#brokenheartsclub - Hello Poetry

She left my love like a cigarette burn on velvet skin, A slow, deliberate scar—a tattoo of betrayal. Every promise twisted into barbed wire, Every "forever" a lie dissolved in ***** breath that stung like acid rain. She danced in the wreckage of my trust, a storm in satin shoes, Laughing as she struck the match, her smile a sickle moon, Fed my devotion to the fire, a pyre of petals, And called it "freedom." —a dagger wrapped in silk. Now I collect the bones of what she broke: fossils of feeling, Handfuls of "sorrys" that turned to dust like moth-wing confetti, Echoes of her name in empty rooms that hum with phantom warmth, And a ribcage full of winter. Ice where a heart once beat. Love? A fairy tale for fools who still believe in phoenixes. I know the truth now: Some fires only leave ruins —scorched earth where nothing grows.

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Apr 3

Apr 3, 2026 at 4:35 AM UTC

Charlie_Phoenix

Ash in the Shape of a Heart

She left my love like a cigarette burn on velvet skin, A slow, deliberate scar—a tattoo of betrayal. Every promise twisted into barbed wire, Every "forever" a lie dissolved in ***** breath that stung like acid rain. She danced in the wreckage of my trust, a storm in satin shoes, Laughing as she struck the match, her smile a sickle moon, Fed my devotion to the fire, a pyre of petals, And called it "freedom." —a dagger wrapped in silk. Now I collect the bones of what she broke: fossils of feeling, Handfuls of "sorrys" that turned to dust like moth-wing confetti, Echoes of her name in empty rooms that hum with phantom warmth, And a ribcage full of winter. Ice where a heart once beat. Love? A fairy tale for fools who still believe in phoenixes. I know the truth now: Some fires only leave ruins —scorched earth where nothing grows.

15

We were two matchsticks in a single box, Born side by side in silence and dust. Made to spark only when the other ignites, Destined to burn together, or not at all. Each time our flames met, the world disappeared— Just your glow and mine, trembling in the dark. We knew the fire would someday finish us, But still we chose the beautiful ruin. For lovers like us are not meant to last— We burn to give light, not to survive. Two hearts turning slowly into ash, Yet holding hands until the very end.

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Nov 25, 2025

Nov 25, 2025 at 4:51 AM UTC

Sid97

Burning Together Toward the End

We were two matchsticks in a single box, Born side by side in silence and dust. Made to spark only when the other ignites, Destined to burn together, or not at all. Each time our flames met, the world disappeared— Just your glow and mine, trembling in the dark. We knew the fire would someday finish us, But still we chose the beautiful ruin. For lovers like us are not meant to last— We burn to give light, not to survive. Two hearts turning slowly into ash, Yet holding hands until the very end.

12

The cries, the screams Ripping out the hearts Of innocent souls Tearing them to pieces The chilling smile, The evil laugh The periodic lies Repetion Repetion Killing anything in his path Making any joyful thing die Painting roses with the blood of his victims Drawing them in with a sinister act Acting as if you care But destroying them Repetition Repetition No sense of feeling No appeal for emotions Throwing around the "I love you"s Eroding Trust Creeping into minds and Hurting Everyone Regardless Of who they are And if the victim escapes.... Well.... They'd wish they were dead. The actions of my serial killer .

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Mar 23, 2021

Mar 23, 2021 at 9:43 PM UTC

withered_sys

Serial Killer

The cries, the screams Ripping out the hearts Of innocent souls Tearing them to pieces The chilling smile, The evil laugh The periodic lies Repetion Repetion Killing anything in his path Making any joyful thing die Painting roses with the blood of his victims Drawing them in with a sinister act Acting as if you care But destroying them Repetition Repetition No sense of feeling No appeal for emotions Throwing around the "I love you"s Eroding Trust Creeping into minds and Hurting Everyone Regardless Of who they are And if the victim escapes.... Well.... They'd wish they were dead. The actions of my serial killer .

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