#heartbreakpoetry
In his love was I destined to perish,
Yet lo the burden of my devotion
Weighed lighter than his worldly cares.
For him I was fated to wither in waiting,
But alas perchance he never loved me at all.
How oft have I borne the funeral of mine own honour,
And none did come to lift the bier of my love.
For he, who slew my heart so gentle,
Left me amidst the ruins of my yearning
And this time, no soul remained
To carry love’s coffin…
Save I, who bore it myself.
May 16
May 16, 2026 at 6:10 AM UTC
I love dancing when I’m alone.
I love when my soul
bleeds into ink on paper.
I love crying under the covers,
letting my spirit stretch and breathe.
I love the sound
of my own feet
moving across the floor.
I love when music
breaks the walls
and makes me feel free.
And I want to celebrate
how far I’ve come
even if no one is there.
Because it will be special to me
even if I do it alone.
It will live in my heart.
May 12
May 12, 2026 at 3:00 PM UTC
The day I saw him hold her hand,
His fingers wrapped firmly around hers.
I watched from a distance,
And with every second he held on,
My heart fell piece by piece.
He held her
The way I once wished to be held.
The moment his hand closed around hers,
The sky grew darker for me,
While it seemed brighter for them.
As his grip grew stronger,
Memories of us returned
Like shadows behind me,
Slowly tightening around my neck.
She smiled brightly,
Light dancing across her face,
While I sat pale across the lane,
Watching him walk away with her.
And there I stood
Clueless.
Astonished.
Left behind
With the silence.
Mar 27
Mar 27, 2026 at 2:01 PM UTC
The ache pulls and breaks,
apparently these were the stakes.
My heart shattered into pieces,
the world rotting with diseases,
to purge it clean of all the fakes.
My heart was innocent and pure,
I truly thought you were the cure.
Love turned into hatred,
egos became inflated,
and sadly I fell for your lure.
Human nature is a disgusting sight,
I’d rather be out flying a kite.
But not today,
I have something to say:
no knight is coming to save you tonight.
Mar 16
Mar 16, 2026 at 6:38 PM UTC
I thought I’d found Heaven—
But it was just the afternoon
Just looking holy. _Your eyes?_
Little constellations; I almost
Made an angel my wife.
Then I saw the _real you_.
Biblically accurate version:
Watching you, too many eyes
Beauty that breaks the mind
Love that shakes the soul.
The kind of angel that makes
Men fall. Not Heaven at all—
_Terrifying. Divine. Winsome.
Spiritual. Engaging. Angelic_
Scaring the hell out of me.
Dec 12, 2025
Dec 12, 2025 at 4:17 PM UTC
Oh, blindness beauty — the cruelty of words unsaid, a prickly briar
whispering _love in decline._ My card has been swiped twice;
stolen from me are the dreams I charged on hope, and no point
of sale could measure the worth of my soul.
Oh, soul — how I wear sad forget-me-nots. My necktie is a tangle of
knots, and I remember the vine from which every part of me was
cut and shaped for loving someone. I will bear this crown of shame
until I read perfected _loveliness,_ but how shameful that love is
also a place of great loneliness.
For wrapped around me is a honeysuckle — the kiss of a bee, sweet
enough to forget the sting. And what was meant to guard my heart
is also what threatens to **** me. I offered devotion with open palms,
sprinting as a chasing heart across the miles of love’s marathon.
I was breathless not because the chase was done but because I
never caught what I was running toward.
My eyes still run, chasing the taste of a pleasing sight; the palette
of my mind stays hungry, my heart confused about where to begin.
For in this kiss — what I hoped would last us years — was only
a few more seconds before we parted from our words.
For love is blind; we shut our eyes whenever we kiss. And truly
the first one to open them is the one who has already begun to
wonder whether this is worth it at all.
Love is a blind beauty —_is it not_?
Nov 14, 2025
Nov 14, 2025 at 8:32 AM UTC
I want a box for my heart –
sometimes the chance to fight for love,
most times to store it away from
gaining more scars.
Love is sometimes a joke —
with an ugly punchline, still every day,
you punch in for love, taking hits
that time won’t clock out.
You're either
_boxing_ or _boxed in._
Oct 24, 2025
Oct 24, 2025 at 11:48 AM UTC
you will see his eyes
and think it is love
but the danger is
we stay
when we should leave
a stone
turns into a mountain
do not give
your love
to empty hands
Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 5:56 PM UTC
you left today
tomorrow is uncertain
the day after
already too late
i tell myself
you are poison
take this chalice away
but memory betrays me—
the wine
the heat
my body in yours
and the truth—
i fell
you didn’t
Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 6:38 AM UTC
I’ve got finger stitches — love handed me needles;
the attentions of spiraling vines; some bear grapes,
but not all are ripe with maturity, some just needless.
Burning every bridge while the sky stays divinely nested,
and I’ve tied these knots around my tired heart,
left admiring birds of a feather — but never flying
south together — _all bested_.
They press your buttons just for their luck to press —
dim suggestions also light up the road to regret
Lessons in subtle form and silent —whatever mistakes
you walk into and out of, never forget their steps.
Hiking with joy into the last light of sunset; yes, we can
fall in love like the sun falls behind a mountain crest —
rising bright by morning, but crying in the dark —
perhaps this isn’t love yet.
__And that’s okay.__
Jul 27, 2025
Jul 27, 2025 at 1:18 AM UTC
__Two-step verification__ — it takes two to fall in love,
but that’s yet to be confirmed. Grinding gears just
to talk, shifting through awkward conversations,
but we can’t reverse all the bad things we’ve said
at those rushing high speeds.
Lovers with underwear conversations, trying to fix
what they barely understood, so unaware of what’s
really the problem. We run into relationships holding
open scissors —the result? Just another love story
cut too short.
But teach yourself to love someone new, still maybe
the lesson won’t stick. So brace for impact when they
say, "I truly love embracing you."
And I feel like Saturday news — as they talk about us
like weekend headlines. They say I left my imprint
on you, but that just comes from being pressed for
a time, rushing to report every mistake before the
feeling fades.
Needing nothing — and in the same breath, needing
each other. Yet neither of us has anything long-lasting
to give. To love someone with real deep depth while
they only offer surface depth. _Lurid entertainments._
Frozen, unflattering coitus. And quoting someone else’s
expressions because we’re too shy to speak out our own
love language.
Two people, extending their existence — but modern
love feels like this: one of us still alive in the moment,
while the other is just living in a picture without you
in the end. ////// You claimed to be bound to each
other, but it was really bound to end
Jul 24, 2025
Jul 24, 2025 at 5:36 PM UTC
Missing names in my letterbox— but mostly yours.
And I have no right to claim it, no reason to expect
your name to arrive again.
I try to write it out— all that it was between us.
A love so bizarre, so hard to define, yet somehow…
_energizing._ But I want to cut the ties my eyes have
to their tiredness— but I’m still oddly entangled
in the thought of falling asleep to the memory of you.
_Tired! Tired!_
But no rest compares to you, or the rest I see.
And maybe—
just maybe— the measure I hold love to now
is too tight, too closed, to give anything new
even a chance.
Jun 21, 2025
Jun 21, 2025 at 2:48 PM UTC
You’ll regret crying in my hands—
but only because
you’ll miss the way they held you.
Your tears slip between my fingers
like quiet reminders
of how far you’ve run
from the person you used to be.
And still—
I know you remember your feet
each time they find their way
back to my door.
Instinct.
Muscle memory.
_Need._
You come back bare,
and I wear you like a crown—
delicate, dangerous,
balanced at the top of my thoughts.
You are the ache I prioritize.
The storm I drink from.
The wound I keep pressing,
just to feel something again.
While my friends fold hands
in prayer to Jehovah,
I’m just praying
my depression doesn’t **** me over.__
Sometimes I’d rather believe in your skin
than in heaven—
and sometimes,
I think your mouth is the closest
thing I’ll ever get to salvation.
So we drink.
We touch.
Not because it heals anything—
but because it delays
the end.
Darling,
we drink so this love doesn’t burn out.
We drink
instead of breaking up.
And when your mascara smudges
under my kiss,
when your sighs leave trails
from your stained makeup,
I taste the salt of your sadness—
hidden beneath powdered cheeks
and perfectly drawn lips.
We kiss
beneath mood lighting
and half-lies.
We are mature enough to drink,
and broken enough to
__make up__
in every way
the word
dares to mean.
Jun 17, 2025
Jun 17, 2025 at 2:50 PM UTC
Moments of love feel almost medical—
but my patience for it is cold, clinical.
I never meant to overdose, just chasing
comfort in a heavy dose of someone new,
to help me cope.
I try to build a house from broken pieces—
too many to count. I am the empty echo
of a heart still full, but far too loud
to be heard.
_Echo...
Echoes_
fall between the silence of our words,
two awkward breaths apart—trying
to keep it innocent, just as friends,
while our primal skins just want to skip
to the part of just having ***
It’s the risk of falling in love—
that makes us stumble near the edge.
It’s beautiful. It’s ******* stupid.
It hurts. It’s love.
Whether it finds you first, as the one
you need— or shows up last, as the one
you never really wanted.
Jun 15, 2025
Jun 15, 2025 at 2:08 AM UTC
_autumn tears..._
falling for you
__all over again__
we’re just friends
in the __present tense__
making amends
like cracks filled
with silence
__tears of yesterday__
still
water my lawn
i’ve been banking on a love
that never matured
just an emotion
__on loan__
tell me—
do you rest your hand
under your chin
like I did
when you’re alone?
sharp edges
on my mind
but it feels
__pointless to forget you__
to accept you
is to accept
__not having you at all__
the drink of your love
I could never finish—
you were
too tall
too much
too deep
__too far__
you poured yourself
out for me
and I drank
greedy
we kissed
like language
like memory
and I felt the shiver
__escape your pores__
so why
can’t I
__escape your love?__
Jun 12, 2025
Jun 12, 2025 at 3:02 PM UTC
Some nights,
it feels like I’m running out of air—
sinking slowly into the kind of quiet
that wraps around your chest
and doesn’t let go.
I reach for you in the stillness,
my hand stretching toward
a presence that isn’t there.
The space beside me answers
with nothing but still air.
The days are gentler.
They offer distractions—
tasks to complete, people to smile for,
moments that keep the ache at bay.
But the nights?
They are heavy.
They close in like water,
and every thought grows louder,
shouting in the silence.
Memories rise like waves.
And I can’t stop myself
from wondering—
do you ever lie awake,
missing me too?
May 8, 2025
May 8, 2025 at 1:59 PM UTC
I’m sorry for the times I silenced my voice,
Swallowing words to keep the peace.
For dimming my light to soften the shadows,
And calling it compromise.
I’m sorry for doubting my worth,
For the moments I let self-blame consume me.
For believing I wasn’t enough,
And letting pain define who I was.
I’m sorry for hiding parts of me,
Thinking they were too much to share.
For shrinking,
Thinking smallness would keep me safe.
I’m sorry for believing love meant endurance,
That devotion was measured in sacrifice.
For holding myself to an unyielding fire,
Just to prove I could stand the heat.
But today, I see it now—
Strength is not the absence of breaking.
It’s the courage to gather the pieces
And build something whole.
Today, I apologize to the mirror.
Not for the tears I shed,
But for the years I spent believing
I was too much or never enough.
Today, I give myself permission
To stand tall,
To embrace the parts of me I tried to hide.
I forgive myself.
And in that forgiveness,
I find the freedom to begin.
Today, I choose to love myself
Without apology.
Apr 30, 2025
Apr 30, 2025 at 12:33 AM UTC
The cold has a memory —
it lingers in the corners of empty rooms,
settles into the spaces you once filled.
No matter how many layers I wear,
it finds a way to my skin,
a whisper of what used to be warmth.
The windows rattle,
the floor sighs under footsteps that aren’t yours,
and I tell myself it’s just the season.
But the truth is,
it’s not the winter that chills me —
it’s the memory of you.
Apr 26, 2025
Apr 26, 2025 at 9:40 PM UTC
There are days when the past
hits me like an uninvited guest,
its presence sharp, unwelcome.
Memories once soft and warm
now turn into needles,
pricking at the places I thought were healed.
I remember laughter that filled the air,
and the way we used to talk like time had no hold on us.
But now those moments feel foreign,
like ghosts drifting in a forgotten room.
The sting of a kiss that meant everything
now lingers like a wound that refuses to close.
I wish I could erase it all,
but even the hurt holds pieces of us
that I’m not ready to let go of.
Apr 26, 2025
Apr 26, 2025 at 8:55 PM UTC
The silence between us is deafening —
A chasm carved by all we left unsaid.
Each word we swallowed lingers,
A ghost that haunts the empty space.
I hear your absence in the quiet.
The stillness hums with what was once ours —
Laughter tangled in whispered promises,
Love unspoken but deeply known.
But now, I only hear the questions.
Do you miss the way my voice
Filled the silence like sunlight?
Do your thoughts wander back to me
When the night grows too long?
I reach for words that might mend,
But none can bridge the distance.
So I sit with the silence,
And try to understand
what it’s telling me.
Apr 24, 2025
Apr 24, 2025 at 7:13 PM UTC
They discovered it and were trying to get to the bottom of it.
They had not encountered anything like this before, but they knew the effects of it.
Lying in the bed, waiting for his death, he looks as pale as a full moon night.
The aura of pain emitting from him is as gloomy as the new moon night.
They tried to cheer him up, guiding him to get out of pain, but all of them knew only he had to go through it alone.
That is the nature of the sickness that found him, which is called by the name 'love.'
There is no medicine for it except her redemption of the love given by him.
Mar 13, 2025
Mar 13, 2025 at 11:29 AM UTC
The wheel spins, the bets are laid,
A game of hearts, a love parade.
They place their chips on numbers bright,
The ones with charm, the ones with might.
The ball of fate will roll and land,
On winning hands, the ones they planned.
No wager placed on broken dreams,
No hope for those with lesser means.
Their eyes chase red, their hearts want black,
But never green, no turning back.
A riskless game, they play so tight,
They only love what shines in light.
Yet here I stand, a number cold,
Unmarked, unplayed, a story old.
A silent slot, a wasted spin,
No luck, no love—how could I win?
The burden’s mine, this truth I bear,
That fate won’t stop, it doesn’t care.
The ball will rest where wishes gleam,
Not where the nameless dare to dream.
Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 10:27 PM UTC
I’ve waited so long to talk to you.
I’ve messaged you and have waited
to hear back from you.
I am still waiting.
At this point, time isn’t a factor.
Even if I never hear anything,
I still will wait.
The closest I get to you now
is an algorithm.
Social media suggests you
as a new friend.
As much as I would love that—
to start over and pretend,
as painful as it sounds,
to love you in restriction,
trapped by some border,
like we’re strangers.
I stare at your picture and never
swipe the notification away.
In a way, it feels like old times.
The only thing missing is your voice.
You’re with me when I go to work,
you’re with me when I am in the car.
But nothing lasts forever.
By the time I wake up,
the notification is gone,
the screen is empty,
and you’re gone.
But your eyes—
the way that you smile—
have not left my memory.
I suppose I should be satisfied
with what I have now.
I’ve tried,
but I am not
Dec 20, 2024
Dec 20, 2024 at 9:22 PM UTC
In the silence where you once breathed, I wait,
As shadows of you haunt every quiet place.
The sun, it rises, but feels too late,
And my heart, like a shattered glass, loses grace.
The threads of laughter we spun with care
Now unravel into tears, slow and raw.
Your whispered promises linger in the air,
But they crumble like leaves in autumn's maw.
How can I hold you in memories alone,
When each thought of you is a knife, a thorn?
In the ruins of us, I stand alone,
A broken soul, a heart worn and torn.
If I could keep you, just one last embrace,
Maybe this sorrow would dare to part.
But now all I have is this hollow space,
Where you once lived—deep in my heart.
Oct 30, 2024
Oct 30, 2024 at 1:09 PM UTC
Breathing in your smoke is like heaven to me,
Clearing out my lungs of such anxiety.
Your crutch and your dependence,
An endearing call of resplendence,
I think I loved you.
You make me nervous.
To the point where my brain stops,
And my mouth keeps running
Without any indication of where
the finish line is.
Where I begin to speak too fast and too quick
To know what I’ve said, and quite possibly
For you to even follow each word that
Pours out.
Yet Your heart was longing for another,
You and I were not meant to be lovers,
And We were not made for each other.
Oh, how sad times swept away the positive possibilities and the “what if?” worries,
I thought I could only hate the month of August,
It seems I now despise of July.
Stress melted away within my tears as I wept,
Sadness left the residue of itself on my pillow where I slept.
The sun bleeding through my curtains closed,
And yet my room turns an ill ridden shade of yellow.
I thought the outcome would leave me with a feeling of euphoria
Instead I look to my mirrored self, reflecting a state of body dysmorphia
I do not like the way that I look,
Comparing myself to her and your feelings I mistook.
Straighter teeth and an older complexion,
While I hide away, she only craves the attention.
You only knew her for a day and you still went away,
With her on holiday to a place so far, I can’t stay
In this state of mind any longer.
Seeing her be the lighter to your cigarette;
The founding letters to the jumbled spaces in your alphabet.
I see I am only the ash that falls to the ground,
I am not within those letters which you finally found.
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 6:25 AM UTC