heartbreak
They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
I Care
You're so oblivious, and hey, you're right to say it's none of my business, but we have thin walls between us, and the sound of your heart breaking is the deafening sound of one hand clapping. But that's your hand, clapping, your heart, breaking, that I am witnessing. And I'd never say you lied when you said you were doing nothing; privacy doesn't imply hiding. I'm not seeking your confession, but you show it all in what's not seen behind your eyes: a silence deeper than the depths of the Kraken, a muzzle on the vile smile of your silenced banshee.
By Pixel Floydabout a year ago in Poets
Is the Past a Barrier to Your Future?
Even now, you still think of him, knowing that this is your barrier. Everyone has their own. You're no longer impatient. Walk the path you should with all your heart and repay the tears you've shed. You're no longer anxious. The deeper the feelings, the more you have to retreat step by step. The more difficult the barrier, the more patience you need to understand it.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharingabout a year ago in Poets
Continuing On
Are you being overly sensitive to impatient tones? Probably. Silence might follow and stop the conversation with a friend and avoid feeling the intense anger a partner can cause. That connection with a partner seems harder to break, but a friendship could fall apart – you know those tender, hurt feelings! So, you don’t lay fury on friends.
By Andrea Corwin about a year ago in Poets
Beautiful out of the Ugly
More cautious and careful because I know time creeps up, and I didn’t want nobody to define me stuck, I felt something in my heart for you, walking in the dark for truth. I didn’t want nobody judging me on who I was in the before, I didn’t live for the pretenses, or a label, but rather on a search for trust. It was hard to find that, and when I found it? I was flustered. I had to start believing I was well deserving, all energy conserving, finding ways to say the good for us is all just luck, knife impressions on a ego scared up, on this planet where it all heats up, from still waters make a wave, touch a cloud and send floods, when it rains it pours, at the least it drizzles, depressed a little, undressing riddles while running, reading in between lines of what was unsaid, the cunning. You might know what it’s like growing up, even having to watch relatives suspiciously, because the drugs got the best of them but still find love intrinsically, love that doesn’t always get dealt with justly, so to give love it’s just due, I’ll make beautiful out of the ugly. Then would you love me?
By Trenton Hughleyabout a year ago in Poets
