Member Poem

"I Am the Ocean of Wounds"
(a colossal lament of love that never ends)

I am the ocean of wounds,
swallowing storms born from sleepless tears.
Even the sky gave up crying for my story,
until the clouds broke their bones under the weight of endless longing.
Lightning refuses to strike, fearing the sorrow I gulp down whole,
while the night simply sits, watching me without mercy,
letting me sink deeper into pain without a bottom.

My heart—
a city abandoned by time—
silent, cracked, mossed with memories,
screaming in silence behind bars of your fading shadow.
I still walk down the streets of your memory,
though every step bleeds with shards of hope you shattered.
I wait in hours that have long died,
hanging prayers on the walls of time that no longer remember my name.

I loved you like the sun loves the day,
even when the day burns it to death without a second glance.
Your name is a prayer I whisper more often than I breathe,
as if if I stopped, the universe would collapse and vanish.
You never knew—
my heart beat in syllables of your name,
and every second was a suicide note
written in the ink of sorrow.

If love is a knife,
I am the wound that begs to be reopened,
again and again,
just to see you smile—
even if that smile was never meant for me.
I am the broken glass from a love you crushed,
still standing, still shining,
even though the light cuts me from within.

You are the eternal eclipse in my soul,
a poem the sky could never finish writing,
a story fate could never bear to read to the end.
And I—
am but a fragment of a star that fell too far
to return to any sky.
I have written poems with the air in my lungs,
hoping a single line would reach you,
but the world is too loud,
and my voice too quiet to ever be found.

Look closely—
even rainbows refuse to paint my sky.
No color dares to dance in this ruin of love.
I cry in ways no ear can hear,
and laugh with a voice made of cracks.
Your love was like a god,
one I worshipped in secret,
even though that god never knew
whose prayer kept him alive.

And now,
I am the wreckage of a ship long sunken,
adrift in an ocean of regret,
hoping to drown…
or be rescued by you—
who never even realized
you were the storm that sank me.