Hurting Poems Novels & Stories

The city looked the same with cars honking, people rushing, life moving forward but inside me it felt like the entire world had tilted off balance and refused to set itself right again. If I had to put a word to the silent shattering of my heart, the aching tug that pulled at my chest with every step, it would be heartbreak. Unfortunately, it’s not the kind people write poems about or heal from with tubs of ice cream. No, this feels like heartbreak laced with poison, like I willingly swallowed something fatal because I knew it was going to hurt, because deep down I knew I was the cause of my own ruin. The words Grant spat at me last night won’t stop replaying in my head. They circle endlessl

He showed it to her once again as it read, “But I am sorry, Florence, but I do not think it is a good idea right now. You are still recovering from the accident, and seeing their bodies might be too much for you to handle.” The words Florence read struck her with a force that shattered her heart into a thousand pieces. Her trembling hands gripped the bedsheet, her tears flowing freely, a relentless torrent of grief. The pain was overwhelming, a depth of suffering she had never known before. The word “hurt” seemed strongly so inadequate, as if it was just a mere whisper compared to the deafening roar of her agony.

Time passes slowly and cruelly, Leaving deep wounds. Every smile you once warmed, Is now a frightening nightmare. My heart that was once full of love, Is now just meaningless fragments. You left without a word, Leaving wounds that never subside. Behind the curtain of the dark night, I whimper in deep silence. Love that was once a healer, Now becomes a poison that infiltrates subtly. In every breath, There is a sense of loss that cannot be erased. I tried to hold on with my remaining strength, But this love has destroyed.

The year before everything went sore, a tear drop slid down my eyes and I quickly stopped it with my finger. As the silence lingered on with Harry drowned in his own thought, a poem came to my mind “WRAP YOUR WINGS AROUD YOUR PAIN, FTRANSFORM YOUR PAIN INTO BEAUTIFUL WINGS LET IT TAKE YOU FAR AND BEYOND, BEYOND THAT WHICH HURTS THE MOST’

It really hurts so much… I don’t like this pain… Mommy… Please make this pain go away… What did I do wrong? I am sorry… I just want you to like me… Please stop being mean to me…. It hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts… My heart hurts…

It outturns same result. Her once rapid beating heart beats nor pumps no more. It's all empty, quiet and soundless. It's void. I gasp painfully. I really am highly pained and hurt. My heart wells and bleed. Feels as though numerous flaming wooden spike's uniformly peirce into and through my skin. Well it ain't no friendly pierce. My eyes also reddens. It reddens really badly. It visibly explains my every hurt and pain. Hurt over Hermonies death.

Everyone I got close to ended up hurt. “You don’t have to be fine,” he said softly. “Not here. Not with me.” “I can’t—” My throat closed up. “My mom is gone. Your brother tried to kill us. And I’m standing in your kitchen at 3 AM, trying to pretend none of it happened because if I start feeling it, I might never stop.” “Then don’t stop.” He stepped closer, and I could smell his cologne, faint but still there. “Feel it. Break. I’ll be here to pick up the pieces.”

Medicine coated the back of it. Bitter. Plastic. Stale. I tried to swallow. My throat scraped against itself. It hurt. A small sound slipped out of me. Not a word. More like an old door complaining as someone forced it open. The yellow light above me shook. No. Not the light. My eyes. My eyelids felt packed with sand. I opened them a fraction, then shut them again when the light stabbed all the way into the back of my skull. There was a sound. A chair scraped back fast.

A hollow ache spread through me, mirroring the icy grip that stole the warmth from my life. “I thought I’d lost you forever. Each day is like fighting with a sharp knife lacerating my heart ever so slowly. Each day you think it healed, but it wasn’t. And you think it gets better, but it gets worse. More painful and I’m struggling to go on,” she continued, as she stared at my face, but not seeing me. Her eyes filled with sorrow, and I felt the pain.

Pain… I know pain. I know how it feels, how it can twist and break you until you’re nothing but fragments of who you used to be. I’m shattered, and I can’t be fixed. Happiness is fleeting—whenever I think I’ve found it, it slips through my fingers, leaving me even more broken than before. Have you ever been in a place where you can’t cry anymore, even when you desperately needed to? When the tears just won’t come, no matter how much you want to let it all out?