I wasn't in love.
No, this isn't a romantic poem,
Entailing details of a lover's spat.
It's a poem that tells tales,
Of lost hope and forgotten dreams.
A story of despair,
Filled with raw heart break and tears.
The sound of a breaking heart
Is quiet yet so very loud.
The pain paralyses you, rendering you sad and hopeless.
You lose the will to do anything at all.
You lose interest in everything you love.
You find it so hard to get out of bed,
Knowing already that it'll be the same as yesterday.
Oh how lonely it feels,
You want to talk to someone, anyone but you can't.
You don't want them to feel sorry for you,
To keep things from you because they pity you.
So you put on your mask,
And go on as usual.
Even if you eventually find someone,
Who won't throw you a pity party,
You eventually find out that nobody gets it.
All they do is apologize for things they didn't do,
They tell you things will get better but they never really do.
Some people are pure evil, pushing you deeper into your despair.
They tell you things like "someone else is going through worse"
They kill your hopes with their poison disguised as comfort.
You just keep on praying,
Hoping,
But nothing seems to improve.
They tell you "there's a reason for everything"
"Then why can't I find it?"
They tell you that "you're not alone"
"Then why does it feel like the opposite?"
It just doesn't make sense anymore.
I'm trying to relax stay positive but it's so hard.
My heart just keeps breaking,
It mends itself,
Then something comes along and breaks it again.
Sometimes it's quiet, so no one knows.
I don't want them asking me questions,
I don't need any attention.
I already know they don't get it.
Sometimes it's loud and I'm crying in public,
They still don't understand, they try to help,
They see the cries for help on my status but they don't help then.
They know there's nothing they can do.
Maybe a day will come when my heart doesn't break on a daily basis,
When things will finally get better and everything won't hurt as much.
But I guess until then I'll keep on listening,
Not to it's beat but to the sound it makes when it's breaking,
Sometimes loud, oftentimes quiet.
YOU ARE READING
Her thoughts in words
PoetryHere's a book full of interesting and actually pretty relatable poems for you to enjoy. From poems about the good ol'days to the ones that rip you apart because of how deep they are, this book isn't your ordinary collection of poems. Just see for yo...
