Emotional. Poems - Poems about Emotional.

The classroom is a quiet forge, and I, a blade in silent fire— shaped by care, tempered in calm, honed to serve a brighter purpose. But into this heatswept chamber she storms, a tempest cloaked in titles— her words the hammer’s fall, striking without measure, without proof. She holds a flame to my calm steel, asking why I do not sparkle like she: “Why do...

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I wasn’t searching for magic— but then you smiled, and the world quietly forgot how to turn without pausing to admire you. You walked in like a poem the sky had kept hidden, and suddenly, my silence learned to speak in verses shaped by the way you exist. You are not just beautiful— you are the reason the word beautiful was ever spoken aloud. As if the universe grew...

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You’re tired, and you’re on your own. Stopping now won’t find you a home. Roaming the streets, searching for a safe place to sleep, Too scared of what strangers might think of you. Scared it’s always going to be this way. No one to turn to. No one to trust. The ones you called friends, the distant family— They betrayed you the...

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He loved her like the last day of autumn — knowing she'd leave, but holding on as if his hands could change the season. She wasn’t just a chapter — she was the entire book he never finished, because he kept rereading the parts where she smiled. He built a world around her absence, talked to her like she still listened in the silence of 3 a.m....

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The world demands identity— a name, a face, a history. But in its grip, you lose your way, and shame is what they make you pay. They drag your truth into the light, then twist it wrong and call it right. They dress you up in guilt and fear, then whisper lies for all to hear. A coin of shadow tempts the soul, Whispers...

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She was a field– soft, wide, aching. He was the match, small but hungry. They met not in spring, but in that breathless hush before things grow– where hope is still half-buried beneath frost. She held the rain like a secret. He wore the fire like a promise He never meant to keep. She broke without a sound He burned like it was prayer. and yet– in the blackened soil, something...

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Insight must be difficult for you when you’re wounded so easily. You can’t show it, of course, to show your scars and flaws would be considered weak to you, since they can be used against you. So you hide and twist words and speak with blame and hatred. Do not show them your hurt, show...

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My chest holds echoes none can hear, A hush of thoughts that won’t appear. What once was warm now drifts like mist, A weight unseen, too dense to lift. Each fracture blooms a quieter scar, Where bitter seeds still grow afar. No shore, no flame, no sense of tide— Just vacant halls I roam inside. By day I wear a borrowed face, By night...

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I left because my body broke, And weighed with grief, my spirit spoke. I told you oft, I made things clear, Yet pressure came—not care, but fear. No shame I bear for what I owe, I acted true, as you well know. The key I left, the money too— What’s lost beyond, I never knew. I paused before I took my leave, Awaiting peace...

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Laying down wondering where did you go after visiting my dreams from time to time? A regular guest you became, Now I see you less and less leaving my memories in such an emotional distraught, as you left a feeling I thought I would never have, a desire unknown, a burning sensation leaving me trembling whenever I fall asleep dreaming hoping to see you but terrified to awake in our...

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And you never knew— how many times I stood on the edge of your name, typing and erasing, drafting words that felt too fragile to send. I wrote the messages, but never set them free. My thumb hovered over "call" like a ghost remembering how to hold the living. Not because I didn't miss you— God, I did. But silence sometimes feels safer than a voice...

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Each morning drifts like mist— soft, uncertain, but somewhere in its hush, I feel the weight of something turning dark nearby. I once imagined this place would be still, that the walls would not echo with things unsaid. But peace, it seems, is not something we always share. Patterns repeat— whispers circling like wind in a cage. The days loop like shadows on the same old path, a wheel that...

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They told her, "Words are just air". But air can bruise, and silence can tear. She learned to bleed in quiet tones, Each syllable a crack in bones. They carved her name in crooked lies, They laughed when truth leaked from her eyes. Words were chains that held her tight, sweet on tongues, but edged with bite. They dressed...

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A covert narcissist dressed in a hand-me-down victim cloak, Master of the tear-tantrum tactic — He sniffles, sobs, and simpers until your defenses drop, Then slides a betrayal in your back so smooth you almost thank him. A codependent parasite latched to his mother’s emotional tit like a tick, Bound by an enmeshed dynamic so tight you'd think she birthed...

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I broke away not so long ago, But there are things I want you to know. I survived, yes, but I’m not yet healed— A healthy life still unrevealed. I wake each day often with a start, Worry and wariness still haunt my heart. Pains of the skin are all long gone, But the uncertainty still breathes on. Starting my day, I follow...

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