Novel & Cerita Heartbreak Poetry Books

I harbored a deep resentment toward them, yet I still had to find a way to survive. No longer protected by the Brosnan family, I resorted to using my beauty to become a mistress, only to be pursued by a scorned wife and ultimately sold into prostitution. I got addicted to drugs and contracted various types of STDs. I died on a cold winter night, broke and starving. As I slipped away, amidst a world aglow with lights, not a single one shone for me. In my final moments, I asked myself if I had any regrets. No, I did not.

Heartbreak was poetic. Whoever said this was a total loon and had never took a journey of ugly pain. Heartbreak wasn't poetic. You couldn't write words on it or even think of the rhyming words because all your mind could see was the intense pain swirling in your fragile heart. It wasn't about being awake late, thinking how to express your pain in words or music. No, it was being enclosed within four walls, and having that ugly cry, and blaming yourself where you went wrong. It was having fun with your friends and then out of nowhere feeling this ache in your heart and loosing interest.

I let it pour, wetting my shirt as I cried everything out. I Katherine Thawne, has never been hurt this way before. It felt new...and it raw. Indeed, Heartbreak is the father of all prickled needles. TBC

Argh .... Andien punched the metal guardrail as she shouted angrily. "I hate you, Kenan. I hate you!" Andien screamed again while the sea water began to wet parts of her body as she chose to sit on the bridge that people said was called the bridge of love. It had only been 12 hours since Andien had received Kenan's sacred vows but Andien felt that she was already a widow. Andien tried to hold back her sobs as the tears continued to flow.

Hi guys. I hope you are enjoying this book. Just to let you know that this book is actual a sequel. There are three-in-one series about three sisters - Diane, Malvika and Natasha. The first book, 'Unrequited Love' is about Diane and it's been published on Goodnovel. You can check my profile page. 'Broken Hearts' is the second book about Natasha. The third one, which is about Malvika, would be published after Broken Hearts.

"Yes." "And tonight four hundred people leaned forward." She walks. "The woman with the anthology. Her sister." She pauses. "Edmund's poems gave her somewhere to put it. The grief. The love that has nowhere to go." She pauses. "That is what happens when you click send." "Yes."

Like I can leave the ache behind, scattered on the sidewalk like broken glass. But it follows. It always does. Because heartbreak doesn’t shout, it sinks. Quiet and sharp, curling around your lungs until every breath feels like a war. It’s the lump in your throat you can’t swallow, the sting in your eyes you pretend is just the wind. It’s knowing you were easy to replace. It’s realizing the man who once kissed your forehead like a vow now kisses someone else like it means nothing. It’s knowing you’ll go home to silence while he goes home to her.

He grabbed my wrist tightly, “You can’t start a new relationship on a whim! Come with me!” Godden sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, stretching our shadows across the floor. I pinned his hand down, trying to break free from his crushing grip. I stared at him with a terrifying calmness, “Vittorio, you are always so confident. But, how come you don't get that my heart was broken into a million pieces? It will never be fixed. Not ever.”

Chapter 61: Mimi Pov; I used to think the worst pain in the world was heartbreak. I was wrong. Heartbreak is loud. It crashes into you, makes a mess, bleeds everywhere. You cry, scream, fall apart, and people see it. There's a release in that. There’s proof that something mattered. What I was feeling now was quieter. Heavier. It sat in my chest like a stone that refused to move, refused to let me breathe properly.

I used to have a playful, sweet son, Shawn Sorensen. But now, his skin looked pale and puffy from being underwater for too long. The blood on the severed half of his hand had dried up a long time ago, but it would never heal. People kept telling me to cry and get my pain out, but I didn't. I quietly handled everything for Shawn before placing him in the cold coffin. That was when I got a call from Zach Sorensen.