u/TheCabbageHeart

For you and me, life is not the end, But every road, each turn and bend. Its worth is found in all we do, In every dawn we travel through.

It waits beside the arriving trains, In whispered hopes and window panes. Then iron wheels begin their song, Carrying dreams that pull us on.

It’s walking where the old trees lean, Through paths that hold what we have been. Each fading leaf, each golden sky, Reminds us moments pass us by.

It’s every dream we dared to chase, The scars of struggle, marks of grace. The prize may vanish with the day, But what we learned becomes the way.

It’s empty chairs and silent rooms, The echoes left by love that blooms. The sweetest joys, the deepest scars, Still shine like distant, patient stars.

It’s ringing steel and clashing plates, Where courage meets the weight of fate. Each drop of sweat, each breath drawn slow, A quiet victory we come to know.

It’s music rising in the chest, The restless fire that will not rest. The voice that calls the spirit free, To become the soul we’re meant to be.

It’s stopping just to turn and see, The road that shaped who we would be. You look behind at what you’ve done, And meet the person you’ve become.

For no two journeys share a name, No heart can walk another’s frame. The paths we choose, the lives we weave, Become the stories that we leave.

Because every journey writes its name, And what you leave will still remain.

For you and me, life is not the end, But every road, each turn and bend. Its worth is found in all we do, In every dawn we travel through.

It waits beside the arriving trains, In whispered hopes and window panes. Then iron wheels begin their song, Carrying dreams that pull us on.

It’s walking where the old trees lean, Through paths that hold what we have been. Each fading leaf, each golden sky, Reminds us moments pass us by.

It’s every dream we dared to chase, The scars of struggle, marks of grace. The prize may vanish with the day, But what we learned becomes the way.

It’s empty chairs and silent rooms, The echoes left by love that blooms. The sweetest joys, the deepest scars, Still shine like distant, patient stars.

It’s ringing steel and clashing plates, Where courage meets the weight of fate. Each drop of sweat, each breath drawn slow, A quiet victory we come to know.

It’s music rising in the chest, The restless fire that will not rest. The voice that calls the spirit free, To become the soul we’re meant to be.

It’s stopping just to turn and see, The road that shaped who we would be. You look behind at what you’ve done, And meet the person you’ve become.

For no two journeys share a name, No heart can walk another’s frame. The paths we choose, the lives we weave, Become the stories that we leave.

Because every journey writes its name, And what you leave will still remain.

I'm a battered soul with a twisted smile, A nervous laugh, a pensive style.

Wrapped in thought, consumed by feeling, A fractured man, yet I'm healing.

Tortured more by mind than scar, Chasing truths that drift too far.

Grasping knowledge where hope had frayed, Searching for light where shadows stayed.

The deepest wounds were not from foes, But those I loved and trusted most.

Yet even pain became my guide, And whispered, "There's a strength inside."

So yes, I am a damaged soul, A wounded heart that seeks its home.

In torment, I found where peace resides, Between anxious thoughts and a love that died.

We learn ourselves when all seems lost; The hardest lessons bear their cost.

Yet what remained when all was through, Was simply this: I'm finally true.

I release the past; I fear no dawn. The future comes; the moment's born.

I dwell within this feeling somehow, And learn the quiet of here and now.

Knowing that I'm healing still, Not seeking perfection, but a quiet will.

I'll find my voice, reclaim my soul; At last, I'm learning to be whole.

To the one who broke my heart and walked away,

I raise my glass to you today.

Like DiCaprio's knowing grin in that old meme,

A toast to the wild ride we'd seen.

​

We rode the highs, we braved the lows,

Through twisting turns and heavy blows.

A reckless dance, a dazzling flight,

Two sparks that burned too fierce, too bright.

​

We struck like fire against a fuse,

A firework neither could refuse.

We climbed and climbed through smoke and flame,

Toward the blast for which we came.

​

Incandescent with violet glow,

We lit the sky in awe and show.

But as all things that burn so bright,

The explosion dimmed and gave way to night.

​

I think of you with a quiet smile,

Though it's been many a healing mile.

No curse, no spite, no final plea,

Just thanks for what you helped me see.

​

For from the fire that lit the sky,

I learned to bend and not to die.

So here's my toast, my last adieu—

To the self I was before the awe.

​

Cheers to a wild ride.

To the one who broke my heart and walked away,

I raise my glass to you today.

Like DiCaprio's knowing grin in that old meme,

A toast to the wild ride we'd seen.

​

We rode the highs, we braved the lows,

Through twisting turns and heavy blows.

A reckless dance, a dazzling flight,

Two sparks that burned too fierce, too bright.

​

We struck like fire against a fuse,

A firework neither could refuse.

We climbed and climbed through smoke and flame,

Toward the blast for which we came.

​

Incandescent with violet glow,

We lit the sky in awe and show.

But as all things that burn so bright,

The explosion dimmed and gave way to night.

​

I think of you with a quiet smile,

Though it's been many a healing mile.

No curse, no spite, no final plea,

Just thanks for what you helped me see.

​

For from the fire that lit the sky,

I learned to bend and not to die.

So here's my toast, my last adieu—

To the self I was before the awe.

​

Cheers to a wild ride.

What if the love I gave was searching for the me I'd lost, A silent hunger dressed as hope, no matter what the cost.

I poured into your cup until I saw it brimmed, While mine grew light beneath the weight of all I'd slowly dimmed.

I gave that love so willingly, believing it would stay, Until I learned the love I need I cannot give away.

So now I keep a little more, not out of pride or fear, But so the heart I left behind can find its way back here.

Not ego's voice that asks for more, nor vanity's demand, Just learning love was never meant to slip like sand through hands.

For every time I gave myself to fill another's space, I lost a little of the light I now must learn to trace.

And if I love again, I'll bring a fuller, steadier flame, Not seeking someone else to heal what only I can name.

For love is not the art of leaving fragments where we stand, But carrying ourselves along, and offering an honest open hand.

Another year has found its way to you, Bringing new roads and skies you've wandered through. And though our paths no longer run the same, I still smile softly when I hear your name.

Time has a way of changing what we hold, Turning bright stories into threads of gold. Not lost to distance, nor faded by goodbye, Just resting gently beneath a different sky.

I'm grateful for the chapter that we knew, For who I was, and who I became with you. Not because it lasted, but because it was true, And its quiet gifts still travel with me too.

So on your birthday, this is all I wish: Days filled with peace, and moments you won't miss. Laughter that lingers, people who are kind, And a future that brings you the things you're meant to find.

Wherever life has carried you today, I hope it meets you gently on the way. And though our story rests where it should be, I'll always be thankful for the part that included you and me.

Happy Birthday

In manuscripts and sacred verse,

we’re told that sins may be reversed,

that grace can wash away our shame

and leave the soul untouched by blame.

​

Yet still I find it hard to see

how this alone can truly be:

can those who caused another’s pain

walk heaven’s fields and feel no stain?

​

For heaven is where my loved ones stay,

where Mum and Nan have gone their way—

not some reward for cleansed belief,

nor comfort shaped to fit our grief.

​

And still I wrestle what is just,

what time should heal, what truths we trust,

for mercy spoken without cost

can leave me feeling something’s lost.

​

Yet heaven is not far above,

not reached by pleading, faith, or love;

not beyond some distant shore,

nor guarded by a golden door.

​

It flickers in the kettle’s steam,

in a half-remembered waking dream,

in quiet rooms where no one speaks

and light lies soft across their cheeks.

​

It lives inside the breath we take,

the small unguarded steps we make—

not something waiting to be earned,

but something briefly, faintly learned.

​

In thunder’s break and blackbird’s cry,

in dusk stitched through a changing sky,

in wind through hedges, salt on air—

a presence moving everywhere.

​

I hear it in the tapping rain

that writes itself against the pane;

I see it in the streetlight glow

on pavements where the slow hours go.

​

It is not hidden, coded, deep,

nor truth locked somewhere we must keep,

but something lived and bodily—

in all the ways we come to be.

​

And still I ask: if harm was done,

does light accept what can’t be undone?

Or is forgiveness something learned

when seeing shifts and fire is turned?

​

Forgiveness is not calling right,

but loosening its hold on our sight—

not letting past and injury

build walls around what we can be.

​

So learn from all your yesterdays,

but do not let their shadows stay;

do not build homes where echoes call,

or live inside what cannot fall.

​

For memory can turn to chain,

a comfort woven out of pain,

while life, still knocking at the door,

keeps asking us to look for more.

​

So feel the weight of now arrive,

the brief exactness of alive;

let each breath ground what you pursue—

your heartbeat a call for life and you.

​

And still I do not claim to know

how justice and forgiveness go.

I only walk where light feels true,

and know that heaven lives in me, and you

In manuscripts and sacred verse,

we’re told that sins may be reversed,

that grace can wash away our shame

and leave the soul untouched by blame.

​

Yet still I find it hard to see

how this alone can truly be:

can those who caused another’s pain

walk heaven’s fields and feel no stain?

​

For heaven is where my loved ones stay,

where Mum and Nan have gone their way—

not some reward for cleansed belief,

nor comfort shaped to fit our grief.

​

And still I wrestle what is just,

what time should heal, what truths we trust,

for mercy spoken without cost

can leave me feeling something’s lost.

​

Yet heaven is not far above,

not reached by pleading, faith, or love;

not beyond some distant shore,

nor guarded by a golden door.

​

It flickers in the kettle’s steam,

in a half-remembered waking dream,

in quiet rooms where no one speaks

and light lies soft across their cheeks.

​

It lives inside the breath we take,

the small unguarded steps we make—

not something waiting to be earned,

but something briefly, faintly learned.

​

In thunder’s break and blackbird’s cry,

in dusk stitched through a changing sky,

in wind through hedges, salt on air—

a presence moving everywhere.

​

I hear it in the tapping rain

that writes itself against the pane;

I see it in the streetlight glow

on pavements where the slow hours go.

​

It is not hidden, coded, deep,

nor truth locked somewhere we must keep,

but something lived and bodily—

in all the ways we come to be.

​

And still I ask: if harm was done,

does light accept what can’t be undone?

Or is forgiveness something learned

when seeing shifts and fire is turned?

​

Forgiveness is not calling right,

but loosening its hold on our sight—

not letting past and injury

build walls around what we can be.

​

So learn from all your yesterdays,

but do not let their shadows stay;

do not build homes where echoes call,

or live inside what cannot fall.

​

For memory can turn to chain,

a comfort woven out of pain,

while life, still knocking at the door,

keeps asking us to look for more.

​

So feel the weight of now arrive,

the brief exactness of alive;

let each breath ground what you pursue—

your heartbeat a call for life and you.

​

And still I do not claim to know

how justice and forgiveness go.

I only walk where light feels true,

and know that heaven lives in me, and you

I'm thankful for the love you gave, The light you shared, the way you stayed.

I'm grateful for the lessons earned, Through every joy and bridge we burned.

Though not the path our hearts once dreamed, Time shapes the selves we’ve always been.

I stumbled, as did you, it’s true, Each flaw a step toward something new.

No blame remains, no debts to mend, Just wisdom carried to the journey’s end.

I place my hope where growth begins, And seek the self I’ve longed to win.

The part I lost through grief and pain Has found its way back home again.

Though we have reached our final part, I leave with peace and a fuller heart.

As time has passed and the seasons have turned, I still hold the love that once brightly burned. Not lost, not forgotten, nor cast far away, But kept with me gently in a quiet place.

No longer a weight that I carry each day, Just a memory I visit in a peaceful way. I still miss our friendship, the companion in you, The laughter we shared, and the comfort I knew.

Yet I no longer long for the love we once had, I’ve made peace with the ending, both joyful and sad. Some stories are meant for a season in time, To shape who we are before changing their line.

So maybe our goodbye was always meant to be, Our chapter completed—for you and for me. The winter of us has softened and gone, Giving way to summer, and the warmth of moving on.

Though our paths now wander where they must roam, I hope you find happiness wherever you call home. I hope that you flourish, that you heal and grow, And discover new joys that only time can show.

May peace find your heart when the days feel long, May your smile return steady, certain, and strong. And may you be surrounded by kindness and light, Finding reasons to laugh in the days and the nights.

I say this with honesty, simple and true: I carry no bitterness when I think of you. Only gratitude for the moments we shared, For the love that we gave, and the ways that we cared.

And as this chapter rests where it was always meant to be, I’ll remember it fondly— a beautiful part of our story: you and me.

As time has passed and the seasons have turned, I still hold the love that once brightly burned. Not lost, not forgotten, nor cast far away, But kept with me gently in a quiet place.

No longer a weight that I carry each day, Just a memory I visit in a peaceful way. I still miss our friendship, the companion in you, The laughter we shared, and the comfort I knew.

Yet I no longer long for the love we once had, I’ve made peace with the ending, both joyful and sad. Some stories are meant for a season in time, To shape who we are before changing their line.

So maybe our goodbye was always meant to be, Our chapter completed—for you and for me. The winter of us has softened and gone, Giving way to summer, and the warmth of moving on.

Though our paths now wander where they must roam, I hope you find happiness wherever you call home. I hope that you flourish, that you heal and grow, And discover new joys that only time can show.

May peace find your heart when the days feel long, May your smile return steady, certain, and strong. And may you be surrounded by kindness and light, Finding reasons to laugh in the days and the nights.

I say this with honesty, simple and true: I carry no bitterness when I think of you. Only gratitude for the moments we shared, For the love that we gave, and the ways that we cared.

And as this chapter rests where it was always meant to be, I’ll remember it fondly— a beautiful part of our story: you and me.

Time stopped in an instant, the whole day standing still. Was it truly you I saw, or memory bent to will?

I pictured you smiling — or maybe it was hope, a stranger with your features my lonely eyes could cloak.

My chest stirred with a flutter, my thoughts unraveled free. Could it be the girl who still holds my heart in secrecy?

Probably not. Coincidences pass each day. It wasn’t you — even if I wished that way.

You’ve gone beyond us now, into a life anew. Still, the image brought me comfort, if only for a moment or two.

Because before love faded, before everything fell apart, we were friends first — heart to heart.

And maybe that’s the hardest part: not the dreams we couldn’t mend, but losing the quiet comfort of calling you my friend.

The Hardest Part

Time stopped in an instant, the whole day standing still. Was it truly you I saw, or memory bent to will?

I pictured you smiling — or maybe it was hope, a stranger with your features my lonely eyes could cloak.

My chest stirred with a flutter, my thoughts unraveled free. Could it be the girl who still holds my heart in secrecy?

Probably not. Coincidences pass each day. It wasn’t you — even if I wished that way.

You’ve gone beyond us now, into a life anew. Still, the image brought me comfort, if only for a moment or two.

Because before love faded, before everything fell apart, we were friends first — heart to heart.

And maybe that’s the hardest part: not the dreams we couldn’t mend, but losing the quiet comfort of calling you my friend.

-can we still be friends?-

Time stopped in an instant, the whole day standing still. Was it truly you I saw, or memory bent to will?

I pictured you smiling — or maybe it was hope, a stranger with your features my lonely eyes could cloak.

My chest stirred with a flutter, my thoughts unraveled free. Could it be the girl who still holds my heart in secrecy?

Probably not. Coincidences pass each day. It wasn’t you — even if I wished that way.

You’ve gone beyond us now, into a life anew. Still, the image brought me comfort, if only for a moment or two.

Because before love faded, before everything fell apart, we were friends first — heart to heart.

And maybe that’s the hardest part: not the dreams we couldn’t mend, but losing the quiet comfort of calling you my friend.

Time stopped in an instant, the whole day standing still. Was it truly you I saw, or memory bent to will?

I pictured you smiling — or maybe it was hope, a stranger with your features my lonely eyes could cloak.

My chest stirred with a flutter, my thoughts unraveled free. Could it be the girl who still holds my heart in secrecy?

Probably not. Coincidences pass each day. It wasn’t you — even if I wished that way.

You’ve gone beyond us now, into a life anew. Still, the image brought me comfort, if only for a moment or two.

Because before love faded, before everything fell apart, we were friends first — heart to heart.

And maybe that’s the hardest part: not the dreams we couldn’t mend,but losing the quiet comfort of calling you my friend.

Time stopped in an instant, the whole day standing still. Was it truly you I saw, or memory bent to will?

I pictured you smiling — or maybe it was hope, a stranger with your features my lonely eyes could cloak.

My chest stirred with a flutter, my thoughts unraveled free. Could it be the girl who still holds my heart in secrecy?

Probably not. Coincidences pass each day. It wasn’t you — even if I wished that way.

You’ve gone beyond us now, into a life anew. Still, the image brought me comfort, if only for a moment or two.

Because before love faded, before everything fell apart, we were friends first — heart to heart.

And maybe that’s the hardest part: not the dreams we couldn’t mend, but losing the quiet comfort of calling you my friend.

I opened a door once sealed by dread, Hoping the past would not break its thread. There you stood—ghosts do not fade, Silent as shadows where light once played.

Memories unfurl like the wings of night, Flickering bright, then sinking from sight. The weight of your absence, thick as the dark, Carves quiet scars, a permanent mark.

Where roses once bloomed, now only thorns sigh, Your name whispers low, a forgotten cry. No bloom remains in the soil where you lay, Yet the echo of you clouds every day.

Though you’ve gone, you linger still—A lost melody, forever to fill The hollowed place inside my chest, Where love and grief will always rest.

I carry the weight of this quiet grief, A love undone, yet still, I breathe. And as the seasons shift and weep, I turn a new leaf—into the deep.

I opened a door once sealed by dread, Hoping the past would not break its thread. There you stood—ghosts do not fade, Silent as shadows where light once played.

Memories unfurl like the wings of night, Flickering bright, then sinking from sight. The weight of your absence, thick as the dark, Carves quiet scars, a permanent mark.

Where roses once bloomed, now only thorns sigh, Your name whispers low, a forgotten cry. No bloom remains in the soil where you lay, Yet the echo of you clouds every day.

Though you’ve gone, you linger still— A lost melody, forever to fill The hollowed place inside my chest, Where love and grief will always rest.

I carry the weight of this quiet grief, A love undone, yet still, I breathe. And as the seasons shift and weep, I turn a new leaf—into the deep.

A gambler’s game with loaded dice, A velvet trap dressed up as vice.

I bought your tells, I paid the fee, Mistook your bluff for honesty.

You dealt in silence, cold and clean, Stacked every round behind the scene.

I called your hand, but far too late— The house had fixed the turn of fate.

Your cards fell soft, but cut like truth: No love, just hunger dressed as proof.

You kept me close to fill your stack, A borrowed heart you won’t give back.

I folded slow, with nothing left, A table cleared, a quiet theft.

But somewhere past the smoke and din, I feel a pulse beneath my skin.

Not luck, not chance, not borrowed art— A different game… a guarded heart.

So let the house keep what it’s won, I’ll set the odds to favour one.