#hurt poems on Hello Poetry

Rain 9h

Who's the psychopath,
Laughing his own cruel jokes?
It's all a crude game,
People's pain.
Oh, she looks OK,
Finally feeling some joy, Let me take that away,
Laugh when she's no more feeling OK.
She wonders what she did to deserve this.
Being the victim of you.
Now she's convinced she bought this on herself.
But little girl, you're innocent.
He feels he must hurt you.
Take the ground beneath your feet,
As soon as you start to heal, Shoots a detrimental thought,
That cuts.
She thinks she's his only,
We all think we're his favorite.
Just stay away from all of us.

#depression #alone #hurt #scare #controlling

Kyla 1d

wilderness

the boy loved God so much
he had no love left for me
i poured my love into his overflowing soul
and ended up in a biblical proportion drought of my own making

it’s hard to love the source of your lack of love

#love #hurt #breakup #heartbreak #bible #god

Breann 2d

Running Dry

“I like you.”—but not enough.
Not enough to stay, to care,
To see the way I withered,
Piece by piece, beneath your weight.

You took what you needed,
A hand to hold, a heart to lean on,
And I gave until I was nothing,
Until even my shadow felt thin.

Now there’s nothing left to take.
No warmth, no light, no fight.
I have run dry, drained hollow—
I hope I was enough to quench your thirst.

#sad #feeling #hurt #alone #relationships #life #love

Odd Odyssey Poet 2d

"Friends"

Interluding stolen kisses, as fleeting thoughts
traverse the corridors of time; often acting less
of our true selves in a desperate bid to win the
affection of those we hope to love - to be loved
But all bets are off, once the cards are laid bare
upon the table – as the choice to remain or depart
hinges on how long you are willing and able.

But if I'm falling, dreaming, waiting... in a caged
thought; plotting, scheming, believing that one's
love should also keep its word; can it truly hold
more weight than those three burdensome words?

And I hope they aren’t words more so said, less
expressed, or expressed in public, but having no
real private impression — just making up stories
for the press, as the headline reads you've been
pressing all my wrong buttons, I'm pressed.
"I love you," if that is your declaration, I guess –
as some loves are just for period of time; acting
as an interval. But also, the ones that are so hard
to forget. But I wouldn’t remember you as a lover,
but someone who was once a friend - just friends.

#love #hurt #heart #friends #poetry

B 2d

The Red Corner

Once in a while I realize
I am really addicted to the pain
This addiction gives no prize
Only giving me more to strain
The red corner
Stares at me blankly
I should be dead at the shore
I’ll just have to use this shank
CPR on wounds will never go so great
Bleeding more will my nails have done
The one I love is not my mate
He's just there to have some fun

#selfharm #cutting #pain #love #addiction #hurt #sadness

Lance Remir 2d

Everything That Was Me

You didn't just break my heart
You broke the future I was working for
You broke the dreams that I always had
You took away the hopes and smiles I had
You took away the sweat and tears I shed
You robbed me from knowing love
You robbed me from knowing closure
You destroyed my sense of self
You destroyed my motivations
You didn't just break my heart
You broke everything that was me

#heartbreak #love #romance #betrayal #identity #destroyed #hurt #broken

Odd Odyssey Poet 3d

Perhaps I forget my role, more than I forget myself

Our fresh starts are merely ancient tales played out in new
roles… Drop me off at the edge of time— with the subtle
notes to the steps of love; alas, it's only a footnote. Bearing
heavy thoughts as the wearer of this crown— wear me
down; preoccupied with the relentless question of,
'where do we stand now?'

Torn in two; we are the wounds that stitched us together,
only to fall in love. I'm still scarred, only this time I chose to
bring it all on myself. Sympathized symphonies— where
all these falling tears don't fall from your eyes, but from
the heavens crying out at night.

Though time grows wise the longer it runs; why do I persist
on chasing time, as if there exists a finish line... In hopes that
loving you would grant me wisdom on how to love you better;
spending more time in this chase - or how the story goes.

The boy who chases after a wife, often neglects to transform
the title to HIS wife. Fresh starts that are merely ancient tales
played out in new roles. But who really owns up to their role
at all?

#love #scars #hurt #society #roles #sad #poetry

Luna Saturne 3d

Thief of Joy

As Roosevelt said,
“Comparison is the thief of joy.”
Six simple words—
struck something deep,
A truth felt,
But never named.

We measure ourselves
against strangers and friends alike,
whispering,
“I want what they have.”
And just like that,
our joy slips through the cracks.

Comparison breeds envy,
envy turns to bitterness.
“Why them? Why not me?”
we ask,
as if fairness follows longing.

But truth is—
they’re likely looking back at you,
thinking
the *******
same

#comparison #self #worth #truth #love #hurt #grass #greener #quote #feeling

GNF - Glasshouse 5d

The Forbidden Love Series. (Part 2)

Part two
19 June 2023

"The Kiss I Can’t Survive" - V
It starts like a whisper—
barely there—
a flicker behind my ribs,
a soft sting beneath my skin,
then suddenly—
you’re everywhere.
You're in my bloodstream,
in my breath,
in every ******* thought I swore I buried.
You show up
like you never left.
And I forget.
I forget how bad it gets.
I forget how you break me.
Because God—
you make me feel so alive.
You make me feel like I matter.
Like I’m not a ghost wearing skin.
Like someone, something—you—
see me.

Touch me.

Hold me.

You kissed my skin like it was the last thing worth loving.
You wrapped me up in lies that felt like lullabies.
And I let you.
Every. ****. Time.
I miss you like sinners miss heaven.
Like lungs miss air after the scream.
Like a broken heart misses the hand that shattered it.
I ache for you.
Do you hear me?
I ache—
bone-deep, soul-shaking,
nails-digging-into-my-own-skin ache.
Because every blood-red kiss you left on me
felt like poetry.
Like maybe I was art.
Like maybe pain was the only language
I ever truly spoke.
You gave me peace.
The kind that cuts.
The kind that hushes every voice in my head
and replaces it with one

Yours.

And you whispered:
"You're still alive."
And I believed you,
because only you could make me feel
in a world that went numb.
But that silence—
that still, dangerous silence—
was never safety.

It was a funeral.

A ritual.

A sacrifice.

And I was always the offering.
I want you.
God, I want you like fire wants air.
Like waves want to crash.
Like hands want to hold the blade
just to feel something again.
But if I give in—
if I even taste you—
I don’t come back.
Not this time.
Because you are not a memory.
You are a trap.
A tightrope strung between life and death.
One wrong step—
and I’m gone.
I gave you power once.
I let you reign.
Bowed my head and called it devotion.
Worshipped you with my wounds
and asked for nothing in return but relief.
I laid myself at your feet like a ******* prayer.
But even holy things can **** you.
Even gods can leave you bleeding.
And now?
Now I burn for you
in silence.
In defiance.
With every ounce of love that still claws inside me

I walk away.
Because loving you
is choosing the end.
And I still have stories left to write.
So I let you go.
With trembling hands
and fire in my chest.
I let you go—
not because I want to,
but because I have to.
Because if I say yes to you again—
I say no to everything else.
To healing.
To hope.
To life.

This is Part Two of the Forbidden Love Series.
The title of the poem is "The Kiss I Can't survive "

#hurt #growth #love #selflove #life #sh #adult