Quotes About A Broken Soul Novels & Stories

And it worked. “I’ll kill them” The word hung heavily in the air between us for what felt like an eternity. “They will find a way to get even” Melissa whispered as she stared at a spot just above my head. She seemed distant, like a woman who didn’t know what was real anymore. She was looking at the space above me but wasnt actually seeing anything. ‘Like a person who has lost their soul and doesn’t know why.’ And suddenly it became all too clear. This woman was broken.

The courtyard was overgrown with weeds, and the stone pathway was covered in a thick layer of moss. Next door, where my childhood home had once been, was now a bar. From inside, a singer strummed their guitar, their voice drifting through the evening air: "…At the moments that matter most, I finally see it clear, “Your hesitation, “Leaving me to wander alone, “Sober in the midst of dying, “Realizing you were always two steps ahead of me…" My fingers tightened around the keys. The sharp edges dug into my palm, cutting deep.

"It's not my fault you are miserable… Okay, it kinda is but it's not my fault you chose to kiss him over running around naked—" "On a football field! Neo!" I shouted. "And this is no longer about the kiss, it's about my heart—" "And so?" Sighing, I massaged my forehead, lifting myself to sit. "Look, there's nothing wrong in getting your heart broken, it's nothing. If you think that you can survive in this world without heartbreak, then you are not human. It's normal for people who have a heart. Just look at me, I've gotten my heart broken twice, and I've broken about thirty-five girls' hearts all my life—"

I had become a broken vessel, shattered and discarded, just like the windows of my soul. As I stood there, swaying on unsteady feet, I couldn't help but feel like a mere pile of mud, trampled on by the world around me. My spirit was fractured, my hope shattered. But deep down, buried beneath the layers of pain, a flicker of defiance remained. A small voice whispered, "Maybe, just maybe, there's a way to piece myself back together."

"Whose ugliness is permanent?" Her chin lifted. "If you think I'll break, then you don't know what being broken feels like." Her words hit a place I didn't expect. I had seen people snap before. But she was different. "Hmmm, you think you are tough, right?" I snickered. "I will break your spirit and make you eat up your words." "You don't want to know how many times I was broken," she smiled. "Simply put, I can't be broken again."

Then she said, "I think I need to step down. From the council. From activism. From all of it. Let someone else lead." "Is that what you want? Or what you think you should do?" "Does it matter? Either way, I'm not the right person for this anymore. I'm too broken. Too traumatized. Too full of doubt." "Broken people understand pain better than whole ones. Traumatized people appreciate safety more than sheltered ones. Doubtful people make better decisions than certain ones." "That's very poetic. Also not helpful."

"Behind my smile is a broken heart, behind the laughter, I'm falling apart. Behind my eyes are tears at night, behind my body is a soul to fight." *** The darkness of the night made everyone fall asleep so soundly, resting for a moment about the body, heart, and thoughts that sometimes do not go together. Maybe some people don't need a short break, but behind someone who doesn't need it, there are still many people out there who even wish they could rest. Even in the streets, because sometimes there is a house that doesn't deserve to be used as a place to rest for a moment.

Chapter 7 Cleo Nothing hurts more than a broken heart . A broken heart that has not healed properly is like a scar that hasn't healed properly . On the surface everything looks standard; however when you go deeper you are still blue and black from the blow that you sufferd at the hands of the one who swore love , protection, and stability. If dealt with sooner the scar can heal if not it can rott and cause major problems. Imagine baking a cake that flops. Proper healing happens from the inside out. When you nurse your broken heart too long thinking that you're okay you end up discovering that the damage is worse than initially thought and its somehow spread to your soul. So not only are you

“It didn’t feel like fighting. It felt like… drowning.” Ghost’s gaze didn’t waver. “That’s what it feels like when someone breaks you down long enough. You start believing the water’s stronger than you.” He stepped closer, but not too close. Just enough that his presence anchored her. “But you’re still here. You didn’t let it take you.” Her eyes burned, tears stinging. She dropped her gaze, whispering, “I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending I’m not broken.” “You are broken,” Ghost said simply. “We all are. Difference is whether you stay shattered, or let people help you put the pieces back.”

He is rubbing little circles on my forehead, talking so lowly like singing a lullaby to send me to sleep. “Your broken soul will mend me, understand? Don’t give in to the heat, darling. Just, hold on. Please!” He’s desperate, his voice is even breaking. I want to stare right into the windows to his heart, but my vision is too soggy. And one thing he said turns the wheels in my brain. ‘Your broken soul will mend me.’ Haven’t I heard that before? “‘You’ve everything I need. You are going to mend me.’ That’s what he’ll tell you, coaxing you to be one of his many Hansels or Gretels.”