Angeleyes30 - Hello Poetry

There may come a day when you want to come back to me— hug me, and say you’re sorry for all the pain you caused. But love doesn’t work that way. When I think of you, all I see are the countless ways you broke me. You sat there as I poured out my heart, turned off your emotions—like it was an art. You watched the pain rise in my eyes, then watched a tear slowly roll down my cheek. And all you could do was look away from me. You watched as my heart shattered, then pushed me away, like I never mattered. You didn’t just hurt me— you devastated my soul. How do you do it? And why? Sometimes, I just want to know. Maybe I loved you more than anyone else ever did. Maybe that scared you, so you hid. Or maybe, when you said you loved me— you never really did. But the answers don’t even matter. Still, after everything... I do still love you. But this is just too broken to renew. Some things are too far gone. Cracks can be mended. Shredded paper can be taped back together. But this with us— Is like shattered glass. Once it’s broken, we can’t put it back. So if the day comes that you want to apologize for leaving, I need you to picture the moment you made my heart stop beating. Go on. Soak it in. Feel it. I want you to see the tears that fell when you left— feel how they burned as they streamed down my face. Immerse yourself in the memory. Remember everything you said to me, because your words still echo in my head. I want you to feel the weight of the world rising in your chest, as you struggle to catch your breath. Imagine the one you love the most staring blankly—emotionless— as they rip out your soul. Only then can you understand the depth of my injury. Only then will your apology mean anything to me. But by the time the words I’ve been dying to hear finally fall from your lips... I will have moved on. I’ll be over this. And I’ll see that same pain in your face as I explain— you were one day too late.

0

Dec 17, 2025

Dec 17, 2025 at 11:22 PM UTC

Angeleyes30

One Day Too Late

There may come a day when you want to come back to me— hug me, and say you’re sorry for all the pain you caused. But love doesn’t work that way. When I think of you, all I see are the countless ways you broke me. You sat there as I poured out my heart, turned off your emotions—like it was an art. You watched the pain rise in my eyes, then watched a tear slowly roll down my cheek. And all you could do was look away from me. You watched as my heart shattered, then pushed me away, like I never mattered. You didn’t just hurt me— you devastated my soul. How do you do it? And why? Sometimes, I just want to know. Maybe I loved you more than anyone else ever did. Maybe that scared you, so you hid. Or maybe, when you said you loved me— you never really did. But the answers don’t even matter. Still, after everything... I do still love you. But this is just too broken to renew. Some things are too far gone. Cracks can be mended. Shredded paper can be taped back together. But this with us— Is like shattered glass. Once it’s broken, we can’t put it back. So if the day comes that you want to apologize for leaving, I need you to picture the moment you made my heart stop beating. Go on. Soak it in. Feel it. I want you to see the tears that fell when you left— feel how they burned as they streamed down my face. Immerse yourself in the memory. Remember everything you said to me, because your words still echo in my head. I want you to feel the weight of the world rising in your chest, as you struggle to catch your breath. Imagine the one you love the most staring blankly—emotionless— as they rip out your soul. Only then can you understand the depth of my injury. Only then will your apology mean anything to me. But by the time the words I’ve been dying to hear finally fall from your lips... I will have moved on. I’ll be over this. And I’ll see that same pain in your face as I explain— you were one day too late.

70

The glass is already shattered. The whole house looks like it's beaten and battered. The darkness inside of you and me has shown itself to be way more than just a shadow. His plan is as old as time—maybe even longer: weasel his way in, then… just divide and conquer. He plants his little seed, then watches from afar as we break each other's hearts. We always knew that he was there, though at first, we didn’t much care. We knew his presence was strong but thought our love would never steer us wrong. But if he can get us to turn on each other without lifting a finger—then why bother? Who better to hurt you than the one you love the most? Who better to **** a heart than its host? And instead of purging him out, we invited him in— even showed him around. We held the key to every door, but every time, chose the same as before. As you and I fought for control, he set up shop and claimed his role. We were so busy, neither of us caught it. By the time we did, it was too late to stop it. Pain, anger, and regret eventually take their toll, until we forget how it feels to be whole. The cut runs deeper still when we realize it was done by our own free will. Now the only question that remains… is what happens next when we turn the page?

0

Aug 19, 2025

Aug 19, 2025 at 11:22 AM UTC

Angeleyes30

Darkness We Invited In

The glass is already shattered. The whole house looks like it's beaten and battered. The darkness inside of you and me has shown itself to be way more than just a shadow. His plan is as old as time—maybe even longer: weasel his way in, then… just divide and conquer. He plants his little seed, then watches from afar as we break each other's hearts. We always knew that he was there, though at first, we didn’t much care. We knew his presence was strong but thought our love would never steer us wrong. But if he can get us to turn on each other without lifting a finger—then why bother? Who better to hurt you than the one you love the most? Who better to **** a heart than its host? And instead of purging him out, we invited him in— even showed him around. We held the key to every door, but every time, chose the same as before. As you and I fought for control, he set up shop and claimed his role. We were so busy, neither of us caught it. By the time we did, it was too late to stop it. Pain, anger, and regret eventually take their toll, until we forget how it feels to be whole. The cut runs deeper still when we realize it was done by our own free will. Now the only question that remains… is what happens next when we turn the page?

35

Can you just stay with me a little while? I know we aren’t together, but the only thing that fixes me is your smile. You’ve moved on and you’re gone, but my heart still aches for you. I’m a little broken and a little lost— to be found, I know the cost. I’m not asking you to love me, not asking you to sway, All I’m asking is for a little while you stay.

0

Aug 17, 2025

Aug 17, 2025 at 10:59 PM UTC

Angeleyes30

Stay

Can you just stay with me a little while? I know we aren’t together, but the only thing that fixes me is your smile. You’ve moved on and you’re gone, but my heart still aches for you. I’m a little broken and a little lost— to be found, I know the cost. I’m not asking you to love me, not asking you to sway, All I’m asking is for a little while you stay.

11

I feel the hatred dripping from my lips. I hate that you made me feel like this. As it cascades from my head to my hand, washing away the pain the way the ocean cleanses words in the sand. And just when I feel I’m on the very brink— it flows from my hand to the pen... and I transform it to ink. The hatred spews out effortlessly. Why the hell did you do this to me? I wanted to love you. I didn’t want this. But it’s too late now— you’ve touched me with hatred’s kiss. But if I hate you, then riddle me this: When I see a shooting star... why is it still for you I wish?

0

Aug 17, 2025

Aug 17, 2025 at 10:55 PM UTC

Angeleyes30

Wish

I feel the hatred dripping from my lips. I hate that you made me feel like this. As it cascades from my head to my hand, washing away the pain the way the ocean cleanses words in the sand. And just when I feel I’m on the very brink— it flows from my hand to the pen... and I transform it to ink. The hatred spews out effortlessly. Why the hell did you do this to me? I wanted to love you. I didn’t want this. But it’s too late now— you’ve touched me with hatred’s kiss. But if I hate you, then riddle me this: When I see a shooting star... why is it still for you I wish?

30