#emotionaldetachment - Hello Poetry

A heart that is so scarred, It no longer feels. A mind that is so overwhelmed, It no longer thinks. Is this what I have become? A mindless, Expressionless, Emotionless, Girl? Life feels dull Not even black and white just mute. No pain or hurt, I have suppressed it so much None of it exists to me anymore. I could careless about anyone else right now. I would rather just float through the scenes of the rest of my life than make an effort to change what will inevitably happen. I want to throw a lot of it away. Throw it into the wind And not even watch as the things i had once worked hard for disappear. I don't give a **** about anything anymore.

0

Feb 19, 2013

Feb 19, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC

Vanzy

Don't Give a F

A heart that is so scarred, It no longer feels. A mind that is so overwhelmed, It no longer thinks. Is this what I have become? A mindless, Expressionless, Emotionless, Girl? Life feels dull Not even black and white just mute. No pain or hurt, I have suppressed it so much None of it exists to me anymore. I could careless about anyone else right now. I would rather just float through the scenes of the rest of my life than make an effort to change what will inevitably happen. I want to throw a lot of it away. Throw it into the wind And not even watch as the things i had once worked hard for disappear. I don't give a **** about anything anymore.

35

I kissed two girls, but couldn’t tell their flavouring, like mixing two liquors; burns the same… but I still call it my favourite thing Calling me passive— I’m a passive drinker; I sip, don’t settle… yet let it settle in you. A skin healer— with no need to touch, to touch you; I let you listen, feel the moment crawl under your skin— tongue tracing the tips of your ear, spelling soft sins in syllables. Light a flame beneath your breath— watch it arch into fire; we trade spits of passion, water for thirst… yet still leave each other parched. You call me hardwood— I don’t rush to leave; I just stand there… firm in silence, roots deep in habits I won’t break. So spread yourself— like leaves in their fall; no resistance in the letting… just the sound of giving it all. But if I don’t stay the extra hour—don’t mourn the moment after I leave... I was never built for permanence, just presence. Still— won’t you spark something in my trunk? pour a little more fuel in my tank… I run better on desire than I ever did on love. "Soulmates," we said it like scripture; but cellmates sounds closer— locked in a cage we called, "connection," serving a sentence that felt like a just one. I keep giving love commas— pauses, chances… but it keeps handing me a full stop. I chase it— they tell me, “fool, stop.” Still… I park in your spaces when you ask for space— stay just long enough to be remembered… then I DELETE you before you can do the same to me.

0

Apr 6

Apr 6, 2026 at 2:22 PM UTC

OddOdysseyPoet

This Shouldve Stayed Unread. DELETE!

I kissed two girls, but couldn’t tell their flavouring, like mixing two liquors; burns the same… but I still call it my favourite thing Calling me passive— I’m a passive drinker; I sip, don’t settle… yet let it settle in you. A skin healer— with no need to touch, to touch you; I let you listen, feel the moment crawl under your skin— tongue tracing the tips of your ear, spelling soft sins in syllables. Light a flame beneath your breath— watch it arch into fire; we trade spits of passion, water for thirst… yet still leave each other parched. You call me hardwood— I don’t rush to leave; I just stand there… firm in silence, roots deep in habits I won’t break. So spread yourself— like leaves in their fall; no resistance in the letting… just the sound of giving it all. But if I don’t stay the extra hour—don’t mourn the moment after I leave... I was never built for permanence, just presence. Still— won’t you spark something in my trunk? pour a little more fuel in my tank… I run better on desire than I ever did on love. "Soulmates," we said it like scripture; but cellmates sounds closer— locked in a cage we called, "connection," serving a sentence that felt like a just one. I keep giving love commas— pauses, chances… but it keeps handing me a full stop. I chase it— they tell me, “fool, stop.” Still… I park in your spaces when you ask for space— stay just long enough to be remembered… then I DELETE you before you can do the same to me.

34

I have returned all that I borrowed— the dreams,the heat, the light. I face a narrow,stark tomorrow, and welcome the coming night. I drew a line around my name, a border with no gate. Inside,the rules are not the same: there is no love,no hate. I wonder— if you reached out your hand to me, would it find anything? Or pass through where I used to be, a ghost on winter's wing?

0

Sep 19, 2025

Sep 19, 2025 at 11:07 AM UTC

shoaib005

The Circle

I have returned all that I borrowed— the dreams,the heat, the light. I face a narrow,stark tomorrow, and welcome the coming night. I drew a line around my name, a border with no gate. Inside,the rules are not the same: there is no love,no hate. I wonder— if you reached out your hand to me, would it find anything? Or pass through where I used to be, a ghost on winter's wing?

13

Любовница или наёмница, На подсосе — верная женщина. Суровых будней сподвижница — Она рядом, тихо играется. В игрушки свои наивные, Что Воин Света подкинул ей — Конфета на палке, липкая... Иди на хуй, милая девочка. 👉 Bloch-Bauer & Adele · 2020 · Signature Privée

0

Aug 1, 2025

Aug 1, 2025 at 7:32 PM UTC

BlochBauerandAdele

♠️ Любовница или наёмница

Любовница или наёмница, На подсосе — верная женщина. Суровых будней сподвижница — Она рядом, тихо играется. В игрушки свои наивные, Что Воин Света подкинул ей — Конфета на палке, липкая... Иди на хуй, милая девочка. 👉 Bloch-Bauer & Adele · 2020 · Signature Privée

9

there's hope in goodbyes as they say, a chapter ends — a new one begins. but i've come today with a different tale — take it as a story, a broken poem, or an unsent mail. got a couple good phrases, jumbled up — only i know the feeling. can't seem to sense entirely their origin, and so i'll try to pen them down, hopefully bring them a meaning. no, i ain't broken-hearted, and no, i ain't going through the same period — but this comes from the perspective of all those. let me specify — a character from the movie i recently watched, a person on the roadside i walked upon, a stray cat who waited — since forever, it seemed — for her babies to talk, and millions of those who waited for something that wasn't there at all. a closure. an answer. a little bit of understanding. but here i am, left to question it all — especially your disappearance. those unanswered texts, the quiet ache, the agony of play pretend. ghosting, the new age calls it — was that even an ending? there's a bittersweet melancholy, hoping for something that's barely there, yearning with the i'm doomed realizations, and the gentleness with which grief seems to give me a hug — it is rare. i'd wished it could be like waiting for letters in a war — knowing they would meet the soldiers even in their fall, knowing there was someone writing, waiting upon them. i've never been waited for, held, promised — been just a lost cause. the world resonates with such: echoes of conversations, words left unspoken, unseen messages pretending to be left unread. people fading from each other's lives like mist in the mornings, fungi growing on breads. i've talked to silence, left by my own. quite a few said goodbye, most left me forlorn. i stayed — same places, old memories, holding onto things that didn't plan on returning. the destinations became ghosts of the past — yet i kept writing to the same addresses. a few didn't even leave — just faded into sweet little nothings. hope, hope, oh this dear solitude — hope remained despite the static. i'm stitching this up with the remnants of what i once was. this ain't no monologue, written in the melancholy of not chosen — left for yet another job. an irony, a metaphor, no reasons — just because. i intended to keep it as a piece that reminded me of being haunted — with the memories, and the facts, and the presence of a human that held me to the edge. and yet, i find no anger, no resentment, no ill will — no praying of curses to befall and end them. there's only love, perhaps longing — belief that if it existed, it had the right to be termed as ended. only if there was a full stop — just like at the end of phrases, sentences, and even chapters — a single dot. it could have helped me move on. but no — i'm left, standing in the middle after being promised to be met halfway. never intended to be here — i'd said so in the first place. one-sided letter, bonding, or heartache. there's acceptance in solitude. i'll wear the letters of goodbye, despite knowing you never said it. please don't return only to tell me — despite no closure — it was the silence that aged.

0

May 24, 2025

May 24, 2025 at 4:43 PM UTC

poeticaofisshues

you've recieved an attachment

there's hope in goodbyes as they say, a chapter ends — a new one begins. but i've come today with a different tale — take it as a story, a broken poem, or an unsent mail. got a couple good phrases, jumbled up — only i know the feeling. can't seem to sense entirely their origin, and so i'll try to pen them down, hopefully bring them a meaning. no, i ain't broken-hearted, and no, i ain't going through the same period — but this comes from the perspective of all those. let me specify — a character from the movie i recently watched, a person on the roadside i walked upon, a stray cat who waited — since forever, it seemed — for her babies to talk, and millions of those who waited for something that wasn't there at all. a closure. an answer. a little bit of understanding. but here i am, left to question it all — especially your disappearance. those unanswered texts, the quiet ache, the agony of play pretend. ghosting, the new age calls it — was that even an ending? there's a bittersweet melancholy, hoping for something that's barely there, yearning with the i'm doomed realizations, and the gentleness with which grief seems to give me a hug — it is rare. i'd wished it could be like waiting for letters in a war — knowing they would meet the soldiers even in their fall, knowing there was someone writing, waiting upon them. i've never been waited for, held, promised — been just a lost cause. the world resonates with such: echoes of conversations, words left unspoken, unseen messages pretending to be left unread. people fading from each other's lives like mist in the mornings, fungi growing on breads. i've talked to silence, left by my own. quite a few said goodbye, most left me forlorn. i stayed — same places, old memories, holding onto things that didn't plan on returning. the destinations became ghosts of the past — yet i kept writing to the same addresses. a few didn't even leave — just faded into sweet little nothings. hope, hope, oh this dear solitude — hope remained despite the static. i'm stitching this up with the remnants of what i once was. this ain't no monologue, written in the melancholy of not chosen — left for yet another job. an irony, a metaphor, no reasons — just because. i intended to keep it as a piece that reminded me of being haunted — with the memories, and the facts, and the presence of a human that held me to the edge. and yet, i find no anger, no resentment, no ill will — no praying of curses to befall and end them. there's only love, perhaps longing — belief that if it existed, it had the right to be termed as ended. only if there was a full stop — just like at the end of phrases, sentences, and even chapters — a single dot. it could have helped me move on. but no — i'm left, standing in the middle after being promised to be met halfway. never intended to be here — i'd said so in the first place. one-sided letter, bonding, or heartache. there's acceptance in solitude. i'll wear the letters of goodbye, despite knowing you never said it. please don't return only to tell me — despite no closure — it was the silence that aged.

127

I thought we were so similar but now I see the difference You want peace and friendship While I want nothing You constantly make attempts To rebuild a scrap of friendship from the fragile bond I set a flame To re kindle a candle but hide it from inferno To delete the awkwardness and hit undo to before But I don't care And that's what scares me I thought I almost loved you But like that I'm ready to go I want to move on To hop in a car and drive away from the dust that's choking me Despite our bond the fire is done and I don't need to clean the ashes because the bond was severed and the scraps of love burned too. I thought we could be sisters The others called you that To me you were still a friend But perhaps you were more than that But with your double edged sword you stabbed our strings And cut out our hearts The others will still talk to you Worry and cry Still save you from danger Because you are thise sister But to me you are gone An empty shell And any love I felt dissipated into the air To see you killed and walk away Would no longer phase me All I think of you is hate No r eminence of emotion I thought you were a friend We were never sisters But you were always there for me Someone to talk to about the light things I couldnt discuss the pain but at least your voice could lift my hidden sorrow But then I was ripped away Pulled from you and my sisters But somehow I forgot To miss you too much I lived my life Forgot to call Simply acted as though You didn't exist at all What ever love I felt for you I learned to live without And simply forgot About the emotion I used to feel When our times were more real.

0

Feb 28, 2015

Feb 28, 2015 at 1:49 AM UTC

ThearaSteglaidias

Emotional Detachment

I thought we were so similar but now I see the difference You want peace and friendship While I want nothing You constantly make attempts To rebuild a scrap of friendship from the fragile bond I set a flame To re kindle a candle but hide it from inferno To delete the awkwardness and hit undo to before But I don't care And that's what scares me I thought I almost loved you But like that I'm ready to go I want to move on To hop in a car and drive away from the dust that's choking me Despite our bond the fire is done and I don't need to clean the ashes because the bond was severed and the scraps of love burned too. I thought we could be sisters The others called you that To me you were still a friend But perhaps you were more than that But with your double edged sword you stabbed our strings And cut out our hearts The others will still talk to you Worry and cry Still save you from danger Because you are thise sister But to me you are gone An empty shell And any love I felt dissipated into the air To see you killed and walk away Would no longer phase me All I think of you is hate No r eminence of emotion I thought you were a friend We were never sisters But you were always there for me Someone to talk to about the light things I couldnt discuss the pain but at least your voice could lift my hidden sorrow But then I was ripped away Pulled from you and my sisters But somehow I forgot To miss you too much I lived my life Forgot to call Simply acted as though You didn't exist at all What ever love I felt for you I learned to live without And simply forgot About the emotion I used to feel When our times were more real.

49