Do ghosts get tired of haunting? Of chasing old flames in darkness, of walking through dreams casting shadows against walls, against hearts, do they feel themselves forgotten?
EMILY KURCA sea of jumbled emotions I had longed to live again, a feeling that no metaphor could match.
More Emily Kurc Quotes
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I thought time would heal my broken heart, but its been forever since I fell in love and I’m scared that you took pieces of me that can’t be replaced.
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There was a time when I loved you too much that it made me feel the darkest shades of blue. It’s been years now, but I’m seeing life in other colors again.
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Soft and sweet and wrapped around your fingertips.
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When the leaves begin to fall, I find myself returning to old playlists in hopes that I can feel you holding my hand, or kissing me goodnight, or hear you singing my name into songs and blueing when it makes no sense.
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Each night I sit at my windowsill like a wolf howling to the moon, hoping that somewhere you feel me calling to you.
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I like to think of myself as the sun, but it gets really lonely all the way out here especially when everything I try to touch burns.
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I no longer wear my heart on my sleeve. Instead, I keep this love folded up, like a tiny paper plane, until my heart is ready to soar again.
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I hope you think of me during every thunderstorm.
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You don’t deserve my poetry. I hate that I give you that satisfaction still.
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In a dream like haze, the moment you left still spins on repeat like a broken record.
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I am still weighed down by unspeakable heaviness- It follows like shadow currents.
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Your name still tastes like poison in my mouth.
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I don’t love you anymore. But each time you begin to fade it makes my heart feel numb.
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Even the places we used to visit in this empty town feel lyrical. My heart can’t help but sing along even now, but I’m tired.
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I have so much love to give even with these daggers still stuck in my heart.
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I taught you how to love so you could get it right with someone else.
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I laugh and I cry and I reason on until the late night, but I never feel the urge to call you. The person that I once knew is forever frozen in time.
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Each time I fall back in love with myself, I leave my pen and paper behind. It isn’t personal, or maybe it is. I just a always thought that poetry was for the hurting.
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There was a hesitation in your touch only time could see.
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The future belongs to those who are brave enough to speak up about things that matter.
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Faded secrets and old voices have built towns inside my heart. Thats were we still meet.
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I learned to make art with my broken heart.
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A sea of jumbled emotions I had longed to live again, a feeling that no metaphor could match.
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There were still embers scattered around me from the bridges I have burned. I wonder if they can feel it too. The space between us lingering like a scarlet letter, I’m learning how to love again.
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The sky was crying so I wiped away her tears, just like all the times she did the same me.
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Men like you were never meant for storms like us.
EMILY KURC