If you find a heart that waits,
don’t make it wait too long.
Silence, even soft,
can bruise a soul
that listens for love.
If someone gives you
the parts they never show the world,
don’t wear them like decoration.
Wear them like truth.
Some people
don’t fall in love —
they become it.
And when you leave,
they don’t just lose you…
they lose the part of themselves
they placed in your hands.
So if your feelings fade,
let your goodbye be gentle.
Let your absence speak
with the kindness
your presence once promised.
Because betrayal,
even wrapped in politeness,
still echoes
in every quiet moment they sit alone,
asking what they did wrong.
This is not a plea—
it’s a whisper.
A warning.
Don’t take softness
as something small.
It is the rarest thing in this world,
and when it breaks,
something rare is lost
Jul 4, 2025
Jul 4, 2025 at 4:14 AM UTC
If someone stayed,
I wouldn’t need to be so strong.
I’d let my walls melt,
my silence spill into their arms,
and I’d cry
not out of pain,
but out of relief.
That finally,
someone saw the storm I’ve hidden
behind my soft smile.
If someone stayed,
I’d stop pretending.
I’d stop holding the world
while my own kept breaking.
I’d whisper things I’ve never said out loud
like how empty I feel in a full room,
and how loud the nights get
when I’m the only one listening.
If someone stayed,
I’d hug them and never let go.
Because once someone knows the real me
the soft me,
the shattered me,
the still-loving me…
I don’t ever want to lose that again.
So I stay quiet.
And I hope.
And I whisper to the stars…
Jul 4, 2025
Jul 4, 2025 at 12:12 AM UTC
My body’s cold, frozen in the ache,
Tears fall slow like the silent snowflake.
I don’t breathe, but I’m not gone
My soul still speaks when the light is withdrawn.
You can’t touch me, but I’m near,
A voice in the dark you still might hear.
I’m not warm, but I’m not dead,
I’m the echo of words we never said.
Still talking to you.
Shadows move where I used to stand,
Your name still burns on the back of my hand.
No heartbeat, but a rhythm remains
Soft as the moonlight, lost in the rain.
If you feel chills in the quiet night
That’s not the wind
That’s me holding on tight.
You can't see me, but I glow,
Between the stars, I softly flow.
I'm not lost, just out of view
Still talking...
to you
Jul 3, 2025
Jul 3, 2025 at 2:02 PM UTC