heartbreak
They can break your heart, but they can't break your soul; poetry about lost love that comforts and uplifts.
When I Wasn't Enough, I Still Stayed
I gave everything and more to people who only wanted pieces. I stayed long after they stopped looking at me like I mattered. I laughed so they wouldn’t notice the cracks. I showed up so they couldn’t say I didn’t try. But some hearts are locked from the inside. And I never had the key. They told me I was strong as if that made the silence less loud. I wanted to be someone’s first choice. But I was their backup plan. Their “maybe.” Their “not now.” Their “if things change.” And still, I stayed. Not because I lacked pride but because I had hope. Now I look back and see the version of me who waited, who hoped, who broke quietly in their absence. And I want to tell him: you were enough. You were just in the wrong place with the wrong ones.
By Hazrat Usman Usmanabout a year ago in Poets
The Day I Stopped Expecting Answers
I used to ask why. All the time. Every night. In whispers and in thought. Why did they leave? Why didn’t they see me? Why didn’t I speak up when it mattered most? The questions stacked like bricks in my chest. Heavy. Sharp. Unanswered. I waited for signs. For moments. For healing that never knocked. I tried to explain it to myself, to friends, to blank pages. But no reply ever felt enough. No reason ever softened the ache. Until one day, I stopped. Not because I understood. But because I got tired. Of chasing closure in places that only echoed. Now I carry the silence. Not as a burden but as proof that not everything needs to be solved to be survived. And that, somehow, became my peace.
By Hazrat Usman Usmanabout a year ago in Poets
People Leave Like Seasons Do
I didn’t know that silence could speak louder than doors slamming. I didn’t know that absence could feel heavier than anger. Some people leave like winter leaves quiet, slow, inevitable. They fade, not because they hate you, but because they don’t know how to stay. And maybe they never did. You reread the last message. You scroll, you remember, you ache. They go on. You remain. You wonder if they ever meant those promises. Or if you just wanted them to. But truth is, some people aren’t meant to walk your whole journey. They teach, they touch, then they vanish. And you you learn to carry your own warmth. Because next time, when someone leaves, you’ll still have yourself. And that will be enough.
By Hazrat Usman Usmanabout a year ago in Poets
A Whisper to the One Who Knows me
To the One who knows me — a prayer
By HasanSoulInkabout a year ago in Poets
