Unveiling Secrets: A Journey of Heartbreak


Unveiling Secrets: A Journey of Heartbreak

I once thought I was your confidante,
That you told me everything,
But now I see that I was wrong,
That I was just another fool.

You tell others things you’ve never told me,
Secrets that you keep close,
And I am left in the dark,
To wonder what I did wrong.

Am I not important to you?
Am I not worthy of your trust?
Or is there someone else you’ve chosen,
To take my place in your heart?

I don’t know the answers to these questions,
But I do know that I’m hurt,
And that I’m no longer sure,
If I want to be a part of your life.

The silence between us grows louder each day,
A wall built of secrets and whispers untold,
I watch from the sidelines as you drift away,
Leaving memories turning fragile and cold.

So I will step back from the shadows you cast,
And guard the small pieces of heart that remain,
No longer a prisoner to what’s in the past,
Learning to walk through the quiet and pain.

More Works by Nancy Ann Creed

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The Quiet Night

The Quiet Night

A struggle to belong, to find my place,
Stumbling through life, mistakes I embrace.
Blunders and missteps, a shadow they cast,
Day after day, the die seems to be cast.

Disliked, an outsider, I feel it so deep,
Friendly smiles, a facade I can’t keep.
Loneliness lingers, a constant despair,
Do they truly care, is anyone there?

Grappling with doubt, uncertainty’s sting,
What am I doing wrong, what sorrow I bring?
Isolation suffocates, a heavy embrace,
Is solitude’s path the one I must chase?

Different, I may be, a truth hard to face,
Do I belong here, in this crowded space?
Perhaps it’s time to accept what’s in sight,
A solitary journey, into the quiet night.

More Writings by Nancy Ann Carber

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Sponges and the Soul

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Sponges and the Soul

Some people are like sponges.
They soak up whatever is around them,
And then pour it out on others.

When they are with good people,
They absorb your goodness,
And then pour it out on others.

When they are around toxic people,
They become like them,
And then pour it out on others.

Don’t be a sponge.
Know who you are.
Beware of sponges and always be the good person
So the sponges can soak up your goodness.

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Acceptance is the Key

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The weight of a thousand eyes presses down,
A silent, ceaseless judgment that I drown
Within. I worry too much, an endless loop
Of anxious thoughts, a psychological stoop

About how others see me—the fleeting glance,
The subtle shift, the judgment they advance.
Each interaction is a stage, a test,
Where my own self-worth is put to the best
Or worst assessment by an external gauge.
I turn each minor slip into a mental cage.

I worry too much, an unrelenting fear,
About whether they like me, holding me dear,
Or casting me aside with cold indifference.
The need for approval is a fierce presence,
A hunger I can never seem to appease,
Searching for acceptance on every breeze.

I worry too much, the constant, weary drain,
About what others think, the imagined stain
They see upon my character or my name.
This scrutiny I project is a cruel game,
Where I am both the player and the prize,
Obsessed with the mirrors in other people’s eyes.

Why does it matter so much to me, this need
To fit the mold, to plant the perfect seed
Of a flawless persona in their minds?
Why do I seek the validation that binds
Me to their opinion, tethering my peace
To whether or not their judgments cease?

The mask I wear is finely wrought and bright.
I say, with forced conviction and feigned might,
It doesn’t bother me. My voice is steady, low.
I put, with practiced ease, a flawless show,
On a brave face, a fortress built of stone,
Pretending I stand confidently alone.

But the truth is, the internal tremor starts,
It does bother me, deep within the hidden parts.
The words I speak are often just a lie,
A desperate attempt to watch the worry die.
The fear of rejection is a constant, nagging ache,
A vulnerability I cannot fully forsake.

I want to move on from these consuming thoughts,
To sever the chains of ‘what-if’ and ‘what-nots’.
I want to rid myself of the debilitating idea,
That everyone has to like me, crystal clear,
A fantasy that keeps me small and tight.
I long to stand securely in my own light.

No matter what I say or do, the true release
Lies not in their affection, but in my own peace.
Acceptance is the key, the final, crucial stand.
Acceptance of who I am, etched by my own hand,
And the profound, unshakable belief that I am worthy,
Not because they say it, but because I know the worth of me.
I will claim my own value and finally be free.

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