Careless Whisper

🧉

Hey

Once you see the world through the unfiltered lens, it's never the same.

You don’t go silent because you don’t care You go silent because you’ve been loud in all the wrong places before. _hoppelessoptimist

In English, we say “I’m fine.” But in poetry, we know it means “I’m unraveling.” We cover the cracks with smiles, paint over the truth with pleasantries, because that’s how we survive— by hiding the storms behind calm eyes. But in poetry, we don’t have to lie. We don’t have to say that we’re whole when we’re barely holding on.

She is in her twenties but she is still in the teen drama

It is what it is

There are scars you can point to and say this is where it hurt. And then there are scars that look like empty spaces in your mind, like shelves where the books have been stolen.

couldn’t sleep. thoughts running laps. what if i am just background noise in my own story? crossed out the line.. still read it again. sometimes i rehearse conversations i’ll never have. they sound better in silence. the word “enough” keeps staring at me. maybe it’s laughing, maybe it’s begging. i can’t tell anyway.. i’ll keep writing until the pen runs out or i do. —hoppelessoptimist—

Could’ve been something real, if timing had a heart. Would’ve been everything, if love knew how to stay. Should’ve been ours, if we were both ready but we weren’t. And now it’s just a story I don’t tell out loud, a name I don’t flinch at anymore. It’s all over. It’s all gone. And somehow, I’m still here. _hopelessoptimist_