Dark Poems Of Love Novels & Stories

“Sleep it over, son. When you’re in the right mind, that’s the time we will have this conversation. I might be able to help. She’s a good woman. You’d be lucky to have someone like her if you wouldn’t keep on messing this up. Look, I don’t know you personally, but you seem to care about her—” “I’m in love with her. I love her so fucking much that I’d rather go to a fucking coma right now than letting her slip off my fingers for the second fucking—no third fucking time.” I even raced my hands to count. I was a fucking mess. “Yeah. You're right, I’m an asshole. A big fucking time douche, but I love her with all my senses. Can’t you believe that? Of course, you can’t, but I love her so fucking

Caroline said. "Shut up! In my eyes, you are still Camryn," snapped Othniel. "No! I'm not Camryn, damn it. Realize your lover is dead," Caroline shouted. "I said shut up!" said Othniel as he grabbed Caroline's chin. "Listen to me; you are still my Camryn. You are not dead, and you will never leave me. We will live together until we grow old," said Othniel, hugging Caroline's body tightly.

He looked down at her so affectionately. "I missed your beautiful face….my love," he said so passionately and she stared at him with gleaming eyes. Did he just call her his love?! Caitlin felt her heart melt. There was this beautiful warm feeling in her spine. He drew even closer to her until they could feel each other's breaths. He smelt so nice, like the freshest flowers in spring, and she smelt as beautiful as the royal ointments from the Arabian palace.

Do you know how many years you'd serve if Jessy actually pressed charges? I stared at him in disbelief, and a chuckle escaped me before I could think. 'Was this the man I once loved? I must've been blind,' I thought to myself.

I knew I could not let this day define me, no matter how heavily the weight of my circumstances pressed upon me. Slowly, I opened my journal that I had kept hidden away since the wedding, its pages a repository of dreams, regrets, and quiet rebellions. I began to write, letting the ink flow freely as I poured out every thought that churned in my heart. I wrote about the hollowness of the vows, the cold finality of the exchanged rings, and the emptiness behind every forced smile. I wrote about Damien’s distant demeanor—how, in his eyes, I saw not love, but a calculated obligation. And I wrote about Ethan, about the bittersweet hope he represented, even as the future seemed to close in around

“Please, I will be indebted to you. Please…… I instantly pressed my lips against hers, stopping her from talking. It wasn't a sweet, gentle kiss of comfort. It was a hungry, desperate kiss, laced with the faint taste of alcohol. It pulled something from me, a deep-seated ache I didn't know I possessed. Her lips parted on a sigh, and my tongue swept in, exploring, tasting her tears with her grief. It was primal, unthinking, but I was sure of one thing. I wanted her. My hands, which were on her cheek, moved up to rest on her hair, pulling her closer. Every ounce of my guilt, my emptiness, seemed to funnel into that kiss, a desperate plea for her.

Their love story was one for the ages, a testament to the power of connection and creativity. As they hugged, Akira whispered, "I'll paint our love story forever." Taro smiled, knowing their love would be a masterpiece. *The Wedding* Their wedding was a beautiful blend of traditional and modern elements. Akira's art studio was transformed into a stunning venue, filled with flowers, candles, and her vibrant paintings. Taro's colleagues and Akira's friends gathered to celebrate their love. As Akira walked down the aisle, Taro's eyes sparkled with happiness. They exchanged vows, promising to love and support each other through life's joys and challenges.

Flings that promised excitement faded into dull disappointment, a carousel of giggles and fake smiles that felt so far removed from anything real. Now, thoughts of those hazel eyes nudged at his conscience like persistent taunts. He found himself zoning out during soccer practices, the adrenaline and cheers of his teammates lost on him as he mentally replayed their encounter. Was she really so blind to the reality of their world? Or was her lack of experience a refreshing counterpoint to the plasticity that often extended throughout Green Valley? Damien found himself thinking more about that hazel eyed girl with wild brown curls, his heart vibrating ever so loud in his chest every-time he th

“Love was never on the table.” “Why? Because of that loser Daniel?” she pressed. “Are you really letting that fool dictate your view on love?” I turned my gaze away, “No, of course not,” I said, rising to my feet. “This has nothing to do with Daniel or that I never gave your men a chance. You are actually right they are nice men but I have no heart to offer any man, it stopped beating four years ago” I plainly stated and requested her to change the topic or I was going to leave.

That’s why his darkness lured me in, because my darkness wanted to be freed. There was no denying anymore that I love him, I love him beyond anything you can possibly imagine. I wish I could run back, and tell him that but it would be of no use. As he said, he could never love me. And now, he hated me. How funny that my darkness is what makes him hate me, while it’s his darkness that makes me love him. Yes, how funny. To be Continued......