I Couldn't Help But Think

I Couldn't Help But Think

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WpMetadataReadConcluída sáb, set 6, 202526m
Poetry, prose, memoir, and rambling words I conjure from the abyss of my soul late at night, dead tired and desperate. Bitter and sweet fragments of a bleeding, broken mind; these are my emotions and the thoughts they leave behind. This is nothing but ache. (Please note that this contains some heavy and possibly upsetting material.) i took this - and my other works - down for a while. i got tired of feeling like i was putting myself out into the world only for my words to be thoughtlessly consumed by an unforgiving void. i was tired of shouting myself hoarse without even an echo in reply. i don't want to shove myself down anyone's throat; i want someone to pick me up by the flute of my delicate glass and savor the taste of my words on their tongue. is it so much to ask that i be known without pushing an agenda? i've decided to re-publish some of the poems in this collection, but if there's no new interaction with this work, i won't add anything else. i've improved my writing since i've written these, but i find no joy in sharing to an unwilling or begrudging audience. thank you to those who have shown their appreciation in the past. it has meant more to me than i can properly convey.
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memoir
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I wrote this because I needed to survive it. Because there are some feelings too big for silence. Some heartbreaks too heavy to carry alone. This isn't fiction. This is my heart, broken open and rearranged into verse. "I saw you standing where the sidewalk curves, and suddenly my chest knew different words." - That's how it started. A glance. A stranger. A feeling I couldn't ignore. "You said we needed to talk. Those five words, I knew. I already knew." - And that's how it ended. Not with fire. With silence. I won't tell you that time heals all wounds. I won't say everything happens for a reason. I won't pretend heartbreak makes you stronger. But I will show you that: You can survive what you think will destroy you. You can break and still become beautiful. You can love someone and lose them and still be whole. You can be your own happy ending. I wrote these poems with tears on my face. I wrote them on good days when I forgot to hurt. Every word is something I actually felt. Every line is a moment I actually lived. "You are not broken. You are breaking open. And that's where the light gets in." - That's what this taught me. That's what I hope it gives you, the comfort of knowing you're not alone.

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