Heartfelt Poetry on Love, Life & Longing

1. They Loved the Idea of Me

They loved how I stood alone,
how I didn’t ask for much,
how I could hold my own in a room full of noise.
But the moment I reached out,
the moment I needed—
they called it too much.

They told their friends I was different.
Special.
The kind of person that changes you.
And yet,
they never stayed long enough
to be changed.

They liked the fire in my words,
but not the burn of my truth.
They liked the smile,
but turned away when it cracked at the edges.
They wanted my poetry,
not my pain.

They were in love—
but not with me.
They were in love with the idea
of someone like me.
Clean lines.
Soft light.
No mess.
No grief.

2. And Then There Was You

I wasn’t looking for anything.
Not love,
not meaning,
not even a good day.
I was just passing through life,
keeping my head down,
counting hours more than moments.

And then—
you.

You didn’t arrive like a storm.
You weren’t loud,
you didn’t try.
But somehow,
everything quiet in you
made the noise in me finally stop.

We didn’t fall in love at once.
It was in pieces—
slow smiles,
shared silences,
the way your name felt easy to say
and hard to forget.

You asked how my day was.
And meant it.
You listened like
you wanted to stay
even after knowing the mess.

And I—
I started looking for reasons to tell you things
I’d never told anyone.
Not because I wanted to be known,
but because I trusted
you wouldn’t run.

Somewhere between
your laughter
and the way you said goodbye—
I realized:
I had stopped surviving,
and started feeling again.

And if anyone asks
when it happened—
when I knew—
I’ll say:

It was the first time
you looked at me,
and I felt safe
being seen.

3. The Days No One Talks About

Some days don’t scream.
They whisper.
And in that whisper
is a heaviness
you can’t explain to anyone.

You wake up,
but you don’t rise.
You move,
but nothing feels real.
The world goes on
and so do you—
but only just.

You smile at the right people,
say the right things,
laugh at jokes that don’t reach you.
And no one notices
that you’re slowly fading
in plain sight.

You used to have dreams.
Now you have alarms.
You used to run toward things.
Now you just hope the day ends
without too much noise inside.

There’s a loneliness
that doesn’t need silence to grow—
just the wrong kind of company,
and too many unanswered thoughts.

But still,
you go on.
You wear the world like a coat
two sizes too heavy.
You carry yourself like a secret
you’re too tired to keep.

And maybe that’s the darkest part—
not the pain,
but the performance.
And how well you’ve learned
to survive
without anyone noticing
you’re not really living.

4. The Fight No One Sees

They see the smile—
the calm, the control,
the way you carry your weight
like it never breaks you.

But they don’t see the nights
you hold your breath
just to make it to morning.
The tears wiped quickly
before anyone walks in.

You get up every day
not because it’s easy—
but because you don’t know
what else to do
but try.

Some days feel like drowning
in a crowd.
Other days,
you’re just too tired
to care if you sink.

You’ve known the sound of silence
when you needed a voice.
You’ve known the ache
of showing up
when all you wanted
was to disappear.

But still—
you rise.
Not always strong.
Not always certain.
But still.

And maybe that’s the bravest thing
you’ve ever done—
to keep walking,
even with a storm inside
and no map out.

5. I’m Still Here

You’ve pushed,
you’ve pulled,
you’ve built walls made of silence,
and still—
I stay.

Not because it’s easy,
not because I don’t feel the cracks—
but because I still see
the you
beneath the hurt.

You say you’re not the same.
That maybe I should stop trying.
But love,
I didn’t fall for perfect.
I fell for real.
And you’re still in there.
I know it.

I’ve watched your light dim,
but never disappear.
And I won’t walk away
just because the room got dark.

I’m not here to fix you.
I’m here to find you—
again and again,
in every version of yourself
you’re afraid to show.

So break if you must.
Run if you need.
But know this—
I’m not giving up.
Not on you.
Not on us.
Not on the love
that still beats quietly
between every silence we share.

6. When I Saw Her

When I saw her,
something shifted—
not loud,
not sudden,
just a thread in me
pulled quietly taut,
as if the universe
had gently paused
to take a breath.

It wasn’t thunder,
it wasn’t fire—
just a stillness
that said:
pay attention.
And somehow,
without knowing why,
I did.