Hurting Poems Novels & Stories

Certain storms don’t make a wave. Certain winds don't crash abroad. The night dies, and morning brings joy. But wounds delve deep remains, when the sun lifts. The rising lights never heal deep cuts of a broken night. Sorrows never die, in a smiling sun. My soul crashes, when our eyes meet. My sight fades, watching guilt parade his stare. His frown grows deep, his brows shrinking, while his lips shift. I hear silence waving through my head. Stinging rings of steel, singing through my ears, like rifting sounds.

“It’s fine if you don’t want shrimp, El! Why go as far as pushing me?” I never imagined that she could lie so brazenly. Benedict’s face burned with rage. He stood protectively in front of Melissa. “El, that’s going too far! Mel only meant well. How could you hurt her like this?” The thick, scalding soup seeped through the gauze right into my open wound. Pus started oozing from the gash. The searing pain made me break out in a cold sweat, and I could only speak slowly.

Nicole's POV; I proceed towards them and, "And to think you are the competition my group was meant to go up against. Little wonder one wanted to pair with you. Why don't you go join the school's book club? Dancing isn't for cowards. You're such a horrible dancer. You've ruined the whole event for everyone. "I hear Mason say, and the pained look on Johan's face hurts me. "That's not nice! "I comment. Drawing their attention. Johan looks up at me with tears in her eyes, and Mason stares at me with a bored, and blank expression.

The pain in my voice echoed through the night, a haunting reminder of my shattered dreams and broken heart. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks—our bond was irreparably broken, and no amount of wishing or hoping could change that. As I howled in pain, another howl joined mine, sounding as painful and heartbreaking as my own. Maybe someone else out there was feeling the same heartache as me—a connection in our shared suffering.

Dakota POV . . It's f*cking hurt! This mere sacrifice I made just to escape from that gigantic cage. D*mn, my arm's still in pain like b*tch. Purposely slipping on a wet bathroom floor was torture-suicide, I would not recommend it.

With a trembling hand, fueled by a surge of anger and sadness, I gripped the vase tightly. A surge of adrenaline coursed through my veins as I hurled the vase against the wall with all the force I could muster. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the room, the shards scattering across the floor like fragments of my broken spirit. Each shard mirrored the shattered fragments of my own existence, a stark representation of the pain that consumed me.

Hope POV There is something inside me that I didn't think could break anymore, I thought I had already suffered all the pain, physical and mental. I have lost loves, friends and enemies. I have shattered and reinvented myself. I felt my soul being torn, my skin being burned, my bones being broken and my muscles being ripped. I knelt and begged, I prayed and cursed. I cried tears of blood watching the souls of some comrades being annihilated. I cried because I lost a love, I cried because I lost lovers, I cried because I couldn't be close to the one I longed to be with the most. I cried and begged for the pain to stop.

One bleeding. One broken. One burning. I closed my eyes. If I wasn’t allowed to exist— Then I’d burn down everything that said I couldn’t.

Beneath the Ruin I’ve been hiding from the silence, Drowning out the noise inside. Built a life on fear and shadows, Just to make it through the night. Every door they’ve locked behind me Still remembers who I was. But I don’t want their crown of violence. I don’t want their twisted love. I’ve got scars they’ll never see, Cuts too deep for blood to show. And I’d burn it all to ashes Just to be someone they don’t own. There’s a girl beneath this damage That they never got to break. She still sings beneath the ruin,

No—not just yet. Today I’m something to forget. So I bend low and scrub the pain, And wash the floors again… again. Because for now—this silent role… Is all they let me be… or know. When chores were done, I slipped away, To wash the weight of hurt and day. The water fell in silver streams, Like it could cleanse my fractured dreams. I stood beneath it, eyes closed tight, Letting sorrow fade from sight. As if the drops could steal the ache,