Writers world

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Updated: May 10, 2026 at 2:33 PM

Writers world

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Writers world

May 14, 2026, 06:54 PM

"Time Heals"

*What a lie,*
a thief’s promise, soft as rot
whispering *wait, just wait,*
while the wound forgets
how to close.

There is no end,
only the slow gnaw of absence,
a clock with no hands,
a sky with no dawn.

Every breath is her name,
every silence her echo.
I am a ghost
haunted by the living.

Time does not heal
it merely teaches the bones
how to ache
without breaking.

(But oh, how they bend.)

https://t.me/chaosvill

6,410

Writers world

May 14, 2026, 06:54 PM

📷 Photo

Everyone's rushing somewhere. I’m just trying to remember where I lost myself.

6,210

Writers world

May 14, 2026, 06:54 PM

"The Worst Kind of Shadows"

The worst kind of feelings
are the ones you can’t carve into stone,
can’t drown in the river,
or set aflame in the yard.

They linger—
like the ghost of a touch
on skin that no longer remembers warmth,
like a song half-remembered,
hummed wrong in the dark.

You wear them like a coat
stitched from unanswered questions,
each thread a *why* that knots itself tighter
with every breath.

And the cruelest part?
They don’t even rage.
They don’t scream, or break things,
or leave bruises you can point to and say:
*Here. This is where it hurts.*

No—
they just sit inside your ribs,
quiet as a stopped clock,
heavy as a closed door,
whispering:
*You can’t fix what was never yours to hold.*

https://t.me/chaosvil

7,300

Writers world

May 14, 2026, 06:54 PM

Some of us are carved from stone, not flesh. Our hearts are not beating things but hollow caverns where love should reside—echoing, empty. We are the ones who stand at the edges of affection, watching others melt into each other like wax under a flame, while we remain cold, untouched.

We try. Oh, how we try. We mimic the motions—hands held, lips pressed, whispered words that taste like rust on our tongues. We stitch ourselves into the shapes of lovers, but the threads unravel, always. There is something missing, something fundamental, like a god forgot to mold that part of us before setting us loose into the world.

Perhaps we were never meant for love. Perhaps love is a language we were never taught, a song our throats cannot shape. We press our palms to chests, waiting for a spark that never comes. We tell ourselves: *Maybe this time. Maybe this one will be different.* But the truth is, some wounds are not wounds at all—they are absences. Some of us were born without the thing that makes love stick.

And so we wander, half-people, ghosts in the lives of those who try to love us. We break them without meaning to. We leave fingerprints on their skin, not bruises, but the faintest marks of someone who was never really there.

We do not love.
We only pretend.
And the tragedy is—
we are almost convincing.

And by some of us I meant me and you ofc.

7,530

Writers world

May 14, 2026, 06:54 PM

I thought about you last night
but instead of crying or feeling upset
there was this drizzle of peace
that began to hit the surface of my soul
I made it
without you . . .
I’m much happier
here without you . . .
https://t.me/chaosvil

6,470

Writers world

May 14, 2026, 06:54 PM

Pain changes people, it makes them trust less, overthink more, & shut people out.

5,940

Writers world

May 14, 2026, 06:54 PM

Getting out of your comfort zone feels so great that u start to question ur whole life choices

7,540

Writers world

May 14, 2026, 06:54 PM

Starve, my dear,
On this love
You claimed enough,
And i will hold on
Leaving
Out what you need
To keep you coming back.

-it's not greed-

6,160

Writers world

May 14, 2026, 06:54 PM

Of the best and the first,
These words won't be.
Of the sweet and the plump,
These words won't be.
A perfume, an incense,
These words won't be.
Capabel to appease,
This words won't be.
But, If not for you,
These words wouldn't be.

-Cain's offering-

6,540

Writers world

May 14, 2026, 06:54 PM

I watched her galactic eyes,
Drowning in a pool of watery tears,
And with every passing moment,
Her eyes kept screaming fear.

As the flood continued to rise,
Breathless,
Immobilised,
She let herself drown so deep,
Ocean deep in her own mistakes.

As she sunk,
She has never remembered to breathe,
And as she sunk,
She has forgotten how to keep herself alive.

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