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#toherwhoalredyknows
I was once lost in the folds of her love, and in that madness, I was fearless. When she was near, worry didn’t dare to touch me. The world could burn -l wouldn’t feel the heat. There was a time I revolved around her like the earth circles the sun. My days moved with her moods, my nights waited for her name to light up my phone. I lived in her world.And she gave me everything - not promises,not forever - but moments that felt eternal. With the purest heart I surrendered. I became a prisoner inside the shape of her absence. What mistake did I commit? What crime did I do other than loving too deeply? But I would still choose a prison where her memory exists over a garden where she never walked. I came into her life just to see her purity - like Joseph’s beauty in a cruel world. I saw it. I believed it. Maybe I worshipped it. People say we love only once. But I feel like I have loved her in every lifetime. In this fragile body, I have walked so many emotional deserts. I have been strong in front of everyone, and broken when no one was watching. I have been the king of ambition - and the beggar of her attention. I have healed others with advice - while silently bleeding inside. I have died many times without a funeral. I have floated like clouds when she smiled. And fallen like rain when she turned away. I tried to become a saint - detached, disciplined, distant. But her memory never left my robe. So I gathered the roses of the pain she left behind. Because even pain felt better than emptiness. Now I say - I am not just this broken boy. I am not just longing. I am not just her past. I am the silence after the storm. I am the light trying to return. I am the laughter that will rise again. And if someday you look at me and think I’m still the same - Look again. The boy who loved her blindly is gone. What stands here now is someone who survived loving her!! Work from: To Her Who Already Knows !!!
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Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 11:09 AM UTC
Prisoner of a Beautiful Memory
I was once lost in the folds of her love, and in that madness, I was fearless. When she was near, worry didn’t dare to touch me. The world could burn -l wouldn’t feel the heat. There was a time I revolved around her like the earth circles the sun. My days moved with her moods, my nights waited for her name to light up my phone. I lived in her world.And she gave me everything - not promises,not forever - but moments that felt eternal. With the purest heart I surrendered. I became a prisoner inside the shape of her absence. What mistake did I commit? What crime did I do other than loving too deeply? But I would still choose a prison where her memory exists over a garden where she never walked. I came into her life just to see her purity - like Joseph’s beauty in a cruel world. I saw it. I believed it. Maybe I worshipped it. People say we love only once. But I feel like I have loved her in every lifetime. In this fragile body, I have walked so many emotional deserts. I have been strong in front of everyone, and broken when no one was watching. I have been the king of ambition - and the beggar of her attention. I have healed others with advice - while silently bleeding inside. I have died many times without a funeral. I have floated like clouds when she smiled. And fallen like rain when she turned away. I tried to become a saint - detached, disciplined, distant. But her memory never left my robe. So I gathered the roses of the pain she left behind. Because even pain felt better than emptiness. Now I say - I am not just this broken boy. I am not just longing. I am not just her past. I am the silence after the storm. I am the light trying to return. I am the laughter that will rise again. And if someday you look at me and think I’m still the same - Look again. The boy who loved her blindly is gone. What stands here now is someone who survived loving her!! Work from: To Her Who Already Knows !!!
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When I look into her eyes, I do not see eyes -I see a silent ocean teaching the moon how to shine. Two deep wells where the night comes to drink, And my wandering soul forgets its own name. There is a garden growing inside that gaze, Petals made of light, roots made of secrets. Time sits down there like a tired traveler, And even pain forgets the road back home. Her eyes are not windows; They are doors left half-open by the divine. I step in, and suddenly I am no longer a man, But a drop returning to its sea. Something in them calls me The way the sky calls the birds at dusk, The way silence calls the prayer. No words, no promises - Just a pull older than memory. In that dark, shining depth, My storms grow quiet, My questions lose their hunger, And I begin to understand That love is not something I found there… It is something that was waiting To find me. So I keep returning to that sacred place, Not to look,But to dissolve!!!
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Feb 6
Feb 6, 2026 at 9:02 AM UTC
A Sea Hidden in Her Eyes
It's just a night where I am checking my phone , picking it up,putting it down, picking it up again, opening our conversation even though there are no new notifications.... can I be the poem and not the poet? The admired and not the admirer? The captured and not the capturer? The written and not the writer? The loved and not the lover? Can you be the reason my success feels complete? The line destiny itself chose to write in my story?
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Feb 6
Feb 6, 2026 at 1:26 AM UTC
A poem that left me awake at 3am
Sometimes I forget the strength hidden in my own bones, how many storms my soul has crossed. The winds tried to break me, the nights filled my chest with loneliness, and invisible scars lived quietly inside me- like wounds the world could never see. Yet the strange secret of life is this: every storm that tried to destroy me became the path that brought me here. I am still standing- not because pain spared me, but because my soul refused to surrender. What tried to bury me became the soil from which I rose. And today, in the quiet of my heart, I bow to every wound, every invisible scar- for they did not end me, they revealed the strength I had forgotten. Work from : To her who already knows!!
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Mar 4
Mar 4, 2026 at 8:38 PM UTC
The Strength Hidden in My Wounds
What I Never Said Aloud I chose that job silently. Not because I liked it, but because it paid weekly !! and weekly was the only way I could slowly gather what was needed to clear a weight that wasn’t even mine, but felt like it was. I didn’t tell anyone. I hid my face, my name, my reasons. Some efforts lose their meaning the moment they are spoken. One night, my first delivery was to my own maths HOD. I stood there with a helmet on, heart beating louder than the engine. She didn’t recognize me. I let that be. Some truths are meant to stay unseen. I rode through nights thinking less about sleep and more about responsibility. About how strange it is to carry someone in your mind while the world sees you as nothing but a delivery boy passing by. Then the road changed everything. The bike slipped. Skin tore. Pain arrived without warning. And suddenly the debt was mine too - medical bills, fear, silence. I didn’t blame life. I just absorbed it. I kept going anyway. Because when the heart commits, logic stops negotiating. I wasn’t chasing appreciation. I wasn’t asking for recognition. I was only trying to hold together what felt meaningful to me. What hurts the most is not the fall, not the bruises, not even the money. It’s realizing that even after giving this much quietly, life can still say, not yet. But if you ask me honestly - I would still do it again. Because everything I carried, I carried willingly. Out of care. Out of feeling. Out of something pure I never knew how to explain. This is not a story of success. This is not a request for sympathy. This is simply the truth of what I held inside while the world saw nothing. If someone reads this and feels a weight in their chest - then they’ve touched the depth I lived in Work from : To Her Who Already Knows!!!!!!
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Jan 6
Jan 6, 2026 at 9:13 AM UTC
The Weight I Carried Quietly
What I Never Said Aloud I chose that job silently. Not because I liked it, but because it paid weekly !! and weekly was the only way I could slowly gather what was needed to clear a weight that wasn’t even mine, but felt like it was. I didn’t tell anyone. I hid my face, my name, my reasons. Some efforts lose their meaning the moment they are spoken. One night, my first delivery was to my own maths HOD. I stood there with a helmet on, heart beating louder than the engine. She didn’t recognize me. I let that be. Some truths are meant to stay unseen. I rode through nights thinking less about sleep and more about responsibility. About how strange it is to carry someone in your mind while the world sees you as nothing but a delivery boy passing by. Then the road changed everything. The bike slipped. Skin tore. Pain arrived without warning. And suddenly the debt was mine too - medical bills, fear, silence. I didn’t blame life. I just absorbed it. I kept going anyway. Because when the heart commits, logic stops negotiating. I wasn’t chasing appreciation. I wasn’t asking for recognition. I was only trying to hold together what felt meaningful to me. What hurts the most is not the fall, not the bruises, not even the money. It’s realizing that even after giving this much quietly, life can still say, not yet. But if you ask me honestly - I would still do it again. Because everything I carried, I carried willingly. Out of care. Out of feeling. Out of something pure I never knew how to explain. This is not a story of success. This is not a request for sympathy. This is simply the truth of what I held inside while the world saw nothing. If someone reads this and feels a weight in their chest - then they’ve touched the depth I lived in Work from : To Her Who Already Knows!!!!!!
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