These Wounds Won't Seem To Heal Lyrics Novels & Stories

I let her inside my heart and letting her go was going to fucking hurt. But I'll get over it...maybe one day. I plugged in my earphones and let my soul drown in the darkness. It felt like I was being reborn again. I can't breathe (Chopsquad), I can't breathe, 999 Waiting for the exhale I toss my pain with my wishes in a wishing well I can't breathe, I'm waiting for the exhale Toss my pain with my wishes in a wishing well Still no luck, but oh, well I still try even though I know I'm gon' fail

I feel totally comfortable with no worry. "So should we compose a song or should we just sing?" He asked. "Let's just sing" I said and he replied with an 'okay' turning on his piano. "Let's sing the one we composed yesterday" He said and i nodded. We cleared our throats.. "Ready?" He asked. "Of course" I said happily. We started singing; 🎵Wounds fades with time. 🎵Our worlds begin to cross path. 🎵You made me exist in your world.

Wounds that nothing could heal except vengeance. My fingers tightened around the remote. I would remain dead, just as they wanted. But I would return when the time was right—and I would serve them the evil they had dished out to me. That was another vow, signed with blood and tears. One month later I was rejected again. I let out a sigh and slumped onto the single couch in the middle of my apartment. The place still smelled of fresh paint, every sound echoing off bare walls. After being discharged from the hospital, I left London. There was no point staying in a city where I was supposed to be dead.

I questioned, tears dripping uncontrollably from my eyes. I looked away, toward the window. A small breeze stirred the curtains—just enough to bring in the scent of the sea, reminding me of nothing and everything all at once. "Will it ever stop?" I whispered. "The shame, the feeling that I’m ruined, the thought of how those bastards made me strip naked, fucked me," I bawled. He stepped a little closer, his voice quiet. "You weren’t ruined, Ayla, you were wounded. There’s a difference. And wounds can heal—when they’re finally treated."

“And you still wanted to have coffee with me?” “Why wouldn’t I?” “Because I’m broken.” He leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “You’re not broken. You’re wounded. There’s a difference.” No one had ever said that to me before. Not in those words. “Broken things can’t be fixed,” he continued. “Wounded things can. They leave scars. But they heal.” I looked down at my hands. “I don’t know if I’ve healed.” “Maybe not all the way. But you’re healing. I can see it.”

To hell with treating this guy’s wounds. I’m adding more!

Vivienne saw the guilty look in his eyes and she took a deep breath to calm herself as she questioned, "You really didn't expect that I'd still be stuck in the past, right?" Noah didn't dare to look into her clear grey eyes as he replied, "Well, I was hoping that you'd be stronger." "Some wounds are not easily healed. They say time heals everything but I learned that time isn't that helpful. It's not time's job to heal your wounds and it's our own responsibility to heal our own wounds. But we tend to avoid picking at those wounds and consider that once they scabbed, they have just healed. Then one day, someone comes and picks at those scabs and you realize how easy it was for those old wound

As I stepped into the wild, wind biting my skin, I whispered into the silence: “For every wound I caused, I’ll carve a hundred protections. For every trust I broke, I’ll guard a hundred borders. And for every life I shattered… …I’ll build a wall so strong no harm ever comes through again.” This wasn’t redemption. Not yet. But it was a start. And this time, I’d walk the path alone—until the day I could look into their eyes and say: “I came back whole.”

"But it looks like you look worried right now." "Oh yes? Seems like it's just your feelings!” Where there is desire, there will be fire. Where there is fire, one will surely burn. But, only because it burned. It doesn't mean you will die, in the end, you have to keep getting back up. After this night is over, everything will be fine again. There will be no more tears, no more pain. It's okay, after all, it's all been lost since eight years ago. *** March 20, 2014, Indonesia.

She cupped my face again and I almost groaned. "You're so cute!" She confessed and my heart did a flip flop dance. How the heck does simple words affect me so much? "I know" "But really cocky….", I raised my body to leave but she wrapped her hands on my neck tightly. "Don't go…just stay for a moment, I don't know how but my wounds are healing and I don't feel any pain". She said and my eyes widened. "Huh?" I was surprised, I didn't licked her or something somehow. Is it Possible for her wounds to heal?