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Midnight confessions

At midnight hearts begin to speak, The strong grow fragile, lost, and weak. The silence opens every door, To hidden truths we can’t ignore. Midnight confessions softly fall, Like shadows dancing on the wall. The words we hide through all the day, Find moonlit courage on their way. “I miss you” sounds much more sincere, When only stars are left to hear. And broken souls stop wearing masks, Beneath the night that never asks. Perhaps the dark was always kind, A place where truth could breathe and shine. For hearts speak loudest after scars, In whispered talks beneath the stars.
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Memories can Hurt - Poem

Memories can hurt
like glass pressed softly
against the skin of the mind,
not deep enough to bleed—
but enough to sting.

They echo in quiet rooms
where laughter used to live,
shadows stretching
in places once warmed
by presence,
by love.

They arrive uninvited,
draped in familiar scents,
a song, a street corner,
a certain look
someone else wears.

And you remember
not just what happened—
but how it made you feel,
the warmth,
then the absence,
and the silence that follows.

Memories can hurt
because they matter,
because they remind you
of what was real,
and what is no longer
yours to hold.

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