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#poetrythathurts
Is this the end— the final wilt of a flower that never bloomed? My name fades like ink washed away by merciless rain, my dreams crumble like abandoned sandcastles at dusk. Where is the wildfire that once roared inside me? Now I am a candle, melting without a flame, a shadow chasing a sun that never rises for me. What is the point of pain if it never runs dry? It stretches like an endless ocean, each wave heavier than the last, dragging me deeper— where light cannot reach. I walk a road no one else takes, where streetlights are ghosts, where even the wind forgets to whisper. The river beneath the bridge writhes, never still, never calm, just like me. God, was it too much to ask Wished for some hurdles to lessen, But even the roadside grass Knows no mercy under the weight of passing feet I never wanted to beg, but mercy tastes sweet when you are starving. Still, no hand reaches out, no voice calls my name. I tried to belong, but I am the night sky— swallowing all color, never reflecting back the light. Let me breathe— but the air is an ocean, and I am drowning in silence. Want someone to skip a beat of my heart Want my soul to rest without vanishing? Want someone to notice—before I am gone? God, is it really too much to ask?
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Mar 29, 2025
Mar 29, 2025 at 4:23 PM UTC
Is This the End?
I hate the old me, the one who stayed too long, who mistook being needed for being loved I hate the new you, how easy it seems for you to become someone I don’t recognise And me? I’m somewhere in between not healed, not whole, just… here I don’t love the new me yet, I’m still learning how to hold her without tearing her apart and I still love the old you, the one who looked at me like I was enough before everything changed and I was left trying to understand why It’s a strange kind of grief missing who you were while standing in front of who you’ve become and worse not knowing who I am without you
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Feb 15
Feb 15, 2026 at 10:02 PM UTC
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