of love's eternal fire.

So, I stand here dreaming, under the vast, starlit sky,

A soul awakened, with a hopeful sigh.

For it's in love we find our purpose, our true calling's sound,

In the bond unbroken, the companionship profound.