#unseenpain
The same date returns,
and so do the tears,
pouring quietly into my soul.
I hate the days that remember me.
Days that whisper pain
like it never left.
Sometimes I wish
I was never born into this world,
where emptiness settles
inside a broken heart.
This heaviness in my chest
steals my breath,
and I ask the same questions—
why?
Why do those around me
notice me only when I falter,
yet look away
when I give them everything I am?
People disappoint me.
Family disappoints me.
Friends disappoint me.
And I disappoint myself—
for staying kind,
for caring too deeply,
when love was never returned
the same way.
Jan 18
Jan 18, 2026 at 9:02 AM UTC
Cross my tears, lose my eyes—
these feelings fall as sadness starts to rise.
I lose my space to lose my mind; I cross
my hopes and pray they survive the night.
My joy feels too old; these skins
want to die young—tired, stretched thin
from wearing sorrow too long. I feel like
a blade that’s forgotten how to shine.
Rust gathers under my lips;
I’ve spoken too much to the voices
in my head— and all of them,
_all of them_ just want me dead.
Static feelings stuck in my sweater—
crying, even when it’s warm; cos I
don’t own a sweater, just a hoodie—
Something to cover my soul when I
feel like a ghost in daylight.
In my reflection, an invisible hand
gives me an invisible middle finger.
Even my mirror won’t look me in the eye.
These lips— they started off soft;
now they’re triggers, eager to flip
me off, shoot me down.
I am the despised poet— too hideous
even in my sweet dreams— this is
the real version of me: _unwritten,
unwanted, unmoved._
My soul’s literature is tired—
not of bleeding, but of no one
noticing it still bleeds.
And truth be told... I know the
purest colour of feeling blue.
Jun 19, 2025
Jun 19, 2025 at 9:44 AM UTC