𓂀 𝙸𝙽𝙺-𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙸𝙽𝙴𝙳 𝚂𝙸𝙽 
𝘈 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺.

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𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞
✒️ 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎
🗡 𝙴𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛
🖤 𝙿𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊

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𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞s
🖤 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚟𝚜. 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚢
📖 𝚁𝚞𝚒𝚗 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙰𝚜 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎
🗡 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 & 𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚂𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎
🕯 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊, 𝙼𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢, 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕
🖋 𝙿𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛, 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙸𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙾𝚏 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎

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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬
❝ 𝘞𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘞𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯. ❞
❝ 𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥. ❞
❝ 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯. ❞

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💬 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛

I told her not to fall.
She jumped anyway,
and I was the one who met her mid-air, just to watch her shatter.

Nathan Viarchi writes like he sins,
slow, calculated, and always to leave a mark.
His verses aren't love poems.
They're confessions wrapped in bruises,
inked on flesh and memory, meant to scar.

He doesn't fall. He devours.
He doesn't feel. He documents.
And he never bleeds for the same girl twice.

Until her.

Aylin. All bite and broken edges.
A tragedy dressed in temptation,
the kind of girl you don't write about,
unless you're ready to burn the page after.

He should've walked away.
Should've taken her once, then disappeared like all the rest.

But instead, he wrote her into every sin.

They're not lovers.
They're an affliction.
Toxic. Addictive.
Each the drug and the withdrawal.

She's tired of being turned into metaphors.
He only knows how to speak in them.

But this isn't love.
It's ruin, ink-stained and breathless,
whispered like a secret,
tasted like a threat.

And if she's not careful,
He'll carve her into his story,
pen first, then teeth.

She's the poem he should've burned.
But he inked her into his skin instead.

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Dedication

For the ones who begged to be touched gently,
and loved it more when they were wrecked.

For the ones who tried to be soft 
but were only ever good at burning.

And for the ones I shouldn't have written about.
But did.