Hadassah 

I just love to write. Please don’t steal my work♥️

[hadassah-muse]

I’m what men lust after.

Not what they love.

I’m good for a moment.

Not a lifetime.

[pmamtraveller]

Luca Ponsato - Does Anyone See My Suffering

[hadassah-muse]

I hate how I have nothing good to remember,

And your presence is a reminder of that.

Don't be mad because I can't forget what you tattooed into my skin.

Don't yell at me for the borders I learned how to put up,

And don't try to reshape the patterns that I now see.

Stop trying to retell moments I relive.

Stop justifying your actions with your feelings.

When you never cared about mine.

Stop being bitter because I refuse to believe your lies.

How could you give so much abuse and not even apologize?

How could you keep everything together for everyone but us?

You say you love me.

Yet, I can't find one shred of evidence,

In this brain-dead child's memory.

How can you believe these things?

When I am permanently changed?

Why did I have to spend my life fighting and surviving?

For you to not at least acknowledge my scars?

[wovi]

[hadassah-muse]

He would say that he loved me

But he didn’t

He never knew how

But maybe that’s my fault

Maybe I’m just unlovable

[hadassah-muse]

How do you live with the silence?

You have to cope with the voices.

How do you achieve that?

…I don’t know

[hadassah-muse]

We spend all our lives building up walls in order to keep ourselves safe, but those walls are useless when the enemy is within. -unknown

[consecuences]

[hadassah-muse]

Ever feel like you’re wilting away?

[brinkofapersonalreality]

I sit upon a shelf

I am your violin

Carved by your hands

Hollow

You used to play me, years ago

Bringing me out for family and friends

Plucking happy little tunes

Your favorite melodies were fraught with agony

And to make me plead under the weight of your cruelty

You loved to make me cry

I sit upon a shelf

Painfully etched by time

Handled roughly in the dark

Forgotten

You haven’t played me in years

It sickens me that I miss your hands

I would give anything to have value

I sit upon a shelf

Too broken to ever sing again

Bones creaking

Strings snapped

Lacquer scratched and flaking from neglect

You could have let me go to another

Unwanted

I am still yours

I sit upon a shelf

You lack the courage to try again

To make another

Violins are too much trouble

Both knowing full well you have no desire to play

Once feverishly obsessed

Now just a thing you played to pass the hours

Never truly loved

Diminished

I am your violin

I sit upon a shelf

*read top to bottom and/or bottom to top*

[hadassah-muse]

I often feel invisible

But maybe I'm purposely ignored

Perhaps I do it to myself

Keep everyone at a distance

Then grasp for connection

But no one wants connection with a stranger

[unwelcome-ozian]

[hadassah-muse]

Alone

You are alone.

You have no one.

No point in trusting.

Everyone lies.

Only care about yourself.

No matter how kind you are

No matter how much you do

People will always take advantage of you.

No one loves you.

Become stone.

Let nothing get to you.

Distance yourself.

Become a ghost.

Even to the ones that you loved most.

Learn to love yourself.

And selfishly keep it.

Let no one receive it.

Not like before.

Never ever again.

[hadassah-muse]

Bugs

The butterflies in my stomach are now spiders Those excited flutters are now light nauseating crawls This sinking feeling This heart so tired of reliving the breaking I wonder how it could possibly feel anymore Why it chooses to keep beating I ask if it ever thought to just stop It doesn't answer It just keeps bleeding Prayer being my only relief But it's so fragile Only taking a thought to shatter any peace This sinking feeling Knowing just how hard I am to love Those spiders warning me How close you are to leaving They tell me To go ahead and start grieving

[hadassah-muse]

My love you are always going to experience hurt and pain.

Sorrow will be familiar

No matter how many people you push away

[hadassah-muse]

I’m here but no one sees me

I talk but no one hears me

But I can’t complain

Because I know I would be wrong

I’m too sensitive they say

I know if I said anything I would be pushed away

[thepersonalquotes]

Shop

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— Arthur Miller, The Crucible