Novel & Cerita Heal A Broken Heart Poem

One she hadn’t seen before. Page 47. Her breath hitched. She flipped to the page. A poem one she remembered well. It had been her favorite once. Some loves aren’t meant to stay. They come to show you who you are when no one else is watching. She closed the book slowly, her throat tight. He hadn’t written it, but he’d known. He’d remembered. That night, as she sat on the balcony, the city lights below flickering like scattered stars, she thought about how strange it was how sometimes the people who break you still leave you with the tools to heal.

Not just lust. No matter how hard it'll be, we will try to hold on; we promised each other. A promise that we shall keep even though certain promises are meant to be broken, we don't want ours to be broken. Hours and hours of being near each other, loving one another, we finally know what its like to heal. We finally understand how our broken hearts can be mended. One weakness. Me calling his name. When we're in bed, of course.

She was supposed to have loved me, not break my heart six days before deployment. They say that a broken heart can heal just as a broken arm or leg. Well, am I not then the opposite of that? My legs are still broken, and so shall my heart remain. She gave me so much happiness; who knew that she could give me just as much pain. Even though my heart is bleeding out, I shall not show her a single tear.

I see my future, I see the light. I see the love, I see my goal. I see the fire that lies dormant, In the heart of time. I see the joy that springs forth, At the mention of my name. I see the love in your eyes, I see the scars you try to hide. I'll tell you I'm broken, Not for you to mend me, But that I'd mend you. For even the broken, Remembers what it's like to heal,

Yourself, body and soul. A broken heart loves deeper once mended. A mended heart knows real love is worth the price of shattering once more

"If it was a piece of paper, I would tear it. If it was a bottle, I would break it, if it was a wall, I would tear it down - But it's my heart" ~Mahmoud Darwish The words sunk so deeply, creating a large gap in my soul. There was just something so devastatingly beautiful about romantic poetry, I loved it to no end. The idea of loving someone to the point that you yearn for them, their very person, every inch of their skin, every habit of theirs, every peculiar trait is picked, loved and immortalized.

I said and I examined her emotion, her eyes widen in horror and chaos. "I'm sorry but I couldn't get what you mean. I don't know what you are saying, kid. go home!" She said and to get her interest I recited the poem in front of her. "My love he was gone, But my heart still belongs to him, And he was my only happiness. He was somewhere in another world now, But my heart still hears his heart, I could feel every beat of it, And it was a pain, For our souls belongs to a different world!" I spoke loud and clear as I tried to examine her again, she was tight-lipped and began to burst out tears, unexpectedly.

But you stayed patient, standing there, Gentle hands and steady care. No grand games, no cruel dare, Just quiet truth laid soft and bare. And now your voice lives everywhere— Inside my thoughts, beneath my stare. One forehead kiss, and I swear, The world felt lighter than despair. Maybe healing starts somewhere Between being chosen and being aware That love was never meant to tear— It was always meant to meet me there.

The sad what is, when something comes to an end, then it comes to an end. Mekayla was, well, yes, as her name says, Mekayla. Mekayla that comes with sunshine, that brings a new day. She was the light of my life. I will not lie, even though I tell everyone how mad I am, that I still love her with all my heart. That, loving Mekayla, that will never go away. What heals a broken heart? Let us ask what breaks a broken heart even more? Well, that is not being able to see my children. I should be there in that house with them right now, but the reality is that Mekayla does not want me there.

They thought we were in love with each other, but when you grew up as we did, then you’d know, family is important. ‘You have to understand that I can’t just hand you my heart either because people trampled on it already. I don’t even know if I can piece it back together. You know, like Humpty Dumpty, some parts are now so tiny they're like chalk. What do you do with that? I’m broken, and you probably won’t want me, anyway.’ ‘I have to go. Let me wash these, so you can leave,’ she scrambled to leave again, scared of his answer.