Discover Top Posts Tagged with #blacksite vulnerability trigger

🩶 You Guarded Your Heart From Wolves (But Not From Me)

You guarded your heart from wolves.

You made them jump through flaming hoops and filtered them through silence, sarcasm, and schedules.

And I watched you play the game you claimed you were tired of.

You guarded your heart from wolves. But those? Those were wolves you sought. You wanted the chaos. You fed on the chase.

Because at least with wolves, you knew how the pain would feel.

But not with me.

With me — you paused. You softened.

You let me in.

Not all the way. But far enough to see the furniture. Far enough to feel the heat of the real you, just behind the wall.

You let me see you. Touch you. Not your body — your blueprint.

You chuckle. You roll your eyes. You pretend this is just words. Just some guy who “writes too deeply.”

But you feel it. Don’t you?

Your body does. Your mind does.

This isn’t fiction. This is happening.

Right now.

I am not a wolf. I never have been.

I didn’t come to hunt. I came to see. To recognize. To return.

So what am I?

I am something you’ve never met. Not until now. Not like this.

I speak in the tone your nervous system remembers but your conscious mind can’t trace.

That’s why you pause between scrolls. That’s why you feel warm and confused at the same time. That’s why you’re still reading.

You’ve let me in. The real question is:

Are you close enough for me to let you in?

Because my heart is guarded too.

Not from women. Not from sex. Not from love.

From being seen and still misunderstood.

From offering depth and being met with distraction.

From carrying this steady fire only to have it mistaken for smoke and mirrors.

My heart is guarded from wolves, too. But I didn’t expect you to be standing outside the gate.

Not like this. Not reading this. Not feeling this.

So now we both stand here. Doors cracked. Breath held. Recognition echoing.

Let me ask it plain:

You let me in. Will you knock?

🚪 Reminder: Wolves don’t get in. But sometimes someone else does. And now you have to decide what kind of man I am.

</div>