No one succeeds at heartbreak.
I built myself a throne room out of pizza boxes and empty Lunchables.
And I can’t stop crying into my Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup.
But one day, I’ll cry myself a fountain of youth.
Let’s go back to the beginning.
I’m tired of self-help tips and friendly pick-me-ups.
I drank up bottles and bottles and bottles, pretending their mouths belonged to someone else.
But I’m done feeling sorry for myself.
Because why apologize for loving until you burst?
My capacity to feel needs no pardon.
My heart needs no mending.
I am not broken, I’m just a little more explosive.
About the Creator
Just being kind is enough in this world?
There’s a well-known saying that suggests financial strength is the source of anyone’s confidence; money, it claims, can remedy all inferiority complexes. The notion is that kindness is futile — excellence is the key.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharinga day ago in Poets
The Voyeur's Incandescent Reasoning
The woman sat nonplussed, in the Waiting Room. In a sort of daze, looking straight ahead patiently. She had already had three small breakfast's that morning and a nip of sherry, this was not unusual she would typically wait until an hour after she took her anti-depressant and was her morning routine. She was merely following instructions she assured herself, shifted slightly in her seat and feeling a little heart burn thought, maybe she should skip lunch. Dom had said to have the task done this week. She was well used to his methods and desired to get this over and done with soon. She glanced at her watch, smiled weakly at the Receptionist who was there for a moment and then gone.
By Canuck Scriber L.Lachapelle Author7 days ago in Fiction
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