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Nicole May 2019
Eyes ache with loads of uncried tears
As my chest caves with the weight of
A heart that can't live freely
I just want to live
I want to be alive
I want to be free in this life
To have one at all
Because I'm so stuck right now
Trapped behind my own mind
And I'm grateful that it's protected me
But I am safe now
I don't need such high security
I don't need to be on guard with everyone
It's ok to be afraid and to not trust
But it doesn't help if I can't open up
I feel so alone
Yet I maintain that same state
I have people that truly care and love me
But I don't let them see me
My mind doesn't want to be vulnerable
It thinks others will see it as a weakness
And the weakest are the easiest to break
I'm afraid to get hurt again
I can't handle becoming another target
Which is extremely ironic considering
I'm the one the aiming the gun
At the most genuine piece of my soul
Megan Parson Mar 2023
Before the flight takes off
Before our ascent into the skies
Before I'm unplugged from the grid
Before I'm temporarily disconnected

I think about what I'll miss,
If the flight never landed.
I think about the goals unfulfilled
People unmet, sights unseen
Words unsaid, tears uncried
Emotions unshared, pain unfelt
Fights unhad, hands unheld
Stories untold, lives unlived

But most of all,
I think of you.
And feel
Hope.
Written on a return flight trip. A few moments of introspection.

© Megan Parson 2023
lluvia de abril Dec 2015
Before I raise my voice
I will lower it to hear you

I will listen
to the undercurrent of your thoughts
your pain and the sound your tears make
when they fall
when they are left uncried

I will walk with you,  trace our steps back
to that fork in the path where good things fall
through a pocket hole and burdens
hitch a piggy back ride

I hear you
I see you
let's take a walk

I will be brave with you
let us gently extricate
dreams lost from
underneath that heavy rock

Don't be afraid
if  you get lost
I will raise my voice to find you

when you hear me
my voice will bring you back
Inspired by a gentle, yet brave  voice. I hear you. I am walking back, dreams in my pocket, burden off the back.
Ivy Mukherjee Nov 2014
'Going away' is always bit difficult, isn't it?
Be it from your mother or your face licking pet or your beloved...
'Going away' is always a heart wrenching pain.

It's a sub-conscious state where you both don't know
When will you again see each other's face and feel their pale skin and the intimacy written on it.
Thinking of being apart from that eternal bond isn't so casual as your surroundings think....
....... It is not at all easy , it is not what you always see or evaluate without knowing.

'Going away' is all about those undropped tears and silent bawling,
You know nothing will be like earlier as it used to be...
You will be somewhere and "they" somewhere else too....
..... Things will again fall in places with growing and emerging time.

It's a drastic change for everyone of you,
Who have faced "going away" moment.

'Going away' will make you much stronger and motivated to see D-R-E-A-M-S.
D-R-E-A-M-S which are for you and them,
D-R-E-A-M-S of being together someday again forever ... As you all used to be,
D-R-E-A-M-S which will let you to float through life.

'Going away' is not what you think apparently;
It is how you recreate yourself after that phrase.

So, don't be heart-broken darling,
If this 'going away' decision is mutual it will create magic someday and
You know I will be there in glowing tears with your magical retreat.

Because 'going away' from you can't ever make us apart.
We will D-R-E-A-M together, forever..... Again and again .

For those undropped tears and uncried fears: we will D-R-E-A-M on and "going away" will move on very soon.
Improvised from my mother's letter to me, when I was leaving home for my job.
Ayeshah Apr 2011
I gots
my hair wrap on,

b'cuz

I
just finished

doing/sewing in
my  own
weave.

Did my own nails
and feet
too.

I got too many
mouths to feed


Ain't got time to go
to a shop.


He's
staring at me
tonight.

I got on
my cut off sweats
and
my tank-top.

I watch him too
as
I walk to the kitchen....

I stop
&
focus on my task...


Bacon ,eggs, bread

and

homemade orange juice.


I look over again

and

I noticed the look
on his face,
as
I reach
for
2 eggs...

He stands up
&
walks over to me....

Looking at him
as
he approaches
sends shivers
down my spine,


I unwind- reminded
of this mornings event.
He wants to touch me

but
drops
his hand

and

the tears
that
start to role down
my face
leaves me feeling dazed.
Crazed!

I walk past him
and
smell
the pan burning.

Burning
away my

uncried
wales....

The pain

The hurt

The deeds been
done.


This morning

I felt new beginnings
while life swept away....

Unforgiving.

It's 8pm
time to go to bed,
sleep eludes me
as
I star blankly
up at this movie,

I allow.......
Him
to cook and finish
what
I started.

He's watching me again.

I want to pretend that
I don't notice
but
my voice
get choked
as
I tell him
I did what

to
me is unforgiven.

He
tells me I'm sorry,
it's for the best.
I cry out
No
it's just best for YOU!
....
O'PLEASE

forgive me

if I don't believe you.
I throw my wedding ring
at him
saying

I no longer want it!!!

NO......Not
after this morning.
I feel my *******
getting wet,
It's not what you think..

&
I know its time
to
change
my **** pad,

He
looks at me as
I run to the
bathroom.........

I'm sitting
here
on a toilet
as
he's
repeating
his plea
to forget
&
forgive.


It's now
8:48 pm

I wash up
&
come out....

I tell him
I loved you
But.......
To
abort
his seed,
my eggs
"I"
can
never
be..........

Forgiven!

Always Me Ayeshah


Copyright © Ayeshah K.C.L.N 1977-Present YEAR(s)
All right reserved
Casey Lederman Dec 2013
Time and drugs, the binding of our book.
How can I love when my heart beats
like the wings of a dying butterfly?
Hands shake
shake
shake hard enough that the leaves from surrounding trees
fall
and the salt and pepper shakers clang
China notes upon the table.

I spit on you, but I have no right
(nor left)
to do so.
Cut your hair, go for a run, leave yourself behind.
Dance with yourself or dance with the devil,
the two are one and one is zero.

Coffee, bass, thump, stomp,
coffee
coffee
coffee.
Ingest toxicity as the earth ingests the rain,
the rain that once was water-
wasn't it?

Bleeding eyes and tasteless lips and feet that touch,
soul to sole.
Who are you to dance, to drink, to forget,
while I stand stagnant
as a memory?

Come home to tearful cheeks and screams of pain,
come kiss my eyelids with your
punches,
or stay buried within your beautiful haze of smoke and
uppers
downers
all-arounders.

Capture a moment as a child captures an ant,
harmless at first
until the tweezers come out
and then-
oh,
there go my legs.

And in the other realms the time sweeps
through sands of soulless poison,
green and beautiful and stocked in slime enough to cover all of
Jerusalem.
Dance
dance
dance until you seize and your mind is a blank page of
uncried ****** tears.

And as my soul burns upward and the flames singe my
nostrils,
I reach toward the closest substance,
just push
push
push these flames back inside and downward,
before I combust into a ball of hellfire
right here on the grey tile floor.
So Jo Feb 2014
deep into the wet and salt
uncried tears bracing cheeks
don't matter

run before the wind
slipping on the moon's reflection
lose the world behind  
in whalesong

turn back only then
when the swell has tossed
all inside shifting still

turn back to the world
torn pockets spilling sand
Tyranny came around.
Chains appeared nearby.
We were afraid of life.
People enjoyed being fooled.

They've got the power.
This pain grew hard to stand.
We cried each alone.
People still cheered no mind.

Freedom is missing.
It's scary to speak up.
No tears left uncried.
someone opened their eyes.

Voices rising with little doubt.
Fools defend their illusions.
We come together slowly.
People are choosing sides.

They will be scared to death.
Chains will be breaking.
We shall rise our voices.
People will understand.

Watch them flee like never.
Hear the pain **** itself.
We will laugh singing.
People shall smile dancing.
dandelionfine Feb 2020
The fingernail moon illuminates the inky black evening
while barren tree branches scratch and poke at the windowpanes.
The letter he wrote for you neatly sealed in its envelope in the dark
of your room, in the corner mostly, where wind
and spooky spirits congregate and flow
in grand swirls like the divine milk (it tells things to you) in your teacup.

It would seem that the whimsy and love letters that appear in your teacup
are insufficient in relaying your message, instead your voice gets lost in the evening.
You try to stutter out how you haven’t opened it, how words don’t just flow
from your pen like they flow from his, how the paper-airplanes he’s tossed you just clunk on the windowpanes
and they do not enter inside, although you sort of wish they did, but the wind
is not strong enough to compel you to throw him a paper-airplane response in the dark.

It is too much to talk to him, too much to throw your worries into his dark
heart and have them go from vibrant to stone cold in his grasp, and the prospect of it all makes your teacup
shake and tremble in your pale weak hands, pale like paper, paper that can just blow away in the wind
like it was nothing. You reminisce of warmer days in the summer, with the sunset in the evening
and his hand clasped around yours in the lavender field, like you were a flower to treasure and display along the kitchen windowpanes,
And you would beam and spill yourself everywhere and your leaves would flow

onto the countertop, because you are this all-pervasive and growing creature in tune with the flow
of the universe. You are bigger than the secrets and things that stay in the dark,
and it’s perfectly okay that the windowpanes
have shutters, the okayness of it all was shocking when you first realized it, when the trembling of the teacup
finally ceased. The warm brushstrokes of evening
align themselves and coat you in secret invisible paint so that you can blend in with the wind



and let it carry you somewhere fresh and clean and terrible, where the wind
sweeps through alleyways like a madman chasing you down with a dagger in hand, chasing you with the flow
and the torrent of words you refuse to hear. When you finally found your resting place, it was evening
and you were in your grandmother’s rocking chair, the old creaking thing; you were wrapped in a blanket of dark
and comfortable, the whispers of undesired contact spinning in your head, swirling in your teacup.
But you’ve come to the conclusion that you can just leave it alone, leave him out of view, because your windowpanes

are frosted over, and you haven’t had much interest lately in clean glass, much less clean windowpanes.
You reach for his letter, not to break the seal, but instead to toss it to the wind.
You pour a brew of uncried tears and a sprinkle of cinnamon into your teacup,
and your thoughts flow
like the gutter outside that’s gushing with heavenly rain, but they’re all pure and good and dark
just how you like them. This has become your evening.

You have no interest in the world beyond the windowpanes. Your pen was not meant to flow

with godly ink, all those thoughts were best left to fly in the wind with the birds and the crawling things that might care to listen to his sermon in the dark.

Fill his glass with holy red wine and lamb’s blood (pick your poison), sure, but not for you and the china teacup….the tranquility of unsealed letters pairs well with your brew in the evening.
Desert Rose Jul 2013
Erica drowns the
Sorrows of her
Horrible life
In alcohol and
Severa vicious  forms of
Self-mutilation
Such as


Erica jabs sharp objects  
Into soft parts of her skin
Just to watch
uncried red tears
gush out of a
Body too broken to still be here

Despite her hardships,
Multiple suicide attempts
Such as tying a noose around
Her scrawny little neck or
Pulling  the trigger
She refuses to admit depression

When she’s really low
She smokes,
Pops pills
Does everything she can
Just to get high

Her life is a nightmare,
Death no longer an option
It’s cheated her out of the
Happiness of the end too many times
Not even the devil could
Salvage her lost soul
Roxy DeNoir Jun 2013
Tonight was lovely my dear
You did very well
Your heart sang with joy
Your smile widened
Your confidence grew
You were not fighting

You were whole
You were happy
You were guiltless
You weren't shy
You didn't hurt
You didn't remember
You didn't blush
You weren't embarrassed

You found the right words to say
Your violin sang with all you had
You said your goodbyes with joy
Sorrow didn't pierce your heart

Joy of confidence
Heart of soul
Mind of laughter

You'll never forget this night of success
Where you didn't want to cut at all
Starve or hit or feel angry
Or hate yourself

You didn't worry tonight
You were surrounded by happiness
You didn't feel like an outcast
You felt like you were one
One of many
Many make a body
And a body make a voice together
Singing joy
Spreading smiles

Remember this night my dear
Remember when you feel down
Remember when you are discouraged
Remember when you hurt
Look at the pictures
Let the memories fall
Like raindrops on your head
Cleaning your mind
Freshening your spirit

Lay down the blade
Uncurl your fist
Open the fridge
Remember tonight
Lay your head on your pillow
Curl up in your blanket
Relive the sights of people swarming around you
The smells of rosin and wood
The taste of cherry cough drops
The smile upon your face
Your friends and teachers smiling with you

You'll miss them so much
Your heart will rend apart
Blood will flow
Uncried tears thicken
Swallowing sobs
Remembering

It doesn't matter if you don't see them again
What matters is how much you think about them

Maybe you'll meet again
Maybe you won't
Remember this
You're never alone
Faisal Bolaki Feb 2019
Once lost in dreams,
Insomniac I became.

When red petals glittered,
Scattered color all around,
With eyes veiled under the dark night,
Colorless I became.

Then words sizzled,
Created storm,
Tore heart all around,
With uncried tears,
Voice choked,
Damp inside I became.

Ghastly winds stripped me naked,
Reality I became.
Gary Cuming Feb 2021
Behind the lies and painted smiles
Lies wounds that cannot heal
The tormented ache of a forgotten world
And a heart that can no longer feel

The outward laugh, a forgotten touch
Defy the darkness inside
The horror of a mind debauched and lost
In a pool of tears, uncried

A quick embrace and wanten love
Beleaguered by apathy and grime
A soulless mess, a repulsive truth.
Evil lingering in an languid mind
R Arora Jul 2017
The tears uncried,
The respect left behind;
Shame visible on face
No, this is not just a phase.
Oh, the humiliation!
It cannot be borne any more.
Will the soul give up?
Can't say for sure.
It fell on me-
The thunder,
**And I got buried
For someone else's blunder.
Lemony life.
Walking, your gait memorizes
Not when you know it
That doesn't count
Because that's different
When you don't know

That's special
A moment removed from
History, unremembered
And is all mine, no one else's
It's not a bounce, or a walk
Almost a combination of both
When every foot touches the ground

Your eyes glisten, uncried tears
And I hope you never cry again
I've been paying more attention
Just lately, and they're so animated
All around back and forth,
But with a sort of tunnel vision
Focused, but in the past

Hands move every word
Flying across the room
Around and around,
Blood tipped nails, work words
Crafted by the sharpest rapier tongue
Building, emphasizing every thought
A crazy, flurry of words, fingers and hands

It's with every breathe you take
Every action, you flow, glow
Fingers to toes
Eyes to heels
Absolutely

And always, yes, I do
Evelyn Genao Mar 2018
I am lifeless.
A heart without a beat.
A body without a soul.
A face without a smile.
Ripped of my innocence and left with the empty shell of who I used to be.
The terror-filled nightmares have me screaming.
I just want everything to stop.

Why am I suffering? Am I the only one?
The only one who cries herself to sleep.
The only one with lines drawn on her arms.
The only one dealing with the shrieking voices in her head, telling her to end it all.
Why do I have to suffer?
How can I be filled with life but remain empty?
Where did it all go?

I feel it. The warmth.
On my skin, but never inside.
I’m cold. Alone. Dead.
Never to know what a smile is. What it feels like.
It was difficult to remember. My smile.
Soft but contagious, it had stained my lips like blood.
The same blood I tasted as I bit my tongue hard to keep from screaming.

My insides are too damp with uncried tears.
I am just a hollow plastic doll with a painted happy face.
The mirror lies to me. Bringing to light all my flaws.
Whenever I saw my reflection, I didn't know who was staring back.
Every day I plaster my face with fake a smile.
I can’t take it anymore.

I am lifeless. A lifeless heartbeat.
I hope you love it and be sure to comment what you think. And please read my other works!!!!
Edgar Mar 2015
How I felt with you near
Rapid heartbeat, unnecessary fear
I could swear I saw it in your eyes
As clear as the sunny skies
If only I could just forget
Then i'll no longer be this upset
These uncried tears
All these years
I love you
And I wish you knew
You might never get another chance to tell someone how they mean the world to you.
Kata Mar 2020
And on the darker side of the sun
He sits in the shadow of happiness
A shadow of yesterdays, yesterdays
he cannot allow himself to remember or
feel. Or talk about or cry about.

On the darker side of the sun, it is
every bit as cold as he could imagine
It is every bit of lonely, without company
There is only uncried tears, unfelt pain
forgotten memories, unspoken, strained
desperate and unanswered pleadings
of help. Littered around him were all the
reasons to stop living and it was these very
reasons that froze over the darker side of the sun

Here, on the darker side of the sun
land of the icy breathe,
charred lungs, ****** gums, burnt guts
twisted spines and a deformed sense
of belonging. he was home. A useless
tongue, never good for anything. Able
hands, only good for one thing,
poetry, maybe ***...nothing useful
I'm afraid.

On the darker side of the sun
the shadows belonged to the mountains
mountains that separated
the two sides of the sun.

Now, there is a boy on the brighter side of the sun
he could not see the other side,
so for a long time, the brighter side
of the sun was the only side of the
sun he knew. He could not see the
mountains, there were no shadows, it
was never cold.

On the brighter side
of the sun, blinding as it is
it was never hot.

A light without
heat, a life without soul is all the
boy knew. A desert without rain. But
who is anyone to say if the
desert misses the rains. Who is to
say that the desert knows of the
rain at all. this is how the boy
lived on the brighter side of the sun.

always thirsty but never knowing it
always hungry but never feeling it
always bright but never warm
always something but never everything
or anything that mattered. But who was
to say, because, on the brighter side of the
sun, he was still alone, it was every
bit as lonely, without company

there is only uncried tears, unfelt pain,
forgotten memories, unspoken, strained,
desperate and unanswered pleadings of
help. this was the brighter side of
the sun, all light and no heat.

But he was born as the sun.
"May we give our children, childhoods they won't have to heal from."
Aurora Soraya Dec 2018
I will never write a poetry about you.

Because what I wrote were my unsaid pains.

Uncried tears.

My broken self.

And I don't want you

To be one of them.

In this world,

Where letters are my warriors,

Words are my wounds,

Sentences are my scars,

And a poem is my pain,

I'll forever keep you

As my whisper of peace

Beyond cold wars.

As my tap of rest

Beyond tiredness.

As my click of happiness

Beyond grief.

Because

You are way more than

Those unbearable pains.

You are way more than

Those uncurable wounds.

You are way more than

Every poetries I wrote, baby.
Altair Tomann Feb 2019
Under my dark skull the
sea of uncried tears
dropping
dropping upwards
                a stream
                   a river
                     a beam
piercing through
penetrating my bone plates immediately
up
to my deeply hidden
anger issues
Isaac Jun 2020
once, it was like a knife
grabbing at my insides,
cutting up my thoughts,
my heart, my mind,
a clear line of chaos spliced
into this line of fire

now, it is but a teardrop
left uncried, sitting on my
eyelid, a muted feeling
that rings harmoniously
through my soul.
As I grow accustomed to pain, I feel scared. How do I know when I've reached the limit?
Mia Mehnaz Jul 2020
Today is a different kind of fight
Today is not bruises and cuts
Grappling with darkness to see
Light and find a sprinkling of
Happy. No, today is darker
Today is fighting just to survive
To taste oxygen in my lungs and
Not bitter sadness or poison
Of hope that never really existed
In the first place, and time waits
For none and honey even memories
Must die. Today is heavy hearted
Tongue biting, palm digging pain
Hot teardrops, throat constricted
Shallow breathing, hurt. Today is
Counting seconds till i can sleep
And smiling pretty for the camera
Even when my eyelids are heavy with
Uncried cries and unslept sleep that i
So desperately need. Today is my broken
Reflection in the mirror, staring hopeless
At this stranger, cutting my finger on the
Shattered glass and I’m bleeding, red and
Oozing rage and i’m- losing myself.
Tomorrow is putting the pieces back together,
Shard by shard, tear by tear,scar by scar
Tomorrow i will not look so unfamiliar,
And this deep longing to know myself
Will fade away. Today is survival and
Tomorrow is living,
Tomorrow is living.
Leo Jan 2018
I have toiled
to gain the praise of stars,
and wandered through fields of pain.

Sought to capture the origins
of the quiet storm,
and to taste the fallen rain.

I have gazed
stark upon the blazing sun,
slow yielding to the night.

Overtaken
and overwhelmed by dusk,
in surrender to sorrow's plight.

But at sunrise
hope drips like dew
from wilted petals of doubt,
as refrained captive
within the sweetest of these symphonies
melodies of blue
rise like the morning sun,
to beckon, to call
come one, come all
join the song of the mourning undone...

And as the fallen rain
steadily falls
amidst the harbored call
I am reminded of how the bitter taste constrained
and lost in tears uncried
joined with drops of fallen rain,
and my soul posed satisfied.
Eleanor Apr 2021
All the uncried tears
All the tears held in
Have nowhere to go but
In and down
Falling into my stomach
Drowning my organs
Extending my waist
I feel so sick
I can't breathe
I am lost and
I am alone
Shared melodies weave through the years,
Truth-swords he guards, hearts shaped like art.
Glances exchanged, drowned in uncried tears,
Feeling slaughter, where tender hearts part.

Holding at wares, he stares down his fear,
Do not rush, for love draws ever near.
With truth in hand, he wields his fierce sword,
Whispered close, secrets flow to the heart.

She guarded love, while he wielded his part,
Trusted in the heart, she sighed, “I forgot.”
VM Oct 24
For what feels like the millionth time, I’m certain that some unseen force, cruel and unyielding, keeps us apart. To name it feels unbearable, yet what else is left to say? We are both so tired of trying. Even the best-laid dreams crumble like autumn leaves underfoot, withering into nothingness. The moment we ached for has long slipped through our fingers, as fleeting as sand, and still, we clutch at separate visions, refusing to let them dissolve.
I continue to write about you—again and again—but these words are ghosts, never meant to find you. And if they do, know this: you were never their intended destination.

Please, I beg of you—turn away from me as I stand, untouched, unbroken beneath your gaze. With a heart heavy as stone, I know we will never gamble on the unknown. So I won’t look back to marvel at the fragile beauty of the dreams we built and shattered. Let us abandon this myth of fate, for fate is nothing but you and me, bound in knots we cannot untangle. If you defy what I’ve undone, or I resist your path, we will both unravel, thread by thread.

They’ll call me cruel, say I play games with your heart—but all I crave is peace. How I ache to die by your side, though you will never know. It would be the sweetest gift—to face the world’s end together, even if the skies fall and the seas rise.

But that will never happen.

Believe me, I have buried you deep, in a sacred, hidden place within my soul where no one can ever reach you. Not even I dare disturb it. No matter how beloved, kind, or beautiful those around me think I am, they will never know your name. When the time comes, when I am ready to bring life into this world, even my children will never need to know you existed. So let go of your foolish thoughts, your defiance against destiny.

If destiny exists, then it is because I can still alter the course we walk. But what do you want from it—surrender? You’ll never truly release me, will you? You will keep questioning fate’s cruel twists, pretending none of this touches you. But you don't have me. Your meals are joyless, your laughter hollow, your friends few. I know how you crave solitude, how you’ve welcomed countless faces into your life, but none of it matters to me. Drowning your sorrow in drink will never numb the ache, and my tears will fall in vain—unless you choose, willingly, to live a life of suffering.

I no longer want to change anything, for I have the right to seek a life bathed in light without you, knowing you are haunted by regret. Or perhaps with you—yet still, I must shine, even brighter. My family and friends would honor you, and your father, the pastor, might welcome me for love's sake, though he might struggle, too. I could even wear another faith for you, but that battle lies within your heart.

By letting you go, I give myself to someone who truly deserves my love, refusing to settle for a hollow, twisted affection. Your pain does not stir sympathy in me anymore. We were never meant to be. You were my first love, and when you leave this world, my heart will break. But if I go first, you will ache too. Fate has already marked us—we will never belong to one another, no matter how we yearn.

I will never say it aloud, but I’ve seen far more of the world, of love, than you ever will. This knowledge will haunt you, though you’ll never hear it from me.

I am a wound that bleeds for you, near or distant, so I beg you—please, for the countless time—please, go. Go far away. Until you string your dreams high, beyond the reach of sky or stars, I will gnaw at the edges of your soul. I will keep at it until you are breathless, until reason deserts you. I am your god, if all gods are cruel. Though it will never make sense to me, I will always be here, ready to be despised by the very love that aches for me.

Believe me, my love—I no longer seek your fondness. Though my heart aches with the same longing, you’ve become a stranger to me, and I can’t reach for you anymore. I’m bound to a path of endless self-repair, chasing after answers to troubles that never cease, while time presses against me like a shadow I can’t outrun.

I'm haunted by the thought of growing old beside you, if your heart quakes at the mere whisper of age. To speak honestly, you are the darkest shadow that has ever crept into my life, yet you’ve etched lessons in my soul that I cannot erase. Like a ghost, you linger in my thoughts, an echo of something lost. Each time you whisper those words—“I love you,” “I miss you,” “If only you were here”—my heart fractures anew, a pain that echoes deep within. I long for a different way, a reality where my reflection doesn’t fill me with despair. Even as I wrestle with my own shadows, you’ve faded from my essence, yet I remain trapped in the cage of my own immaturity, longing for what was never truly mine.

My love, I carry the weight of a love that feels as genuine as the quiet sorrow that wraps around my heart. I mourn the truth that I can never possess you, never truly know the depths of your soul. No one else has been able to cradle this love I hold, a treasure kept hidden beneath layers of longing. Deep within, you are a shimmering light that I sense but cannot touch; you may glimpse my devotion, yet refuse to believe it. And even if you could, you’d find that believing doesn’t bring you any closer to me.

Oh, my love, to linger in this aching void feels like a slow, relentless death. I’d rather sever my own heart than bear this torment of remembering you. The weight of your absence clings to me, an indelible mark of pain and shattered hopes. You have become nothing but a whisper in the corridors of my mind—a bittersweet echo that brings both solace and sorrow. In your fleeting presence, I find a fragile happiness, a stolen moment where I feel cherished against the world’s cold judgment. If I could choose, I would surrender my breath in that sacred place, where loving you is all that remains, and I could hold you close until my final heartbeat.

It's the same old tale, an echo of longing, where unfinished dreams haunt my heart, and my love bears the weight of unspoken words. I yearn to cradle you in my arms, or lose myself in the depths of your embrace, yet I’m paralyzed, caught in the web of hesitation. The thought of losing you, of watching my desires slip away like sand through my fingers, fills me with despair; I’d rather taste death than endure this silent agony, so let me perish without remorse once I've had my fill of you. I am a vessel of torment, my soul a storm of uncried tears. My heart aches, heavy as lead, and though I feel the pull of your presence, it’s a cruel illusion, for time and distance twist our fates into cruel knots. Oh, to hell with the gods who mock our love.

I am forever losing you, and in the quiet of our separation, you slip from my grasp. Our thoughts dance in different realms, unreachable and untouchable. I wish you could see me not as a demon, but as a shadow cast by the light of your understanding. Though I swear to myself I’ll stop loving you, I plead for your heart to turn away from mine.

FOR ****'S SAKE PLEASE LET GO OF ME. FORGET ME.

Believe that my affection is a gift you do not deserve, and that I am a wretched soul, delighting in the agony I cause you. Picture the weight of despair settling in your heart, the haunting realization that you can never claim what your soul longs for. Though I never turned my back on you, I spun a web of falsehoods to set you free. My world remains, a silent witness, forever hoping for your happiness, even as I fade into the distance. But this time, I beg you, find a way to help me carry the burden of this love we cannot share.

My heart feels silenced, as if it can no longer weave words into the fabric of my being, leaving me lost in the silence of uncertainty. On my darkest days, when shadows engulfed me, not even your light could pierce through. Yet there were others, souls who wrapped their love around me like a warm blanket, steadfast in their support as I stumbled through the remnants of my pain. They stood by me, even when I sought solace in the very things that threatened to consume me. In my foolishness and torment, they carved out moments just for me, but oh, my love, the weight I carry is heavier than any heart should bear. I find myself wishing for an end, believing I’ve unearthed a remedy for this ache. But I long to awaken to a life filled with light once more.

I will trace the outlines of other men, and you will. I won’t weep for it, for this is truth—our hearts can yearn freely in the open air. You can seek love wherever it blooms, for I won't bind you. Yet, if the day comes when I exchange vows, what then will become of us? Should I share my joy, knowing it will echo with your heartache, leaving us to navigate the tender ache of what could have been?

No, I’ll turn away, cradling my fragile ego like a delicate glass. I refuse to linger in a place where pain seeps into my heart, for I am not a moth drawn to the flame of suffering. It’s not a yearning for hurt that pulls at my soul; it’s the quiet ache of wanting more than what I’ve been given. I walk away, not in anger, but in a sorrowful embrace of my own vulnerability, leaving behind echoes of what could have been.

I appreciate all of our few moments together and your affection. Even if there are shadows in the corners, a whisper is stirring in the quiet places of my heart—a desire to experience the warmth of life again.

— The End —