hurt

It’s been six months since the papers made it final,
But it’s been two years since he truly left.
Still, I wake with the ache--
My heart splintered, my life in pieces on the floor.
I carry the weight of failure,
As if every crack in my family was my doing,
As if I was the one who let it all slip away.
Love stories sting--
Even a stray commercial or a silly romcom
Can unravel me,
Tears burning,
Hands pressed to my mouth to catch the cries
That threaten to escape--
Cries of shame, of pain, of a sadness so deep
It echoes.
I mourn what I lost--
Not just a husband,
But the dream, the warmth, the sense of home.
The wound is raw,
Tender to every memory,
Still bleeding beneath the surface.
I feel abandoned,
Cast aside,
Left to wonder if I was ever worthy--
Worthy of love, of being cherished,
Of being seen and chosen.
I look back and see only shadows--
A life of quiet heartbreak,
A love that was never truly mine.
I look ahead and the future feels empty,
A long road without a hand to hold,
No promise of being loved
With the kind of devotion I once prayed for.
Sometimes I wish I could silence the longing,
Shrink the ache for a love that lifts and fills--
But I am who I am,
A woman who yearns for passion, for laughter,
For a love that feels like coming home.
Freedom was supposed to be a gift,
But some days it feels like a cage--
A wide, echoing space
Where loneliness sits beside me.
I search for hope in the emptiness,
Asking the night,
Where is my future?
Will I always walk alone?
But somewhere, beneath the ache,
A whisper stirs--
I must have faith.
I am trying,
Even when my heart is bleeding,
Even when it feels like no one sees.
Maybe healing is slow,
Maybe hope is quiet--
But I am still here,
Still breathing,
Still believing that I am worthy,
That love—some kind of love--
Will find me again.
And until then,
I hold my own hand,
And let the light in,
One small, brave moment at a time.

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