Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Hunter 3d
It commenced not in the ordinary,
No, it carried a profound yearning,
A yearning to be cherished, not reviled,
To be esteemed, not deemed average,
To experience something, not nothing.

Gradually, it evolved beyond that,
Becoming my sole wellspring of joy,
Aware of the inherent imbalance,
Yet, akin to all my remorseful attachments,
I found myself unable to let go.

The concept of letting go eluded me,
A foreign notion, seemingly distant,
Yet, akin to the frigid days of February,
I understood it would conclude someday,
Nonetheless, I persisted,
Holding on tenaciously.

As the days stretched out,
Snow gave way to melting streams,
Blooms emerged from their wintry cocoon,
And akin to the scorching heat of summer,
My affection blazed brighter than stars.

Picture winning a grand lottery,
That's how it felt,
A sensation of prevailing in life,
The notion of letting go never occurred,
It seemed unnecessary.

Then came September,
A month I abhor with fervor,
When everything crumbled beneath,
Love waned,
Evaporating like recollections of better days,
And the embers of letting go flickered anew.

Fear settled in,
Reluctant to relinquish,
I convinced myself it would mend,
For I acknowledged,
I couldn't let go.

Etched clearly in my consciousness,
That's the date it unfolded,
The day I dreaded,
The day I was compelled to let go.

Anticipated as it was,
Those phrases,
"This isn't healthy,"
"It's irreparable,"
"I'm sorry,"
Tore me asunder.

Here I am,
Penning this poem,
Still in pain,
Still shattered,
Rife with remorse.

Such is life,
A journey void of utopian conclusions,
A cycle that persists,
Until the day we depart,
Until the day we dissolve,
Until the day we finally let go."
Realeboga M Nov 11
Never thought I would come back to this.
A part two never made sense.
Especially since I hoped that at some point we would be friends.
Didn't really think that things would end so tense.

I told myself that with you ego would ruin me.
That if I couldn't go to you, then there's none I'd confide.
If it wasn't you I could run to. Then I would always hide.

I thought that I would only see colour with you.
That our places, would belong to us only.
The vibrant colours would belong to us only.
Just like the song you wrote for me.
I truly believed that it belonged to us only.

Little did I know.
It was not my ego that would ruin me.
But yours.

You told me that this song was ours.
That it would keep the colours alive.
No matter what.

I know I told you that these places are not mine alone.
Not matter how much colour has drained from my eyes.
They remain beautiful to others.
I know what I said.

I just never thought you would be the one to drain them from everyone.
That you would forget me and change the narrative.

It was your heart on my sleeve.
It was my heart on yours.
It was our place.
Drained of colour to us but so bright to everyone.

But your ego chose to forget me.
Just like your heart decided to let go.

Who would have thought.
That it was not the poet that changed the narrative.
But the artist that really wanted a platinum on their creative.

**** man.
All along.
I thought that this would be our song.
That regardless of the pain we both experienced.
That this. No matter what would be ours.

My poems to you are yours.
But your songs to me are theirs.
Tell me that's fair.
You told me I took you places. Yet you changed everything
Emily Jane Oct 13
My bones ache
My eyes are hot and raw
I am utterly cast out to sea
Treading water in a vast expanse of terrifying blue turbulence
I shout into the empty nothingness
Driving the air out of my lungs to call for you
"Where are you?"
"Please don't leave"
"I am not ready..."
But you are gone
and my voice echoes in the deep
like the devastating and futile cries of the last Kauaʻi ʻōʻō bird searching for a mate who will not come
So this is heartbreak?
I wish heartbreak
came with a manual.
But honestly,
would it even help?
I imagine it would
be contradicting and maybe
go something like this:
"You may experience
the feeling that you are walking away
from the rarest love you'll ever experience...
But don't you worry,
because even if you stay a little longer,
eventually you'll convince yourself
you don't love them anymore, just enough to finally
end it.
Give it a week.
Oh, there it is... You feel that?
THAT feeling is the numbness wearing off
and only remembering the happy parts."
Or some ******* like that.
Probably nothing that specific though...
Only enough to have the majority relate.
I imagine the narrator would sound
overly enthusiastic...Which is hilariously inappropriate ...
But, really, is it that hilarious?

I thought getting older and
having experience in dating
would result in all of this
**** becoming less confusing...
But it really just feels worse
every time for me.
At the end,
I couldn't even differentiate
the pain and anger from the source.
Did he create this suffering?
Was it my reaction that set the course?
Was this all in my head and I was just overeacting?
Or was I justified to feel this ******?
Even if I was justified, would it have even made a difference?
It really got lost in translation,
and I feel like I got lost in identifying that.
Was this a hypnotic trance from narcissism manipulating the narration or was it using my reaction as an excuse to self-sabotage?
I just want to know what really happened.
I think that's the scariest part.
Am I so broken, I convince myself it was them?
Well, ****.
What are you still reading for?
I don't have the ******* answer.
in the shadows of retrospection, a somber truth unfolds, draped in the shroud of honesty. it's a reality i must face; it's better off this way.

you were already broken, a fractured soul wandering through the desolate corridors of existence. yet, you made a choice, a cruel decision, to shatter me as well. it's a harsh reality to digest, for nine months seemed too brief a span to bid farewell.

but now, looking back, those nine months appear as a mirage, a deceitful illusion. the person i thought i knew, the person i fell in love with, was nothing more than a phantom masquerading as reality.

our late-night rendezvous, the echoes of our laughter lost in the void, our spontaneous road trips to escape a mundane world and the culinary escapades that once ignited our senses - all of it, mere fragments of a fabricated tale.

our weekly staycations, where the world faded into insignificance, replaced by the universe we created, now reduced to the ashes of fiction. it dawns on me that it was all too good to be true.

in this realm of disillusionment, i find solace in the brutal honesty that it's better off this way. for sometimes, darkness unveils the most profound revelations, and in this darkness, i must find my light.
it's better off this way
Joker Aug 23
my heart is full of ache

I am slow to learn
and quick to mistake

All the progress
that I manage to make
One grave error
and it all seems fake

Years are running out
and much is at stake

my heart is full of ache
Typewriter1 Aug 20

i brought one ticket to my grad, knowing he won’t be there knowing imma be sitting in a seat looking at the door just hoping that maybe he will walk through and maybe this was a dream maybe we didn’t break up maybe he still cares, maybe my family will stop asking how he’s doing because he’s with you. Just maybe I could be happy again. Maybe the nights won’t continue to seem long maybe my days are filled with smiles maybe I will always have him on my mind. Maybe that one day I’ll be able to forgive myself for letting you go. Maybe I won’t be the one crying myself to sleep, crying and begging my friends on why he left, just maybe I’ll find peace in all this chaos and maybe I’ll be me again.
Just maybe.
Next page