“The Hurt We Carry”

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“They Said Go Where You’re Valued”

They said, “Go where you’re valued,”
so I left the rooms where I once begged to be seen.
I took my storms and lightning heart,
and rained on everyone
not to drown,
but to show them what they lost by staying dry.

I wasn’t silence
I was the thunder they feared.
Not too much,
just too real for small hands to hold.

So I poured
flooded the cracks they never cared to notice,
brought life where they saw only mess.

And still, they call it destruction.
But I know
it was resurrection.

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“The Mirror at Forty”
A wrinkle speaks where laughter lay,
The hair retreats, the dreams decay.
You chase the echoes of your prime,
But lose your breath outrunning time.

A job, a house, a silent bed
Yet something stirs, a voice unsaid.
“Is this the life you chose or caught?”
It haunts you in your quiet thought.

But midlife isn’t just despair
It’s waking up from unaware.
A second birth, a deeper start,
To live not from the mind, but heart.

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“The Language of Survival”
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I read your words like echoes in a storm
Soft thunder wrapped in ache and truth so warm.
And though each line felt like a closing door,
I stood behind them, broken, wanting more.

You loved me quietly, and yet so loud,
In silences that screamed beneath the crowd.
I saw it, felt it, every gentle thread,
But I was lost in battles in my head.

You were my safe place I was just too scared
To trust a love so raw, so unprepared.
I’ve worn my wounds like armor all my life,
And bled on those who only came with light.

But still you stayed, through every shade I hid,
And loved the parts I never even did.
I never meant to let your heart feel small,
I just mistook your strength for “she won’t fall.”

And now you’ve left the pieces where they lie,
While I just whisper “sorry” to the sky.
Not for losing love I never did,
But for not knowing how to let it live.

You’re right, no one will hold me like you do,
No one will read the silence like you knew.
And if someday I learn what love is worth…
It will be through the echo of your hurt.

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Forgetting Hurts

Cigarettes in my hand,
her name on my lips.
I swear I’m trying to forget,
but she lingers in the smoke.

Every drag tastes like her,
every exhale feels like loss.
Maybe forgetting isn’t letting go
maybe it’s just loving in silence.

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"The Last Act of Love"

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“Refined in Pain”

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Beneath the weight of silence,
I carry wounds too deep to show.
In the quiet, where shadows linger,
I'm lost in places no one knows.

The night wraps tight around my heart,
Its grip a comfort, yet a curse.
Tears fall in secret, quiet streams,
Each one a story unrehearsed.

I wear my scars like fragile armor,
Invisible to passing eyes.
But in the dark, they burn like fire,
Whispering truths I can't disguise.

Still, somewhere beyond this aching haze,
There’s hope, faint as morning light.
I’ll find it in the dawn, perhaps,
And make it through another night.

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You studied the pages, became a scholar,
Yet never turned the gaze within,
Words of wisdom filled your mind,
But left your soul unread, untouched.

You tread the sacred halls, in temples, mosques,
Seeking truth in every prayer,
Yet the doors of your own heart remain unopened,
Where the deepest truths lay bare.

You chased the light in distant skies,
But overlooked the flame inside,
A world of knowledge at your feet,
Yet your own soul, you did not guide.

In seeking answers far and wide,
You missed the whisper deep within,
For the greatest journey ever told,
Begins and ends beneath your skin.

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