If you had asked me years ago
if I wanted my heart broken,
I would have laughed at the absurdity of the question.
Who would ever want that kind of pain?
But now, looking back,
I realize I am no longer that girl.
Because if you asked me today,
I think my answer would be yes.
Yes, my heart was broken.
And somehow... I don't regret it.
I would go through the same pain all over again
because of the person it forced me to become.
I became someone who knelt before her broken pieces and bled,
but still chose to gather them back together
one by one.
Slowly rebuilding herself into someone new.
Not untouched.
Not unscarred.
But real in a way she had never been before.
And maybe that is the strange thing about heartbreak—
sometimes it destroys the version of you that existed before it,
only to create someone stronger, softer, and more alive
from the ruins.
So no,
I no longer fear having my heart broken.
Because I finally understand
that some things must first fall apart
before they can become something beautiful
.
YOU ARE READING
|POEMS| The untold words...
Poetry|I never told you And you will never know The secrets the stars whispered to me That night under the moon| Cover credits to: @LeroyGraphics
