#loveandhealing - Hello Poetry

A bird by my window made a tweet— then was crossed out; becoming X… right after I cried myself to sleep; tears sinking through water like explaining yourself to an ex. She catches Z’s— I catch feelings. Cupid shot white arrows; and missed clean. “Dearly, you’ll be missed,” so said his Miss. Trauma stays amiss; little snow hands— cold enough to feel like mine. Then came you… softly. Painting calmer colours over all my rough drafts; telling my hands they were made for more than holding grief. Writing beauty across your body, like poetry maybe I finally found a better reason to breathe. Feet touching water— a perfect picture tide-drawn; your skin fine like sand, my sole slow-walking back to soul. Maybe that bird by my window was never loss at all— just one love flying away…so my Lovebird could arrive.

0

May 9

May 9, 2026 at 5:57 PM UTC

OddOdysseyPoet

Lovebird by My Window

A bird by my window made a tweet— then was crossed out; becoming X… right after I cried myself to sleep; tears sinking through water like explaining yourself to an ex. She catches Z’s— I catch feelings. Cupid shot white arrows; and missed clean. “Dearly, you’ll be missed,” so said his Miss. Trauma stays amiss; little snow hands— cold enough to feel like mine. Then came you… softly. Painting calmer colours over all my rough drafts; telling my hands they were made for more than holding grief. Writing beauty across your body, like poetry maybe I finally found a better reason to breathe. Feet touching water— a perfect picture tide-drawn; your skin fine like sand, my sole slow-walking back to soul. Maybe that bird by my window was never loss at all— just one love flying away…so my Lovebird could arrive.

25

Misery is where distasteful love likes to hide— where she keeps falling for showboats dressed like lifeboats, the world watches her drown again. Funny how even the coldest kiss feels warm when you’re tired of being alone. Golden boys shine loud from a distance, but up close, their glow goes too quiet. Their hearts aren’t real, their promises aren't heavy, and the intentions lose their colour the moment she holds them too close. Their words hit like fireworks— bright, loud, gone fast. They aim for her heart, _shoot a couple shots,_ but only the true ones stay after the impact, to help cover the bruise. But most take what they want, leaving the apology unfinished, and move on like she was a season. Most of them live behind masks; clean edges, perfect smiles, their lies rehearsed to look like devotion. And the real ones carry their scars in plain sight, not competing for gold, silver, or bronze, just hoping for an honourable mention in the story of someone they hope to love. At the funeral of her latest heartbreak, most of the gold walks away untouched, leaving her misery as the only inheritance they know how to leave behind. And the rest stand there again, the good guy in the corner, loving her like a truth she refuses to learn: _Some halos come with horns._

0

Nov 29, 2025

Nov 29, 2025 at 6:00 AM UTC

OddOdysseyPoet

His Verse (The Halo Effect)

Misery is where distasteful love likes to hide— where she keeps falling for showboats dressed like lifeboats, the world watches her drown again. Funny how even the coldest kiss feels warm when you’re tired of being alone. Golden boys shine loud from a distance, but up close, their glow goes too quiet. Their hearts aren’t real, their promises aren't heavy, and the intentions lose their colour the moment she holds them too close. Their words hit like fireworks— bright, loud, gone fast. They aim for her heart, _shoot a couple shots,_ but only the true ones stay after the impact, to help cover the bruise. But most take what they want, leaving the apology unfinished, and move on like she was a season. Most of them live behind masks; clean edges, perfect smiles, their lies rehearsed to look like devotion. And the real ones carry their scars in plain sight, not competing for gold, silver, or bronze, just hoping for an honourable mention in the story of someone they hope to love. At the funeral of her latest heartbreak, most of the gold walks away untouched, leaving her misery as the only inheritance they know how to leave behind. And the rest stand there again, the good guy in the corner, loving her like a truth she refuses to learn: _Some halos come with horns._

22

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

0

Sep 25, 2025

Sep 25, 2025 at 8:13 AM UTC

girlinflames

soil

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

11

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

0

Oct 10, 2025

Oct 10, 2025 at 6:08 AM UTC

girlinflames

coffin

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

7

her smile stops at her eyes but i still believe in first dates

0

Sep 29, 2025

Sep 29, 2025 at 7:32 AM UTC

girlinflames

we can always begin again

her smile stops at her eyes but i still believe in first dates

4

All afternoon thinking, my head keeps spinning. Evaluating one, and another option. Just to answer that question, What do you want with me? I have no label in the earthly, no explanation from beyond. I want to cover the wounds of the heart with gold. Like kintsugi, turning scars into beauty. I want to hold you, whenever you need it. I want to be the refuge from adversities. I want to be the outline of your emotions. I want to love you, and be loved. I want to set standards for you, and accept no less in return. Yet, you are setting them for me too, and I cannot receive less than what you give of yourself. It will be hard to cover with another nail, the mark you are leaving.

0

Mar 11, 2025

Mar 11, 2025 at 6:24 AM UTC

identified

Sincerity

All afternoon thinking, my head keeps spinning. Evaluating one, and another option. Just to answer that question, What do you want with me? I have no label in the earthly, no explanation from beyond. I want to cover the wounds of the heart with gold. Like kintsugi, turning scars into beauty. I want to hold you, whenever you need it. I want to be the refuge from adversities. I want to be the outline of your emotions. I want to love you, and be loved. I want to set standards for you, and accept no less in return. Yet, you are setting them for me too, and I cannot receive less than what you give of yourself. It will be hard to cover with another nail, the mark you are leaving.

28