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leeaaun Nov 25
In the intricate tapestry of love,
the adage "once a cheater, always a cheater"
weaves a cautionary thread.

It is a phrase laden with the weight of experience,
a mantra that whispers of broken trust and shattered vows.

When someone treads the path of betrayal,
leaving the fragments of a once-whole heart in their wake,
the scars run deep.

The echoes of deceit reverberate
in the corridors of love,
leaving those who have been wounded hesitant to trust again.

The notion, "once a cheater, always a cheater," emerges as a defense mechanism,
a shield against the vulnerability of being deceived once more.

Yet, in the realm of love,
the narrative isn't always so black and white.
People evolve, learn from their mistakes, and yearn for redemption.

It's crucial to acknowledge the capacity for change
within each individual.
While the wounds of betrayal may linger,
they need not dictate the course of someone's entire romantic journey.

The human experience is multifaceted, and relationships are complex landscapes.

People stumble, fall, and sometimes, they rise anew, reshaped by the crucible of their own errors.

Love, at its essence, encompasses forgiveness, growth, and the possibility of second chances.

So, while the cautionary phrase carries the weight of wisdom,
it is equally important to recognize the potential for transformation.

People can break free from the chains of their past misdeeds,
learn to value trust, and construct relationships founded on honesty and integrity.

Love, after all, is as much about healing as it is about the initial spark.

In the end the tale of "once a cheater, always a cheater"
is not a universal truth
but rather a reminder that love demands conscientious navigation.

It prompts us to approach relationships with discernment,
to treasure the fragility of trust,
and to foster an environment where growth and change are not only possible but celebrated.
David J Nov 20
Like a line in a book, Foreshadowing, glimpsing beyond this chapter

The books pages are so thin,
And so exposed to the elements

I heard the chimes of my grandfather’s clock
And for a moment, took in my surroundings
Time it seems…
is starting to scare me
Yanamari Oct 23
Hearts of steel don't exist
As hearts are fragile
Like glass thin and shapen
Taking on the pattern of rhythmic pulses
Blood racing to where our hearts are led

Hearts are fragile
Such that the heartless cannot fathom
The jagged sharp pieces ripping inside
And so they empty their chest
So that they can only see with their eyes
For if their heart controlled their eyes
They would turn blind
No heart in the slashes formed
No eyes in the heart that overwhelms the soul
Senses returning to base level zero

Hearts can only take so much
And if it were to break
How could it heal to the way that it used to be?
many will know the beauty
of a butterfly's wing
and the delicate intricacy
of their decoration
those swathes of colour
meandering boldly in flight
a proclamation of
             their presence
             their providence
whose startling eyespots
can mimic the stolid gaze
of the stern and the alluring
observing in judgement
or perhaps in wonder
blinking only as they flutter
flattered disbelieving
yet there are reminders
in that Rorschach patterning
that those with ill intent
should observe
threats and
             warnings overlooked
by those in admiration
of such beauty
where few will heed
that gossamer fragility
broken by any
not considerate enough
in their handling
Ghxstcxt Jul 5
All talk no action
not even a fraction
Surmount humility
Profound inaction
Abound rigidity
Tall walk short stature
The American way
Work force pays for the
CEOs big payday
Do as I say
Not do as I do
Under the guise of
"we want to improve"
It's so easy to see
their ego's fragility
with the words they use
Nigdaw May 19
it's not that I'm antisocial
that I want to be alone
or friends are an intrusion
to my fragile state of mind
it's just that I'm protecting you
from the madness behind
my eyes
Heidi Franke Apr 27
Held like this
A cupped hand of water
held still
that not a drop
enters gravity's pull.

Held like this
The hens egg.
Rounded palms together
without allowance of pressure
that would crush the shell.
Frail possessions.

These are days she remembers beyond all vicissitudes she faced.
Not jagged. Not stewing or careless.

This untainted moment
of protection
for something that will give back.

A drop of water
becomes a cup that was
dry as a bone.
The egg becomes
a breakfast feast
weary of starvation.

Hold life like this. Prudent,
tender and earnest.
These times she keeps
for consideration.
Nikki Apr 20
My inexperienced and innocent little heart
So eager to learn, have adventures
Even collect a few scars
Whatever it takes to feel alive
To feel something

Skipping a beat at the very thought
Positively nervous with anticipation
Yet enveloped by dark clouds
A constant reminder of the truth
That systematically crushes every speck of hope
Odd Odyssey Poet Jul 2022
Thin wire, overzealous leading to being over tired...
an over reliance on the hopes of being reinspired,
The burning thoughts; of a migraine constantly on fire.

Ten thousand shots in my head—ba, ba, ba, ba,
swimming over my depths, trying my best to breathe;
all the while in still waters choking my neck. Some live
too a life of the dead.

I'm singing a song, better sounding inside—la, la, la, la,
It goes while I'm looking in the mirror, seeing myself and my
self enemy. Who's betting on their works, to seem like a better
version of themself/me?

Letting be of the many ways I try to appear calm in some days.
Hunger in my eyes; starved of the sights of true love.
But the dirtiest intentions, has my face fully covered in mud.
I give and give, but these returns are never enough.
But plenty are the voices in my head, battling constantly—blah, blah, blah, blah, as no-one else hears this cracking glass in my chest.

I figure we're all fragile figures, in the end.
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