unsaid
- Reads 850,733
- Votes 67,325
- Parts 134
'I wanted to speak oceans, but only told you a drop.'
#itsnotaphase
{Started on Jan 10, 2017}
{Ended on April 1, 2018}
#1 in poetry (when the ranks used to actually matter) for 365 days (and more).
All Rights Reserved
#869
longing
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These are truths I was never taught to speak. Here lie the words I swallowed, the pain I buried, and the questions they told me not to ask. For the unheard. For the unseen. For the ones who feel too much in a world that tells them to feel less. I write for you. I write for me.Complete
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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.Complete
Can I Say Goodbye?
I'm always searching for something worth staying for but I can't seem to find that until then please don't mind me because I'm just a traveler passing through. When I'm not satisfied or happy I'll leave and find a new path, so just let me say goodbye... Can I say goodbye? I wrote till my hands bruised and heart bled. I wrote and wrote in hopes that some day, somebody will understand my words and all the things I wish I could say... Each poem is a story. My story. Some are fictional but most of them are true. I know you're curious. From painful heart breaks to high school stories. A person dealing with mental illnesses, fears and abuse. Won't you like to know about the drama?Complete
Scarred Gem
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Blooming Words
words don't write themselves Instead, they grow and bloom in the minds of us allComplete
Amore.
This is a series of short stories, poems and thoughts I've written over the years, compiled into this collection. Most of these were written years ago. Some I've written as early as this year (2025). The purpose of this volume is to feel. Feel everything as though you are the main character experiencing each emotion expressed through my writing. These are written through my perspective as a woman, but please let this resonate with you regardless of your identity. Please vote, comment, like and share. Thank you! - nhiamareComplete
Echoes of the Heart
These are pieces of my heart-love, heartbreak, longing, and hope. Read, feel, and maybe see your own story reflected in these words. "Tell me-what hurts more: Knowing the person you love will die, Or knowing they're alive, Yet you can never have them?" - Elizabeth #1 destroying #1 poetrylovers #1 poetryoflife #1 poetryofthesoul #1 echoesoftheheart #1 destroying #1 forthebroken #1 healingthroughwords #4 Motivation #1 poembook
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best rank: #29 in #myyouth #35 in #feminism #61 in #selflove #68 in #thoughts #30 in #poetry ~explain what love means to you. •if I could explain my definition of love, I wouldn't ever have to write a poem again•Complete
Medicine
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w r e c k a g e ✓
❝ − It's a terrible thing, the destruction of words.❞ All rights reserved @ o p t i c a l i t y | 2017Complete
These are truths I was never taught to speak. Here lie the words I swallowed, the pain I buried, and the questions they told me not to ask. For the unheard. For the unseen. For the ones who feel too much in a world that tells them to feel less. I write for you. I write for me.
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