Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
That morning when I’d first heard of your departure,
I cursed the sun—how dare it beam through my window,
how dare it attempt to warm my skin?

I was filled, for just a moment,
with a rage I couldn’t swallow,
as I picked mulberries
and their juice stained my quivering lips.

Birds sang at your funeral—
their songs couldn’t drown out your father’s grief.
The same birds I’d spend months shooing away
from the fresh soil where you were laid.

For weeks, as I’d drive to work,
I’d spew hatred at the stars—
scattered so carelessly in front of me.
They mocked my loneliness with their togetherness.

I hate that you’re gone.
I hate that I know
that the stars would go on shining without me, too.
maybe one day I'll run out of grief to write about, I kinda hope so.
Letting go is not a single act-
it is art made in fragments.
Like tearing a beloved photograph
Pixel by pixel
until smile fades.

It begins with silence,
the kind that grows like moss
over memory.
You stop correcting their name
when people ask.
You stop replaying the what-ifs
like your breath depends on them

It is an unlearning-
of their laugh, their scent,
their rhythm when they walked away.
You erase them
not with fire,
but with absence.

There's no applause in this gallery.
No frame for your pain.
Just the brushstroke of each
morning
where you choose not to look back.

You start to fill your lungs with now,
to water seeds you almost forgot
to plant.
You realize your heart
was never meant to be a museum
of people who left,
but a garden
for who you're becoming.

Letting go isn't moving on-
it's moving in.
into yourself.
into peace.
into the blank space
where you finally
begin again
Toxic relationships deserve an end
Adnan Hasan May 19
Some departures we choose,
and some departures are forced upon us—
They arrive with the weight of mountains,
practiced in hesitant steps,
as if dragging the entire world behind us.
We move forward a little... then glance back a little,
for behind us lie things, dreams, souls,
to which our hearts remain tethered.
you don’t talk
to me

you make it
hard to see

it takes
two to tango

and i’m tired
of playing
guesswork

that’s got me
all tangled up
and confused.

so when you
showed up

the last time
at my door

and told me
it wasn’t meant
to be

i was certain,
for sure,
that nothing was
wrong.

but you led me
on,

and said it was
only for
your benefit

and nothing more.

now i’m ripping
the pages from this
book

because i’m
just sick of it all,

sick of writing
chapters and

sick of falling
in love.

i don’t wanna
be lonely forever

but if that’s what
it takes to heal,

then i’m so
over it—

and this time,
i want something
real.
inspired by rob thomas’s “lonely no more.”

a breakup poem about letting go of mixed signals and empty promises.
some love stories never begin—because you're meant to write your own.
Shawn Oen Apr 21
You Wanted This

You wanted this.
Not the tears, not the silence—
but the ending.
The open door.
The echo of footsteps leaving.
And for a while,
I stayed standing in the ruins,
still setting a place for you at a table
you’d already abandoned.

I begged the past to answer.
I folded memories like laundry,
hoping they’d still fit.
But love doesn’t live in a house
where one person’s already gone.

I didn’t utterly break us.
You just stopped building.
Stopped reaching.
And I wore the weight of it,
thinking if I loved hard enough,
you might feel it again.
You didn’t.

And that’s okay now.
Because I finally see it—
freedom wearing my own name,
a sunrise that doesn’t ask a teacher’s permission to rise.

You wanted this.
And now,
so do I.

Not because I stopped loving,
but because I started living
without waiting
for you to come back.

You can keep the deafening silence.
I’ll take the joyful freedom.
You can have the past—
I’m making room
for someone that stays and builds.

© 2025 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved.
I am a Phoenix….
Ronen Veil Apr 20
5 months pass, I’ve now found my way, moving on was fighting a fire
Memories made, months of bliss, now lighting a funeral pyre
A skip in time, the horizon behind. Now I have found someone better
Tells me the truth, I can’t believe lies. The fear has no cause to fetter

In this new realm, joy I now seek, my darkest days into bright nights
A soulmate and purpose, a plan of attack, on life I now set my sights
Occasional glances, ones over my shoulder, have lessened and now gone slack
My head hits the pillow, my mind all but quiet. The memories come flooding back

A place almost familiar, it takes me an instant, something’s not quite in place
Looking around, remembering where, that’s when I see her face
Effortless beauty, a touch so gentle, Her smile made seraphim cry
She walks up to me, look down, holding hands, look up, lock eyes.

The memory vivid, queue music, we dance. Rhythmically stepping on a star
The late nights, the middays. the first kiss, the last. Knowing how much would scar.
All flooding back, I know what happens, wishing this dream would last forever
A piece of myself, a fragmented soul. My heart now starts to grow heavier.

Bolting awake, a tornado of thoughts, I’m crying and I don’t know why
Pulling myself out of a slumber, my head in my hands while staring into the sky
10 years have passed, I have moved on and gotten on with life
In bed next to me, somebody stirs, Not her but the one I call wife.

I can’t quite explain it, the feeling she gave, all of my cards on the table
I always bet big, waiting for love, but everyone knows of this fable
A dream, nothing more, I couldn’t resist, I had to fly close to the sun
Accomplished my goals, beating this game, still feeling it hadn’t been won.

Conscious and aware, I look to my side, the woman repairing me still
Deserving of love, taking a chance, helping me climb up this hill
My hope and my anchor when mind starts to wander, she wakes and sees tears in my eyes
She grabs me, pulls close. Smells of lilacs and honey. The look on her face, so alive.

Smooth and gentle, whispering to me, Telling me everything’s okay
“You know who you are… You know that I love you” saving my psyche from fray
Always the words, listens and tries, never fathoming leaving her side.
She was the one. My dawn after night. In her everything I confide.
The laundry needs done.
And I'm in my bed.
Laying, sobbing, and mourning;
A life that will not come to pass.
Despising a body born more than imperfect.
Preparing to force a certain brightness to the surface.
Questioning, what else can be done?
The laundry.
The laundry needs done.
Always remember that you never know what someone is going through.
Shambhavi Mar 27
The sun’s brightness urged me to move on,
But the darkness of clouds whispered, "Stay."
Even when the brightness was stronger,
I was standing alone in the "gray."
Next page