Damned

Love, in its purest form, is often spoken of as salvation. In Damned, it becomes something far more dangerous.

Across fourteen haunting poems, a solitary voice wrestles with devotion that refuses to fade—even when it is unreturned, forbidden, or destined to end. The speaker loves with a fervor that borders on worship, holding a beloved who drifts ever further away: toward ambition, toward another life, toward a world where she no longer belongs. Yet she remains—torn between faith and resentment, hope and resignation—building entire worlds out of stolen moments, whispered prayers, and memories that refuse to die.

From quiet longing to bitter revelation, Damned traces the slow transformation of a lover who gives everything and receives silence in return. It is a meditation on the loneliness of loving too deeply, the fragile illusion of forever, and the quiet strength forged in heartbreak.

Tender, intimate, and devastatingly honest, Damned asks a simple question:

What becomes of a heart that refuses to stop loving—even when love itself becomes its undoing?