The Door That Is Not Mine — Ayuna Dark Verse (Diary Entry 3) | The Bloody Tulip

There is something about their laughter
That I cannot stand—
So easy, so light,
Like they’ve never known
What it means to claw for anything.
Childhood for them
A sun-warmed memory,
While mine was a wilderness
I had to survive in blood.

I don’t deal in jealousy,
That’s too messy, too obvious.
I prefer precision—
A word placed just so,
A moment of distance,
The gentlest redirection.
Call it care if you want,
I call it survival.
Clearing space around what’s mine
And naming it medicine.

He said her name
Like it was sacred,
Like it belonged somewhere
I could never touch.
And I don’t punish innocence—
I’m not a monster,
No matter what they’ll write about me later.
The rules are clear.
I follow them.
Mostly.

But something pulled inside my chest,
An echo from a wound
I thought I’d buried deep enough.
I stood there, composed,
Stitches holding,
While light poured through doors
I have no right to open.
Sweet girl with her perfect laugh,
Her sun-warmed chapel life—
She doesn’t know
She’s already caught in my web,
And I’m the one
Who can’t move away.

Who is the villain here,
And who is just trying to survive?