#spokenheart
*And the heart messed up with precious moments
with no reason to get hurt itself,
Ecstasy brought it the pleasure of fake components
Which help it residing to the new-corners of book-shelf
Old, dusty, & rotten pages of books
serve it a real nice pleasant scents of its artistry,
As the time ticked by with looks
It goes emerged into the words of literacy
****No more hurt, No more love
Only the memories of past
seem to be saved to the broken-heart****
The heart always gets hurt,
no matter if it treats the love right,
Love makes the heart brutal, faithless, & nerd
which costs it further with much price
****So, the heart decides not to get fallen in fake love
again 'n again,
Seasons come every year so the rain... with pain****
Love's fake, but the true love ain't, so are we
Love makes the hues of heart desperate so do we
What's lost and whatsoever just found
Love ain't a thing that's meant to be sepulchred “under” the grave of conspired-ground
****And, by the end, the heart makes all the old and new books
its noble friends...
which pat on its flesh, & make it running along new-trends****
Dusk falls down, Night comes down
It slept away, & the morn appears around
And the heart gets spoken;
It says,
“It feels good thinking 'bout new-lit
& forgetting everything even all the pleasure off sin,
Literature becomes the beat; a passion, No more spit
Now I re-start off the life... living along wisdom, I admit."*
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 7:06 AM UTC
It hurts in places
I never knew existed.
Like how my fingertips ache,
and a mournful scream
lives in the back of my throat.
There is a black hole
where my heart once lived,
dense and ravenous,
swallowing light,
devouring warmth,
collapsing joy
into nothing.
Some days,
the void feels large enough
to consume me,
completely.
But still,
I wake.
Still,
I breathe.
And somehow,
without noticing,
I’ve grown strong enough
to carry it.
Not because the pain has lessened,
but because it’s changing me.
Sometimes,
the pain wants to cry out
I love you
loud enough
to reach you.
But those words
would fall into a silence
you no longer fill.
I wish I’d said them
a thousand more times
when they still had
somewhere to land.
I wish I could say
I love you
instead of
I loved you.
But if this grief
is just love
with no place to go,
I will ache
in all these new and strange places.
Willingly.
And I will wake up every day,
and breathe, one breath at a time.
Because this pain
is simply love,
wearing a different skin.
Aug 2, 2025
Aug 2, 2025 at 11:13 PM UTC
i was thinking of you
of us
do you miss me, like i miss you?
do you need me, like i need you right now?
i know i left
but every person who feels like this should leave too.
you made me feel unseen, even when your eyes met mine.
you made me feel stupid, even when you encouraged me.
you made me feel dry, even when we talked all the time.
am i imagining things?
there was something wrong,
i know there was.
but you didn’t care if there was a misunderstanding between us.
you continued to talk like nothing happened,
like there isn’t a big wall
between us—between me and you.
i tried to break it,
the wall.
i really did.
but if i break one brick—only one—
you will put it back again.
you will build it again.
and again.
you made me feel unseen, stupid, and dry.
even if i imagined this.
even if i misunderstood.
even if...
i don’t care anymore.
because this feeling will come
again and again.
and i choose myself.
i choose peace.
i choose me.
i don’t need you anymore.
i don’t want to feel unlovable by you
again.
and again—
my coffee has gone cold again,
because i thought of you,
of us.
May 3, 2025
May 3, 2025 at 7:28 PM UTC
You know the feeling when you’ve been hurt several times and you think your fine, now the pain would be less
But then reality hits you hard….
You get hurt and the pain stings like an itch on the back that can’t be reached
Am one of those who feel everything too much
And I guess even your words sting when u don’t mean them that way
Jun 12, 2025
Jun 12, 2025 at 5:54 PM UTC