You came to me looking for shelter, Mistaking the dark for a harmless place. You thought you could touch what waits inside me And walk away without changing shape. I don’t trade in mercy or mercy’s disguise, I let the wanting grow where it hides. Every vow you whispered in weakness Still circles the heat in the back of your mind. You asked me to soften the hunger, You asked me to make it feel safe, I told you the fire remembers devotion— But you leaned closer anyway. Don’t step any nearer if you don’t intend To lose the shape of who you were then. You felt the pull before you spoke my name, You knew this touch would never stay tame. Kiss me like a curse you can’t outrun, Say my name when your hands go numb, Carve your want where devotion begins, Let it bloom underneath your skin. If you ask for forever, step all the way in— Because nothing survives me halfway. Love was never rescue, I never pretended, You called me holy until you saw the end. You dressed your hunger in sacred language, Then froze when I answered it back again. I don’t kneel in confession or bargain for souls, I don’t soften the edge of what I control. You drank my silence like something holy— Now you ache when I let you go. Don’t build an altar unless you will burn, You felt the craving before you learned. You crossed the line with your eyes alone, Now tell me what you think you own. Kiss me like a curse you can’t outrun, Say my name when your hands go numb, Carve your want where devotion begins, Let it bloom underneath your skin. If you ask for forever, step all the way in— Because nothing survives me halfway. You call it weakness when you hesitate, You pray the feeling will leave with time, But every step you take away from me Still traces the mark I left behind. Kiss me like a curse you can’t outrun, Say my name when your hands go numb, Carve your want where devotion begins, Let it bloom underneath your skin. If you ask for forever, step all the way in— Because nothing survives me halfway. You didn’t fall. You walked inside. And called it fate.
