BEAUTIFULLY BROKEN

 I keep your promises like a loaded gun,

And fire them into dreams before the dawn.

The fading night still echoes what you’ve done,

A shadow tracing where your warmth has gone.

In every sudden silence, you remain

A heavy ghost inside the empty space.

I linger on the borderlands of pain,

Where lost and found are impossible to trace.

The twilight blurs the edges of the room,

Your voice, a whisper in the evening haze.

A phantom echo drifting through the gloom,

To trap me in the labyrinth of your gaze.

Two reckless hearts that spin around, undone,

I stop pretending everything is fine.

I’d rather break beneath a rising sun

Than end this endless sake of yours and mine.

The daylight bleeds across the bedroom floor,

To sweep away the wreckage of the night.

Yet still, I brace against the closing door,

And surrender to the ghost I cannot fight.

©Diana Mistera

THE QUESTION THAT REMAINS

 I swallowed stars

and still remain unfit.

I smile at the wrongs

until despair becomes my home.

I pray to find my way back home,

but my prayers get lost in eternity.

You know, time is a liar,

wearing hundreds of mortal masks.

Along the way, the void

became what you called soul.

Existence became a wound

that never bled,

and the blade is what drives it home.

And in the drift of days,

I am a question

that still remains unfold.

©Diana Mistera 

ETERNAL LOVE

The moon reveals

what daylight tries to hide.

My thirst is older

than the stars above,

an eternal love

that time cannot erase.

Still, I remain—

aching beyond eternity,

loving beyond death,

forever reaching for you

through every life

the universe allows.

©Diana Mistera

OUTSIDE THE GATES

 Outside the gates,

I counted to seven—

and I fell down.

My memories still intact,

I looked around and felt:

”this is not my world.”

Since when did love become

illegal, wanted, indiscriminate?

My will, will not survive in here.

I see eyes full of fear,

full of tears,

as if something is missing.

Everyone is alone.

Everybody is a stranger.

And I wonder…

Does anybody feel

my heart,

my love?

And then I understood:

What is missing

is what they seek.

©Diana Mistera

DO YOU HEAR ME STILL?

 Do you hear me still,

somewhere beyond the silence?

Do you feel my heart

when it whispers your name?

If this love is forever,

why does it hurt so much?

Why does every memory

still tremble beneath my touch?

I hold on to the moments

we promised would never fade,

to every “always,” every “forever,”

to the dreams our hearts once made.

But forever feels lonely

when I’m holding it alone.

And love can be beautiful

even when it breaks your home.

So I keep asking the darkness,

hoping somehow you’ll hear:

If our love was meant to last,

why does losing you feel so near?

Maybe forever isn't time.

Maybe it’s what love leaves behind—

a voice that stays in the silence,

a name that lives in the mind.

Do you hear me still?

I’m still here, somehow.

If this love is forever,

maybe I’m learning how

to love you without holding you,

to remember without pain,

and to let forever be forever—

even if you never come again. 

© Diana Mistera

ANSWER

I asked the universe

if I should let you go.

I waited in silence,

with my heart suspended

The pendulum swayed,

slow, solemn

and stopped on no.

But the truth

arrived before the answer.

Because even if the universe

had whispered yes,

even if the whole sky

had asked me to let you go,

I wouldn’t have been able to.

You are in my soul.

You are my soul.

How do you let go

of a part of yourself?

How do you untie

what has become your roots?

This is not love that rests lightly 

it is love that dwells within.

And what dwells within

cannot be torn away 

it simply is. 

©Diana Mistera 

A PERFECT STRANGER

A perfect stranger

Looks back at me from the mirror,

Eyes like mine but colder,

A hollow flame flickering where my soul should be.

It steals my shadow

And walks my footsteps,

Tracing paths I thought were mine,

Filling my rooms with whispers

That taste like my own name.

I scream, but my voice

Is swallowed by glass,

And my hands pass through the reflection

As if it were smoke.

It wears my skin,

Learns my laugh,

Sleeps in my bed,

And eats my meals,

A ghost learning to live in my life.

I wake to find it waiting,

Smiling in the mirror with patience I cannot match.

Each day I shrink,

A fading silhouette behind its rising presence,

My memories dripping into its eyes.

And one night, I vanish completely,

The stranger steps out,

Perfect in every line,

Walking my streets,

Living my life,

While I linger

Only in the darkness

Behind the glass,

A shadow of a self

That never existed.

©Diana Mistera 

NIGHTBOUND

 And here we are again,

at the precise threshold where shadows congeal

and the night stills its breath.

There is no wonder left in our gaze:

we have been waiting for one another

since before memory.

Your summons asks no mercy.

It slips through me like a slow, devouring fever.

I resist,

yet my flesh knows you

long before my will dares to.

We were never torn apart

only bound by an unseen thread

drawn tight in the dark.

The moon stands full,

a pale and pitiless witness to our returns.

It exposes what I have buried

and delivers you to me

like a beautiful damnation.

Your blue eyes,

deep and perilous as midnight waters,

hold me without haste.

Within your smile sleeps a vow

that refuses the shape of words.

My heart slows,

as though it is yielding to fate.

The love I bear is not made of light.

It is gravity.

It drags me inward,

hollows me,

erases my names.

Every adjective shatters,

every word kneels.

I, who once mastered language,

stand silent before you.

Only the pull remains

the dark magnetism,

the forbidden attraction

throbbing beneath the skin.

You, legend wrought of night,

eternal wanderer of my shadows,

marked me without a touch,

wounded me where no armor exists.

I love you profoundly,

even as I attempt escape,

even as I lose myself to the abyss.

For whatever path I choose,

the night will always return me to you.

©Diana Mistera

DEVOTION

I build this shrine from ashes

each brick carved by my love for you,

each heartbeat laid, a relic to adore.

You are the spark that sings inside my soul,

a flame burning in my chest,

the pulse beneath it.

Each sight, a verse the light remembers.

Stars tremble, and time forgets to move.

Two fires feeding the same desire.

In our gazes, I see our reflection burning

a truth too fierce to stay hidden.

We are fire tasting fire.

Even the dark knew our names,

whispered them like a secret prayer,

a quiet worship between ruin and rebirth.

Even silence hums our name.

In your gaze, I find the divine undone

a pulse, a sigh, a promise breaking open.

No heaven can contain this hunger,

no prayer can tame its flame.

What is love, if not the art of burning

and calling it devotion?

Here, in the burn of our embrace,

I am whole.

So when the night forgets our names,

it will remember our flame.

© Diana Mistera