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Reality is cruel.
Fate is cruel.
You were cruel.
And me—
I’m no better.

Maybe I’m just…
Empty.

Not even lonely.
Just hollow. Void. Unmoving.
Unreal.

And now— I’m alone.
So alone.

I don’t know where I am.
I don’t know who I am.
I am clueless. I am lost.

"Help me."
"Miss me."
"Love me."
"And Tell me—why?"

Maybe one day—
I’ll begin to fill myself.
Because in the end,
no one else will do it.
No one else ever would.

But for now…
I’m just—
empty.

— The End —

© 2025 June, Hasanur Rahman Shaikh.
All rights reserved.
“Some loves end quietly. Others echo forever.”

It is not a cry for attention, but a whispered acknowledgment of being stripped of feeling. A poem about heartbreak, abandonment, and the quiet ruin that follows. It’s not just about losing someone—it’s about losing yourself.
You’re the reason every song turns into a requiem.
Even the happy ones bend under the weight of your name.

The reason love walks with a blade behind its back,
because you turned it into something I had to survive.

You’re the reason
breathing feels borrowed.
Like I’m stuck in a waiting room
with no doors,
no answers,
just clocks that won’t tick
and memories that don’t know how to leave.

You’re the reason I bleed into pages,
why I stretch sorrow into sentences,
why I carve light
from the ruins.

You taught me grief in its native language,
how to cradle absence like a relic,
how to shape silence into meaning.

You’re the reason I learned to cradle longing
instead of trying to cure it.
To live inside the hollow
and still find warmth.

You’re the reason I know
that love and loss
can belong to the same moment.

You are my reason.
The one that never left.
Who is your reason?
Elizabeth 13h
You figure you're 18, okay
You wanna go outside, alright
First, stumble into a fight
Thinking you'll be okay and alright
Then they say it's all in your brain
But I didn't buy a ticket for this train


Before you know it,
It feels like the world is falling apart
I guess I'll have to take it all to heart
Now you failed me again
What am I doing up at 3 am?


Now I have been counting the stars
Hoping one leads to an answer that I want to hear.
I want to stop being dug into a grave.
While walking the earth knowing I'm not the devil's slave.


Before you know it
You are put on a million pills
Knowing you didn't want to work at the mills
Now you failed me again
What am I doing up at 3 am?


I have never seen a 17-year-old in my office before
Those words are not for the faint of heart
Yet those words tore me apart
As I stand as a mystery
I can't even think of my history


Before you know it
You are crying on your bed
Praying it is not in your head
Now you failed me again
What am I doing up at 3 am?


Doesn't your sunburn hurt? It looks bad
My tolerance is a lot higher than it used to
Like it just came out of the blue.
It doesn't feel right anymore
Like I might be an underscore.

Before you know it
You don't feel right
Why does the world seem so bright
Now you failed me again
What am I doing up at 3 am?
I'm dealing with a ton of health issues. I am always full of emotions because everyone is clueless. This poem is inspired by everything I'm dealing with and shares the mental part of physical issues.
ASLRC 14h
Tell me… Are we truly free?
Is the shirt I am wearing
Something I like
Or did everyone
Influence me?

Does my vocabulary
belong to me?
Or am I trying to
speak the language
of the majority?

Did I choose what to study
or did my study choose me
based on my own ,
limited framed ability?

Does my life as an employee,
Involve my own self
and absolute freedom
or is it all based on money?

Are thoughts, rent-free
keeping me awake
even mine? Or a
creation of society?

Can I live in my own movie?
If dancing in the street
will let people judge me
Tell me… Are we truly free?
Sophie 17h
Wrapped in my warmest wool blanket,
coldness resides in my veins.
My body aches for your embrace,
to revel in warm memories.
It was just a one time mistake...
The ghost of your cologne,
lingering faintly above the detergent’s scent,
makes my nausea strangle with warning.
You don’t love me- otherwise your
scent wouldn’t be on her bed too.

—Betrayal is not a mistake; it's a choice that reveals character.
"I killed someone"
I cried
The Dreamer
The Wanderer
The one whose imagination
Rivals that of the Gods
I never meant to
I just wanted more control
Being a dreamer as it downsides
Determined to be disciplined
I trained
But in reality
I was killing my creativity
It happened so suddenly
Is what I tell myself
But I felt her dieing
Saw all the warnings
But I never fought for her
I watched as she slipped away
Tears stained her flawless face
"I forgive you"
She uttered
At that moment
Something died within me
Irreplaceable,
It can never be revived
My Muse is forever dead
And I eternally locked from it domain
Someone new took it's place
I fought.
Every second of my life
Etched in pain.
I faced it.
I won.
It changed me.
I learned.

I unlearned the so-called truths,
Every sacred teaching
Of life.
And relearned it myself—
From the best teacher:
Life.

She taught me all.
My favorite woman.
Whether pain or pleasure,
I loved her just the same.
She whispered secrets
Of existence, society, and everything in between.

Many times, I nearly died.
But I survived.

Then came sin—
My chosen curriculum.

I built my deadliest sins
And wore them like armor:
My vanity rivals even God's.
I cannot fail. It's impossible!

My greed keeps me sharp,
Focused, burning.
I want what I want.

My lust—
Not only for ***,
But for victory.
To see this world
Brought to its knees.

A cosmic hunger.

My gluttony?
It drives me to take on
More than I should—
And still, I surpass.

My apathy—
That cold, uncaring monster—
Is my shield.
A necessary evil.

Everything else is obsolete.
Even virtue.

If you plan to survive in this world:
Abandon all virtues.
There is no God above.

You are God.
We are Gods.

Do not let the devil of *******
Use society's illusion of order
To chain your will
And drain your soul.

You are a creature of change.
Change is chaos.
Chaos is life.
Life is God.
God is me.
I am you.
You are us.

Heed this message:
Survival is not the goal.
Possession is not the goal.
Happiness is not the goal.

Chaos is.

The only permanent truth
Is impermanence.

So go.
Unleash the world.
Restore it to its natural order—
CHAOS!
Wow, it been a while, writers block had me chained to emptiness. But I'm back now!
ASLRC 1d
Life is beautiful but
Would the wind whisper love in my ear
When I am hanging there?

Life is short but
Would the sea hug me
Or would it just erase my name?

Life is exciting but
Would the fire make my heart warm
Or would it burn my memories?

Pain is temporary but
Would the pills heal my unloved heart
And would my blood paint my life-story?

Everything will be fine but
Will the floor kiss me passionately
Or will it break my heart even more?

I already tried, I took silver liquid
And combined it with strawberry milk
But it did more bad than worse

Will my parents be so proud
If I lay there in a pretty dress?
Zywa 1d
Ouch, I fall down the

mountain, getting up hurts, I --


feel like a winner.
Autobiographical book "Heden ik" ("Today for me", 1993, Renate Dorrestein), about ME/CFS (myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome), chapter 'First act' - Hodie mihi, cras tibi (today for me, tomorrow for thee)

Collection "Old sore"
Birdie 1d
Unfortunately I did it again,
I fell for the daydream,
I idolised men.
Now predictably I’m in way over my head,
Your presence I’m used to,
Your breathing in bed.
You’re part of the furniture now,
We can’t stay away,
Your love is a grass stain,
I can’t wash away.
Fell for someone who won’t fall for me. Again.
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