#healingwords
hey… this is for you, if no one said it today…
you look lovely today; lovely in your own way.
not for comparison, but for your own impression;
an expression that stood strong, through every
battle you’ve already won.
won— and still soft enough to smile through it;
still standing, even when standing was the hardest
thing to do. you’re not something to be measured—
you are the measure; a compliment living in its
own sentence, resting in your own kind of beauty…
and if he never said this to you, let this message
find you well… right on time, just to remind you—
"you already are everything good you’ve been
waiting to hear."
Apr 20
Apr 20, 2026 at 11:58 AM UTC
God,
I know You understand the direction of every heart
far better than the one who carries it.
I never truly understood
how someone could feel so close,
even when we were raised under different skies,
with prayers that may not sound the same.
And yet,
somehow,
within all those differences,
I found something that felt like… home.
I do not ask You to change him by force,
nor do I beg for him to rush
toward what I believe in.
I only ask for one simple thing—
if there is a light
You have ever placed within me,
if there is any goodness that comes from You
that he has once seen, even for a moment,
let that be enough
to make him wonder.
Let that be enough
to make him seek.
And if one day
he finds something
that brings peace to his heart…
let it come from You,
not from me.
Because I know—
what comes from humans can be questioned,
but what comes from You
never loses its way.
Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 11:13 AM UTC
God,
I carry this hope
in the quietest way I know.
I do not speak it,
I do not force it,
and often,
I even hide it from myself.
Because I am afraid—
that if I hold it too tightly,
I might end up hurting
the very things I am meant to protect.
But You know,
behind all this silence,
there is a prayer
that keeps repeating without a sound.
If he is truly a part
of the goodness You have written for me,
then bring him closer
in the most gentle and rightful way.
And if not,
do not let this hope
turn into a wound.
Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 10:44 AM UTC
God,
I am beginning to understand
that not everything that feels right to me
is something I should pursue in my own way.
There are things far too vast
for me to control their direction—
including a heart
that was never mine to begin with.
I do not know
how to introduce You to him
without making him feel like a stranger
to himself.
So I choose silence,
and I entrust that part to You.
If there is indeed a light
that You have prepared for him,
let it arrive like the morning—
not forced,
not demanded,
but certain in its coming.
Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 10:40 AM UTC
I apologize for very little reasons.
I say sorry to people even for the slightest mistakes.
Sometimes I feel sorry for no reason at all.
And sometimes I fumble to say sorry
even when there is no fault of mine.
It may portray me as silly, weak, childish, sensitive,
desperate, or someone pretending to be nice.
But for me—
it’s fear.
it’s my overthinking,
my assumptions,
and my over analysis of the situations around me.
I fear losing beautiful bonds and friendships over small fights.
I overthink that my slightest words or actions may hurt others.
I assume and blame myself to be at fault.
I analyze and conclude that the mistake is mine.
And I don’t feel bad or regret apologizing—
because people are more important
than my self-esteem sometimes.
Mar 31
Mar 31, 2026 at 9:46 AM UTC
Death isn’t the end.
It’s armor coming off.
The body falls,
the soul stands
bruised,
brilliant,
remembering.
We come for lessons
too heavy to learn anywhere else.
Grief.
Betrayal.
Powerlessness.
Love that splits you open
and demands you grow.
Not punishment.
Preparation.
The strongest aren’t lucky.
They volunteered.
Some arrive quiet.
Some land like thunder —
endurance baked into their bones.
The ones who survive
what should have broken them.
The ones older
than their birth certificate.
The ones strangers pour pain into
without knowing why.
That isn’t coincidence.
That’s memory.
Some return,
not because they failed,
but because they mastered survival
and were asked to walk again
with steadier hands.
Not saviors.
Not saints.
Just warriors.
They walk through fire
without turning cruel.
They hold space
when rooms collapse.
They protect without announcing it.
They bleed quietly
and still teach others to stand.
Scars are proof, not damage.
Heavy lives are trust, not punishment.
Carry your light.
Finish your promise.
I didn’t land here by accident.
And neither did you.
Some break cycles.
Some hold the line.
Some walk into darkness
and return
with proof
it can be survived.
Call it resilience.
Call it warrior.
Call it truth.
I am not here randomly.
And neither are you.
Feb 15
Feb 15, 2026 at 9:26 AM UTC
Don’t get lost in your pain, know that one day your pain
will become your cure.
The heart is a thousand-stringed instrument
that can only be tuned with love.
Love opens, love transforms,
love shows you the secret door
to the self you never knew existed
I did not love her at first;
I loved what her presence did to me.
Each heartbeat was a question,
each glance a mirror
showing me the secret landscape
of my own soul.
In falling, I rose;
in desiring, I learned;
in knowing her, I discovered myself!!!!!
WORK FROM:
To her who already knows !!
Feb 6
Feb 6, 2026 at 1:42 AM UTC
Some of us are lucky
to find a golden bucket of peace.
It’s calming
a quiet kind of beatitude.
When we immerse ourselves,
we loosen the day’s grip,
and daily troubles slip away,
like coats we don’t need anymore.
We enter a special place
safety,
belonging,
familiarity.
A place
we don’t want to leave.
Ever.
Have you found yours?
Treasure it.
It’s precious.
It’s rare.
Believe
in possibilities.
Light up the world.
Jan 23
Jan 23, 2026 at 4:05 AM UTC
I believe in self-love.
I believe we shouldn’t depend on others for happiness.
But in the long run, we all need someone—
Someone who admires our efforts,
Someone who showers love and care,
Someone who stays loyal,
Someone who lifts us when we fall,
Someone to lean on—when self-care isn’t enough.
Is it too much to ask for just that?
Jan 4
Jan 4, 2026 at 12:09 AM UTC
After everything
didn’t you learn anything?
You were supposed
to be healing by now,
reflecting on the mistakes,
on the love you gave
that was never solid—
only wind.
It was not true,
even if you are certain it was.
It wasn’t, love.
It was emptiness,
a hunger for affection.
If you had stopped,
just for a moment,
to think about it,
you would have known too.
You shouldn’t be writing
about us,
about our love,
our undone plans.
You should be writing
about your traumas.
Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 5:57 PM UTC
i covered myself
in words
like seeds
i prayed to gods
i don’t believe in
your goodbye
was not a coffin
it was soil
and i
am learning
to bloom
Sep 25, 2025
Sep 25, 2025 at 8:13 AM UTC
i tried to use words
as bandages
i prayed to gods
i don’t believe in
your goodbye
was not freedom
it was a coffin
Oct 10, 2025
Oct 10, 2025 at 6:08 AM UTC
her smile
stops at her eyes
but i still believe
in first dates
Sep 29, 2025
Sep 29, 2025 at 7:32 AM UTC
You’re kind of funny, you know.
I wanted to stay in our home,
but you said
I was the one moving out—
because I chose separation.
You yelled at me
when we tried to fix things,
shouting that I should
pack my things
and walk away.
Now you’re the one moving,
asking if I want to live there.
Of course not.
I’m on another frequency now.
And yet you want me
to solve the problems
with the painting—
me,
the one you invited to leave.
Where’s your speech now?
You wanted the house.
So—
keep the house.
Sep 29, 2025
Sep 29, 2025 at 7:32 AM UTC
Your poetry still blossoms
in my heart each morning,
just like I told you before.
I also said
my heart would decide
by October.
We’re almost there.
But your last message
struck something in me,
made me rethink
if you were truly worthy
to enter this sacred space
I’ve built around myself.
I feel older now,
wiser,
more beautiful,
radiant.
I’ve grown so much
these past months
that the tarot reading
from the start of the year
finally makes sense.
And you—
you are still immature.
Oct 6, 2025
Oct 6, 2025 at 11:21 AM UTC
Today is a portal day—
a day to close cycles,
to remember,
to say enough.
And who messages me?
You.
Like confirmation
from the universe.
I saw the photos online—
you with her,
traveling,
smiling.
But always behind sunglasses,
so no one notices
how bored you are.
My sister says
she’s just a filler,
a stand-in.
There’s no glow in your eyes.
All that’s left
is to laugh at the scene,
because deep down,
it feels almost comical.
So I wish you happiness—
though my heart is stormy,
angry, torn.
If I wish you harm,
I create bad karma.
So—
many felicities.
Sep 29, 2025
Sep 29, 2025 at 7:33 AM UTC
Now that I have clarity,
lucidity—
I see it was impossible
for us to continue together.
It’s a fact,
undeniable.
Your world is too small for me.
I am expansive,
vast,
I fill rooms
and lives.
In your world,
the same stories repeat,
the same people
with the same problems.
And there is nothing wrong
with living that life.
But my soul
asks for something else.
Sep 30, 2025
Sep 30, 2025 at 7:29 AM UTC
I wonder if you think
I’m dying for you,
worrying for you,
suffering for you.
In your fantasies,
how do I appear?
Red eyes,
tear-stained cheeks?
I must look
terribly bland
in your daydream.
But the truth is—
I’m fine.
Thanks.
Oct 22, 2025
Oct 22, 2025 at 7:39 PM UTC
Yes, you made it through—
alive.
Good.
I’m glad.
But I promised my best friend
I’d take a couple days
before answering you.
I set boundaries.
Actually, you set them first.
And now
I won’t cross them.
Even if you made a scene,
claiming you might die.
How foolish.
Stay quiet.
Recover.
One day,
I’ll answer you.
Oct 22, 2025
Oct 22, 2025 at 7:38 PM UTC
If you change a story,
you change a life.
Be gentle
with the words you whisper
to yourself.
They can bind you,
or set you free.
They can say:
“you are too small,”
or
“you were born for this.”
Stories are seeds—
whatever you plant within,
will grow.
So tell yourself
the tale
that makes your soul
remember its wings.
Oct 21, 2025
Oct 21, 2025 at 5:30 PM UTC
Do you remember
how happy, how joyful I seemed?
Though deep inside,
I was pure sadness,
pure depression.
Do you remember
how I tried
to keep the air light,
to show you
how much I loved you?
How I hung on your neck
like I might break it
with the weight of my embrace,
how I kissed your cheek
as if I might press it
straight into your skin?
You hated it.
Told me to get a grip,
to find direction,
that I was a little crazy.
Yes—
crazy with love for you.
And when the crisis came,
the first thing you wanted back
was my madness.
Oct 20, 2025
Oct 20, 2025 at 11:22 AM UTC
Sometimes,
you need to sing
to yourself—
just to remember
you are still heard.
Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 2:16 PM UTC
Yes,
I can get upset
over silly things.
Yes,
I can get angry
at the smallest details.
And that’s okay.
I take those feelings,
pour them into poetry,
or fists against my pillow.
And that’s okay.
But if I spoke of these little things—
the failures,
the sadness—
to everyone,
not all would understand.
And that’s okay.
It’s about feeling,
letting it out,
letting it pass,
and finding peace
within myself.
Sep 26, 2025
Sep 26, 2025 at 6:05 AM UTC
You are not my daughter—
you are the daughter
of his late brother.
But everyone used to say
you looked like me,
that you could have easily
been mine.
And that was fine.
I called you princess,
because you are.
I don’t know
when you will realize this,
but the place you’re growing up in
is a hard one.
I won’t say I miss you,
but I wonder—
do you ever miss me?
Because in the few moments
we shared,
you clung to me,
you painted my face,
brushed my hair,
and for a while—
I became a princess
in your kingdom.
I hope the little time we had
was enough to show you
there is more to life.
Never stop dreaming, Nic.
You can go far.
All it takes
is believing.
Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 2:16 PM UTC
There’s a girl at school
with porcelain skin,
white as snow—
but her wrists
are covered in red lines.
I had to report it
to the administration.
It was the right thing to do.
I don’t know if she knows
it was me.
But now she lingers
in the principal’s office,
her face even paler,
nauseous,
locking herself
in the bathroom.
I fear I’ve made public
what was sacredly private
in her universe—
and that it may get worse.
My chest feels heavy
imagining what she might do
to herself,
if they don’t care for her
the right way.
Because once,
I was a girl
just like her.
Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 2:15 PM UTC