Love Poems For Your Crush

"As you walk out of that door, walk out of my life as well." I told him as I looked him straight in the eye. All the love was gone. All the good memories faded. In their places were anger, hatred and disgust. He looked at me as if he couldn't believe what I was saying. "I'm sorry, please give me a chance to be a father to Dah-" "Leave!" I said in a dangerously low tone. He didn't deserve to be called a father. He didn't deserve to live at all, you know why? Because he took away everything from me. My virginity, my happiness, my education, my teenage life and my family. Everything. He was a monster and my daughter would never call him daddy.

Dario Morello came from old money in Santria City—but his family was cursed. Every guy in that bloodline dropped dead before twenty-five, like something sucked the life out of them. The only way out? Marry someone with a rare fertility gene. In my last life, my adopted sister Serena jacked my wedding dress and took my place at the altar. I exposed her right there in front of everyone. She became Santria's biggest joke. Then she killed herself. My parents said I was heartless. Cut me off without blinking. Dario? He hated me too. On the anniversary of Serena's death, he locked me in a basement, strapped me with explosives, and snapped, "That fertility gene lie? You made it up for clout and cash. Serena was pregnant with my kid. You killed them both. So now—you're going with her." Next thing I knew, I was waking up on the morning of the wedding. This time? I helped Serena with the veil and wished them a perfect life.

I've been married to my mate, William Parker, for three years. Yet, he has never claimed me. He always says that once his territory expands, he will hold a grand marking ceremony for me. I believed him and willingly waited for three years. But today, I witnessed with my own eyes William claiming my younger sister, Naomi Jenkins, at the altar. In fact, she has been missing for three years. At the marking ceremony, my three older brothers stand firmly by Naomi's side, supporting her. "Naomi was too young back then and was deceived by the Beta of the Northern pack into fleeing. Now she's been poisoned by silver nitrate and doesn't have long to live. Her only wish is to become your mate," they say. William nods and replies calmly, "For three years, I didn't hold a marking ceremony for Patricia. I was waiting for Naomi to return and explain things to me. "I will claim Naomi as my own to fulfill her final wish. But Patricia must never know. If she finds out, she'll leave me." My brothers, however, are certain. "It's fine. She loves you that much. Even if she knew, she wouldn't leave. Right now, nothing matters more than Naomi." I flee in despair, realizing that those three years of waiting were nothing but a cruel joke. The marking ceremony was always meant for Naomi. After she left, my brothers showered me with affection. I foolishly thought I was finally loved. But the truth hurts. Whenever Naomi returns, all their love goes back to her. The moment I learn the truth, my heart shatters, and I leave. Yet why, after I'm gone, do they all regret it?

Benedict Cole’s undercover mission had failed. Only his twin brother, David Cole, returned. I was devastated, nearly driven to madness over losing my husband. Holding Benedict’s police badge, I tried to slit my wrists nine times, but I was always rescued just in time. As my consciousness faded on my tenth attempt, I overheard a conversation between my mother-in-law, Helen, and David. “El has tried to commit suicide for you ten times now. How long are you going to keep this act up? This woman is head over heels for you. Just stop lying to her already!” David’s expression hardened as he flatly refused. “David took a bullet for me. It is only right that I take care of his wife.” “El’s from the countryside. She’s tough. Once Melissa becomes pregnant and has a child to live for, only then can I reveal that I am actually Benedict.” The bathtub was dyed red with my blood, but the pain in my heart was far greater than the sting of my wound. It turned out that it had all been a lie, a deception meant only for me. My grief-stricken suicide attempts for love were nothing short of a clown’s tragicomedy.

"Just... let me love you, and you can pretend to love me; I don't mind; please, Axel, give me a chance." Chloe desires nothing more than to be loved by the man she adores. Axel was the first man she had ever given her undivided attention to in her life. So when she learned that their parents wanted them to marry, she didn't hesitate to say yes. However, Chloe has a problem: Axel is in love with someone else, which is why he can't reciprocate her feelings. Axel is well-known throughout the mafia world. He was dubbed the "most dangerous man alive" because of his heartless and cruel ways. When it comes to the woman he loves, though, it will be the polar opposite. Who truly weighs in his heart will put his resilience to the test. Aside from being a mafia boss, he also possesses a dark secret that causes Chloe a lot of pain. Everything will change for Chloe as she walks through the darkness. The previous Chloe that everyone knows will vanish, and when she reappears, she will have no option but to wreak vengeance on the person who had devastated her life and murder it ruthlessly. Life is a living hell, but sorrow can also be the source of endless happiness. Will the heart, which is engulfed in intense rage, be restored to its former state? Will there be a second opportunity to resurrect the dead love, or will they be gobbled up by their terrible past?

I always thought if I just held on a little longer, I could still keep this family together. But my mate Ethan and my brother William poured all their favoritism onto Ava and her mother, and left me nothing but coldness and humiliation. They could even look me in the eye and say, “She’s your sister too,” like that was enough to make me bless them. That night, I did something so insane it bordered on self-destruction: I dragged my suitcase out the door and let the house that held all my memories get swallowed by flames. The news exploded, our villa became ruins. The security footage showed “no one leaves,” and the police made a preliminary judgment that the person inside was “highly likely deceased.” Ethan didn’t believe it. Not until he and William were handed that bag of belongings at the police station, a diamond, a Blood Moonstone, the things I treasured most, did they finally understand: I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was really, truly done with them. Too bad. It was already too late.

On the day the true heiress and I swapped places, my childhood sweetheart, bound to me by a promise made in youth, gripped my hand before our families and declared, "I chose you, not your title." Anna Pedersen, tears brimming in her eyes, enveloped me in a trembling embrace. "Joanne, we'll always be family. I'd never take what's rightfully yours." Everyone assumed I'd turned misfortune into fortune. Though I lost my status as the Pedersen heiress, I gained a steadfast lover and a selfless sister. But three years after fate corrected itself, photos of Calvin Thomas escorting Anna to a prenatal checkup flooded the internet. When I confronted him, he exhaled a plume of smoke and said coolly, "Anna is my true betrothed. This is just setting things right. Why are you so worked up?" He seized my wrist and dragged our engraved engagement ring across the back of my hand, leaving a bloody gash. "This scar will remind you of the twenty years of life you stole. Your life and I belong to their rightful owner."

My mom is a retired supermodel. She's added a monitor to the weight scales at home so that she can monitor my and my sister, Abigail Teller's perfect body weight. If my data goes up by 0.1%, Mom will ban me from eating for the next three days. But the thing is, Abigail keeps eating fried chicken every day, yet her monitor's light is always green. Mom claims that Abigail's still going through puberty. I defend myself, saying that I've gained weight because of the bloating caused by my period. As Mom points at the red light emitted by my monitor, she exclaims, "The data is never wrong! If you've gained weight, that means you've been snacking far too much!" After getting punished many times, I begin believing that being fat is a sin. On the night of my 20th birthday, the long-term diet I've been placed on has triggered my kidney failure, which causes me to bloat up everywhere. I kneel on the floor and plead to Mom that I'm seriously ill. But that's when the monitor lets out a shrill alarm. When Mom sees the 5% increase in my body fat data, she puts me through a devillish punishment. I can feel the electric currents jolting through my body. "It's bad enough that you've secretly snacked on cake, but to even lie in my face about your illness? I'd like to see how long you can stay stubborn for!" Having said her piece, Mom locks the door and takes Abigail out to celebrate her birthday. I guess Mom is correct. Monitors never lie. I'm the one who's at the wrong for being a glutton. That's why I've transformed into a monster who doesn't deserve any love at all. I'm sorry, Mom. I'll only drink water in my next life.

On Christmas Eve, my parents and my fiancé, Ivano Dominici, finally agree to accompany me to Iberion to see the aurora. But when I arrive there, they never show up no matter how long I wait. I send messages to ask. They reply helplessly that something urgent has come up at the last minute and tell me to go to the observation point and wait. I stand alone on the icy field, turning back every few minutes to look at the road behind me. When my hands grow numb from the cold, I scroll my social media feed and see a recent post from my younger sister, Giada Soave. Holding gifts in her arms, she sits beneath a luxurious crystal Christmas tree with my parents embracing her from both sides. Ivano stands behind her with his hand resting lightly at her waist and his eyes full of tenderness. The caption reads, "Merry Christmas, I'm grateful to spend the holiday with those who love me most!" The comments section buzzes with blessings, praise, and envious messages. I stare at the screen for a long time without moving. This is not the first time they break their promise to me because of Giada. But this time, I do not argue or make a scene. I simply type and send one line calmly in the comments, "I wish your family of four a Merry Christmas." I finally let go of my obsession and stop waiting for people who will never come to me. But when I quietly step away, the ones who cannot let go turn out to be them.

I had moved out of our house, but my boyfriend—the one I had given up everything to run away with—had no idea. Neither did his possessive younger brother, the one who used to knock on my door calling for me. My boyfriend's first love had taken up all their attention. They no longer listened when I played the piano. They even forgot about my cat fur allergy and brought that woman's cat home. My boyfriend, Ian Blake, had snapped, "If anyone's leaving, it's you. There's no way Eva's cat is going anywhere." His brother, Sebastian, had said, "Sienna, Eva is my girlfriend. How could I give up her cat for you?" When I woke up in the hospital after going into anaphylactic shock from my allergy, I decided to leave them. Back home, I made my first call to my mother. "Mom, I'm ready to accept the arranged marriage."