If only these words could mend a broken heart, Or a poem could capture each cherished thought. I would take this artist's brush in hand, to trace your likeness upon a canvas. As you were, beside my heart, together evermore.

In a realm of dreams from long ago, A bard would sing to a room hushed in silence. With his voice, he’d weave each verse. A song of magic to bind us. Our essence, drawn beautifully together. In a lover's poem, the unseen nature of a flower in bloom, perfectly captured within a portrait.

Woven into the fabric of time itself, through tales of loss and tragedy. Here lies the true purpose of an artist's endeavor: To reveal the hidden beauty within sorrow. For even a broken heart reflects our capacity, our strength, beautifully created. A painted portrait of resilience, found within the depths of our spirits. As it thrives in our unconquerable ability to love.

💡LightInDarkness 🌑 ©JFO👥2024

History is prophecy
the end is how it starts
we're gonna fall in love you see
then leave with half a heart
but you can only hit a bullseye if you throw a dart
so take a chance, come with me and sniff glue up the park

His story is her's you see
Venus bound to Mars
born into one world are we
those sharpened words were ours
we landed in the gutter after aiming for the stars
maybe we should have stuck to sniffing glue in cars

We argued at the alter
couldnt say "I do"
too much like an admission
you me as I blamed you
we broke the celebration
we broke the family do
we even broke the vicar who turned to sniffing glue

So I hear your heart is broken
mine is broken too
Yes it f@#king rotten
alas...I got some glue
you can take a big sniff & I can take one two
go to that park, fix our hearts and be the kids we knew

perhaps
you forgot
that writers
adore broken
hearts.

Broken
hearts
speak,

The same
language.

Even if
they're healed,

There's still
some battered
up debris left
in their hearts.

We
hearts talk
understanding
hurt.

All rights and
Copyright belongs
to ©BSM

2021-5-18

Why the **** did I loved you so hard
That it became hard to forget you?
Why the hell, we met on that day
And I gave my heart away when I shouldn't have let you?

Why on Earth is it like this
The more you love and care for one
The more they choose to torture you
and become of someone's

The ******* *******, tears of mine
Stop spreading
He isn't worth it, my dear
Stop caring.

" Someone who will truly love you
Will always find his way to you" They said
Why the **** did I found the wrong one
Why the hell did I break my own heart?

He simply walked off, as if nothing happened
I wonder if he could do the same
to someone he truly loved?
So, I told myself
Darling, Know your worth
Pen down your thoughts
Let the anxiety release
He is never coming back and it's okay
It's okay to be alone, rather than begging someone "Please"

Master doll maker!
What if you can fix broken;
Human hearts as well.

A friend once told a girl I liked that I was obsessed with death
and I yelled and screamed as I denied it but it must have
too much for her as she walked away and never talked to me again
that night I punched the wall till my hand bled
it was that or the knife
that’s a lie I never cut myself why would I write that?
I was probably looking for attention that’s what they say isn’t it
it’s only for attention not because I don’t know how to feel
or how to deal with my emotions not because
I can’t talk to my friends
I’ll never say how much it hurts and so they’ll never know
Sometimes they do know though and they ask and I lie
Saying everything is fine when I just wait for them
to go so I can cry
but I’m just looking for attention so what do I know
now I wonder if my friend was right
the day he told a girl I liked that
I was obsessed with death truth be told
the thought of death does bring me comfort
Not suicide gods no but the idea of an
eternal sleep free of anxiety or emotions
to trouble me does seem quite tempting
and now I write poems about my emotions
trying to put into words what I don’t understand
and hoping someone relates
truth is I never liked that girl all that much
and my heart is dead but not quite
and life is grand I mean horrible and  
love is everything but also a lie and this poem
is like my mind:
a chaotic cacophony of thoughts and feelings all mixed into one.

If I cry baby would it make you stay?
My Tears and I
We’re pieces of the game you play.
Baby why , why does it have to be this way?
My Tears and I
Are pieces of the game you play.
If I
gave you my heart
It wouldn’t be enough .
The things ... The things  you make your trophy’s of .
broken... Broken hearts and long lost loves.
Decorations on the walls that you put up.

Baby if I call your name will you come to me?
If I let desire get the best of me?
Can I , hold you tight
Until there’s ecstasy?
Baby if I call you  will you Come to me?
And If I ...gave you my heart
it wouldn’t be enough.
The things ... The things you make your trophy’s of
broken ... broken hearts and long lost loves.
Decorations on the walls that you put up.

Baby what If I Scream Out for you?
I had a bad night
waking up without you
And you’re not here
So I fear
I have to face the truth
You were never here
My Love and I have no proof
And If I ...gave you my heart
it wouldn’t be enough.
The things ... The things you make your trophy’s of
broken... Broken hearts and long lost loves
Decorations on the walls that you put up.