Poetry About Hurt Feelings Novels & Stories

“Love isn’t supposed to hurt, Ethan. If it hurts then it’s never love. Love is for better or worse,” my voice choked as I uttered those words. But I continued. “But your love, Your love is like walking through thorns, pine, needles—one’s that prick my skin at every turn I make. Till you finally bleed me dry leaving me desolate.” My chest clenched in pain knowing every word I uttered was the truth. I could see clearly that my words affected him. He looked away, his teeth clenched hard as he growled.

His love and care felt like torture. Profound sadness flitted through his features. But that did not do justice to the pain gripping his insides. His chest felt hollow. It felt as if someone had crushed his heart in their fist and plucked it out of his body. Those words were like acid bleeding into his veins. He had never been this hurt before. " You don't mean it," he almost implored. He hoped it would snap her from whetever trance she was in. Whatever made her speak such things. His heart was writhing in aguish.

Isa is just another nobody that doesn’t care if I die tomorrow. And those two corpses, oh how I miss them out of nothing. Why? Why am I grieving for you? Why do I care? Grief is like a ball in a mason jar filled with a single ping-pong ball. All this time, a fourth-dimensional hand keeps on shaking this jar, and every time the ball hits the glass walls of the jar it hurts. It fucking hurts so much. Why am I allowed to hurt?

"Every now and then I have these melancholic moments that are not good for my spirit, not right now. Luckily, I’m able to pull myself out of this state of mind thanks to my writing. Pouring my heart into my poems, writing about my pain and my anger, makes me feel good, it purifies my tortured soul. It gives me back the courage that I lose every time the only person left in the world who should love me, treats me as if I were a stranger, an instrument to achieve his goals." Under these words, Shawn saw one of Belle’s poems: If I was a simple candle, capable of gradually melting from one end to the other, without second thoughts, touched by some strange magic, I'd like to see my head melt firs

I'm staring at my laptop screen, rereading the last few paragraphs of the chapter that I've ever written. "It didn't really hurt that you chose her over me in the first place. I knew the moment I whispered the word "love" into your ear, you'd walk away from me, and it didn't bother me in the least. It didn't hurt at all — because the hurt is a word that can be said in a split second, and what I was feeling was nowhere near that level of pain. You didn't mean any harm to me at all. Inflicted more than wounds that I would be able to treat not in a heartbeat but over the course of several seasons if I had to. Despite the fact that you barely scratched my skin, you inadvertently scathed my unpro

feeling embarrassed as my cheek turn red but also a slight pain " Why are you looking at my guy like that"the voice of Brenda startled her and that Moment I felt a really sharp pain in my heart, he already has a girlfriend, he did not wait for his mate "am not staring, am just waiting for my brother here" that was the only lie that came to my mind, moreover I don't want to look like a weak lady in front of them, without waiting for her reply I immediately ran out of the gym room Jasper POV

he was madly in love with his wife, tears started to fall from her eyes and she sat in the ground I hurt myself today To see if I still feel I focus on the pain The only thing that's real The needle tears a hole The old familiar sting Try to kill it all away But I remember everything What have I become? My sweetest friend Everyone I know goes away In the end And you could have it all My empire of dirt I will let you down I will make you hurt I wear this crown of thorns Upon my liar's chair Full of broken thoughts I cannot repair Beneath the stains of time The feelings disappear You are someone else I'm still right here What have I become? My sweetest friend

The betrayal cut deep, tearing at the very core of his soul, leaving him raw and vulnerable. The wounds inflicted upon him were not merely physical but wounds that seeped into the depths of his being, gnawing at his trust and shattering the bonds of friendship. The echoes of their voices reverberated in his mind, each word a sharp blade that pierced through his defenses. The hurt that swelled within him was a relentless wave crashing against the walls of his heart. He felt the sting of tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Instead, his jaw clenched tightly, teeth grinding in a futile attempt to suppress the torrent of emotions threatening to consume him.

I go farther into the Tempest pack forests because I won't cry anywhere they can see me. I feel so silly that tears are even dropping from my eyes but I don't understand what’s going on in my heart right now. And maybe it was the mean words about me being the reason someone killed themselves, or the meanness itself, but it’s hurt me. It hurts me with the kind of pain that makes swallowing hard and blurs my vision with tears. Wh…. What have I done to be hated like this?

So is the teacher little, or you in pride have grown? I am hurt, wounded within. I couldn’t fulfill the cause for which I enrolled. Couldn’t gain confidence. I am torn apart, hurt by part as well as whole. I couldn’t save it. Today still, maybe. I still couldn't explain how much I mean to be fit. Tears don’t bother anymore. I feel pain without any water or substitute. Hurt, wounded deep, I do not weep. I can feel the pain for now even without a real weep.