@poetry.tohelpyouheal: 📖: the morning after by hayley grace #poetry #poetrytiktok #themorningafter #hayleygracepoetry #fyp

Zephyr :

Some of the poetry I’ve been writing

Joe Colunga :

focused.editor :

It hurts so bad not being loved by the people who were supposed to carry you through life when you couldn't. I fought tooth and nail just to survive and even now just surviving feels like suffering sometimes.

𝕾𝖆𝖒 🦇 :

Wait this one is too specific

caraduhP :

YOU HAVE TO BE THE THING THAT SAVES YOU🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

lejlica33 :

toothfairy8517 :

TikTok just trying to make me cry every video tonight

icy.g37 :

Silent repost but felt

Aaliyah 🖤 :

He is coming to save me but, he’s also taught me how to save myself and that’s something no one else has ever taken the time to do. Everyone just wants you to change and fix it he gave me time.

❤Kayla_Boo!❤ :

as someone who has gone through this and now pregnant, I will always make sure my son will NEVER have to experience this😭

𝕧𝕚𝕩 🦇🐆🖤 :

this actually hurt me..

Sl66pD6mon :

Yolo :

I don’t know if I can crawl out of this darkness this time.. but I’ll keep moving

Delilah :

Emiee Murray | Moto Fam :

Tori Piwnicki :

Ouch. That gave me a knot in my throat.

Madison Parker :

Kelsey Alene Coburn :

Sam_F32 :

oof

Jellybeans :

My parents never screamed. I would hear my father say, “I'm sorry,” and my mother would simply go silent. My parents never put their hands on each other. But my mother would put her hands on me for failing a test, for not doing things exactly as I was told. I was always told that the failure would be beaten out of me because failure was never an option. And on the days I was touched at four, five, and six years old, my parents still didn't yell. I was simply held and told, “I'm sorry. I didn't protect you. I should have done better. I should have protected you.” But those words eventually taught me something, too. They taught me to forgive. To understand. To believe that when someone says, “It will never happen again,” they mean it. To believe that an apology means change, that remorse means safety, and that the people who hurt you can become the people who protect you. But sometimes, the words it will never happen again become a promise you spend years waiting to believe. My parents never screamed. There were no shouting matches to tell the world something was wrong. No loud arguments to expose the pain hidden behind closed doors. But silence doesn't mean peace. An apology doesn't erase what happened. And a quiet house doesn't mean a child feels safe. Because while the adults around me spoke softly, apologized, or said nothing at all, there was a little girl inside that house who had a thousand things to scream. And nobody heard her. My parents never screamed. But internally, I was screaming.