Question

The Quiet Things

I learned to live
by swallowing storms
the kind no one sees,
the kind that teach you
how to smile with a mouth full of rain.

People say time heals,
but really it just rearranges
the furniture of your pain
until you can walk through the room
without bruising your shins.

Some nights, though,
I still trip on the memory
of who I was before I knew
that love can be a promise
or a weapon
and sometimes both.

And I hate that I’m still learning
how to forgive myself
for the things I did to survive
as if survival were a sin,
as if breathing through the wreckage
wasn’t holy in its own way.

But I’m here.
Somehow.
Carrying the shape of every hurt
that tried to carve itself into me
and all the pieces I refused to let go
because they were the last proof
that I once felt deeply
and wasn’t afraid to bleed for it.

Answer 1

n I'm sorry for everyone iv hurt

Answer 2

Good job on your poem

Answer 3

ty dear

Answer 4

its really good and it shows a purpose

Answer 5

Sometimes I wonder if you’re really remorseful or is this just to make it seem as if you really care. Regardless nice work with your poem.