heartbreak
They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
Names No One Calls Me
I used to think I was someone. A brother. A friend. A reason to be missed. Now I hear my name less each day. People speak around me. Through me. Over me. Never to me. Even the mirror looks confused. Like it forgot who I am or why I’m here. I walk past crowds and feel transparent. Not invisible. Worse. Like they see me but decide not to look. No anger. No hate. Just absence. Just air. There are names no one calls me anymore. But I still answer to them in my head. Because that’s where I still exist. Where I am still someone.
By Hazrat Usman Usmanabout a year ago in Poets
Shadows Where We Sat
We used to sit right here. Same spot. Same hour. Back then your silence meant peace. Now it feels like absence. Like a sound missing from the air. I watched the sun fall again today. It slid behind those trees like it knew it wasn’t welcome anymore. I waited. Like always. Not for you I’ve stopped hoping that. I waited for the ache to feel smaller. But it doesn’t. It knows exactly where to sit when you don’t. There’s a shadow next to mine. I pretend it’s yours. So I don’t have to say what we both left unsaid.
By Hazrat Usman Usmanabout a year ago in Poets
They Never Noticed
I was there. Every day. Same seat. Same silence. I smiled when they spoke. Laughed when expected. But no one asked how I was. No one noticed my hands trembled when I reached for the door. No one saw the tired in my eyes. I dropped so many hints like glass. But they all stepped over without a glance. One day I didn’t come. And finally they asked. Where is she? Is he okay? Did something happen? But by then, I’d already disappeared. Not from life. Just from them. Because you can’t miss what you never really saw. And I was never really seen.
By Hazrat Usman Usmanabout a year ago in Poets
Not Everyone Stays
Some people say forever like it’s a greeting. Like it costs nothing. But when the sky starts falling, they leave without a sound. No goodbye. No reason. Just silence louder than any scream. I waited at the door with questions in my hand. But no one came back to answer them. Maybe they never planned to stay. Maybe I was just a season they passed through on their way to something better. The hardest part is not the leaving. It’s realizing they were never really here to begin with. And still I miss them. Even if they were just passing shadows. Even if they forgot my name the second they walked away.
By Hazrat Usman Usmanabout a year ago in Poets
Chairs That Stay Empty
There are chairs that stay empty. Not because they were never filled, but because no one asks where the person went. They stop showing up and somehow, it becomes normal. We adjust to the silence like it’s furniture. Nobody says, "Where is he?" Nobody says, "She’s not okay." We let people slip through cracks and call it life. But it’s loss. It’s grief in slow motion. It’s a voice that used to laugh in the kitchen and now doesn’t echo anywhere. We grow used to absence like it's polite. Like it’s part of the plan. But there’s nothing kind about forgetting the ones who left without a sound. Some chairs are empty. And no one notices.
By Hazrat Usman Usmanabout a year ago in Poets
