#silentbattles
I let you in
like rain into dry earth
no questions, no shelter,
just open,
just yours.
You did not knock.
My heart did not ask.
We simply happened,
like something written
before I knew how to read it.
Now I am here,
trying to unlearn you
deleting your name
like it ever obeyed logic,
erasing your face
like memory is a chalkboard
and not a scar.
But you
you return in dreams,
uninvited and familiar,
standing in places
I have never taken you,
smiling like nothing broke.
And I
I betray myself there,
I smile back.
I tell myself
I want to forget you,
I rehearse anger
like a script I cannot memorize,
search for reasons to hate you
as if love is something
that can be argued out of existence.
But every time,
I lose.
Because in the quiet,
when no one is watching,
I whisper it
soft, ashamed, still true:
I love you.
And it hits me again,
sharp and sudden,
like my heart remembering
what my mind begged it to forget.
I grow weak there.
I close my eyes,
not to sleep
but to find you.
I want to let you go
the way I let you in
without fear,
without resistance,
without breaking myself
in the process.
But leaving you
is not a door.
It is a slow undoing,
a gentle tearing,
a quiet war
between what I know
and what I feel.
And still…
I am learning,
that maybe letting go
is not one moment
but a thousand small surrenders
until one day
your name
does not echo
the same.
May 2
May 2, 2026 at 5:14 PM UTC
I stand and watch my love
go to another.
Oh, to watch the one you love
love another.
To know the other’s name
gives real pain—
physiological, compulsive behaviour,
his name.
Why does losing love
hurt so much.
To lose one’s love
is the hardest pain—
feeling so alone,
knowing you are now alone.
So alone.
My heart hears no songs
of joy or love.
My heart no longer sings
to my love.
My heart now withers
within me.
My memories of love and joy
fail my heart.
No more summer love,
kisses on the warm breeze.
No more nights of romance
under a silver moon.
No more holding hands
while strolling the seashore.
No more wishing on shooting stars,
skipping through the night.
Reminiscent words once uttered—
“I love you,
together we will always be,
never to be apart,
two bonded as one,
one heart, one thought.”
But what now?
All that was said—
broken words,
open promises
now proved shallow.
To lose love,
to watch my love
go to another…
dear heart,
I sing no more—
no more songs of love.
Good night, my dear heart.
Good night.
Good night.
Oh, my dear broken heart,
don’t beat for me.
Stop now.
I wish for this pain
to be no more.
No more.
Feb 22
Feb 22, 2026 at 6:58 AM UTC
Refrains of Joy
Soldiers Returning from Northern Ireland
Through Ulster’s streets they tread once more,
Silent shadows by the door.
The Troubles etched on weary brows,
Their hearts adrift, yet none allows.
In uniforms worn, their youth concealed,
By sights of sorrow, wounds unhealed.
Through whispers thick with midnight’s grace,
They mask their truths, no trace, no face.
"No matter the storm," their souls declare,
"Let joy arise, though hearts despair."
For life’s gift, fragile yet profound,
Deserves no less than hope unbound.
Brothers in arms, steps firm yet fleeting,
Their truths unsaid in each meeting.
The guns are silenced, yet within,
A battle rages, unspoken din.
Home’s embrace, a comfort strained,
As echoes of their watch remain.
The laughter of a child, a fleeting balm,
A thread of peace, a fragile calm.
They recall green hills where peace once stayed,
Before the walls of conflict swayed.
Yet in their hearts, a hymn persists,
Of life, of light, through murky mists.
The Troubles may have marked their years,
Yet they return, suppressing tears.
A soldier’s refrain, steadfast and wise,
Through storm, through strife, let joy arise.
By Paul Baldry (LongJohn)
Feb 20
Feb 20, 2026 at 12:22 PM UTC
They are cuddling, a softness that drapes itself over the heart
Gentle coils of comfort, slow wrap, tender circles…
Whoosh that comes in low, fibrous breaths
“Listen,” they say, “I am here to ease you”
But grip upon grip, that almost-snap
The gentleness sharpens into a choke the moment I lean in
They press against my ribs, and the body, and the soul
But still they croon soft promises, “stay, be still, let me hold you”
They curl around my lungs in loving shapes
And steal the very air they claim to calm
The tender loops are tightening nooses that insists I stay where I am
They whisper a comfort I can’t refuse, like stillness is home
The binding is gentle, and I crave the very grip that comes
Because there is nothing beyond them worth reaching for
The suffocation is the closest thing to comfort I deserve.
Nov 28, 2025
Nov 28, 2025 at 3:58 AM UTC
In the quiet of the night, when darkness whispers near, A battle rages deep within, unseen by those who care. The shadows speak of ending, of finding sweet release, Yet in my heart, a voice resounds, a plea for inner peace.
Courage isn’t loud, it doesn’t always roar, Sometimes it’s a whisper, a knock upon my door. A gentle push to stay, to see another day, To find the strength within me, to keep the dark at bay.
Each morning is a victory, each breath a hard-won fight, In the face of haunting thoughts, I seek the smallest light. Resilience grows in silence, in battles fought alone, A testament to strength, in moments rarely shown.
I talk to my reflection, to the eyes that bear the pain, Reminding them of worth, of what there is to gain. “You are more than shadows, more than darkened skies, You hold a world of purpose, within those tear-streaked eyes.”
The road is often lonely, the climb steep and long, Yet within my soul, a melody, a half-remembered song. A song of hope and future, of dreams yet to be, A promise of the beauty, in what my life can be.
When thoughts of ending surface, when despair takes its hold, I summon up my courage, let my inner strength unfold. For every tear that’s fallen, for every silent scream, I anchor to the knowledge, that life is worth the dream.
The strength to stay is quiet, it’s found in every breath, In choosing life and love, in stepping back from death. It’s in the daily struggle, the moments of reprieve, In finding joy in small things, in learning to believe.
I find my worth in kindness, in love I give and share, In the laughter of a friend, in moments free of care. My purpose is in living, in taking one more stride, In knowing I am valued, with nothing left to hide.
So here’s to all the warriors, who fight the silent fight, Who choose to stay each day, who seek the healing light. For in the act of staying, a courage fierce and true, We find our strength within us, and life begins anew.
The strength to stay is powerful, a force that’s deep and strong, It’s in the heart’s resilience, in finding where we belong. With each step taken forward, with every new day’s start, We build a life worth living, with courage in our heart.
Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 10:30 AM UTC
A cosy room of books and green breath,
Light music hums through space.
The air whispers of peace.
Fingers and keys, words and thoughts,
A silent battle simmers beneath.
Nov 9, 2025
Nov 9, 2025 at 5:09 PM UTC
"In certain hard moments, not even your
comfort food,
favorite perfume,
healing music,
that one comforting conversation,
a peaceful walk in nature,
or a joyful outing can bring you back to normal."
Jul 13, 2025
Jul 13, 2025 at 12:54 AM UTC
He sits on the cold pavement,
back against the world,
eyes lost in a sky too vast,
too indifferent to a boy
who once dreamed of touching it.
The cigarette flickers between his fingers,
a quiet rebellion, a silent scream.
Smoke coils like memories—
of failures, of love lost,
of roads that led nowhere.
Maybe this is all there is—
a tired soul, an empty night,
a battle no one sees.
Then, a voice—soft yet firm.
"Got a light?"
He looks up, startled.
A stranger, wrapped in the wind,
eyes carrying storms of their own.
"You look like a man
who’s been running from himself,"
the stranger says, lighting his own cigarette.
"But the thing about running—
it never gets you anywhere."
A pause. A knowing glance.
"Maybe it’s time you walked instead."
The words settle like embers in his chest.
For the first time in a long time,
he exhales without regret.
The cigarette burns,
but tonight, so does something else—
a spark, a reason.
He stands up,
dusts off the weight of yesterday,
and starts walking forward
Feb 28, 2025
Feb 28, 2025 at 1:42 AM UTC
An artist skilled in silent resolve
The world is mesmerized by your majestic show
Countless watched as you conquered those conflicts
All they saw was the greatness as you grow.
An artist skilled in silent resolve
The world is fooled by your flamboyant show
Beneath the surface, scarred and beaten
Unaware of the bloodshed braved in the low
An artist skilled in silent resolve
The world should not be of worry to whatever you show
Your hidden battles, a courage untold
May we raise a glass to the healing you bestow
Oct 6, 2024
Oct 6, 2024 at 4:22 AM UTC