Heartstrings & Ink

Heartstrings & Ink Welcome to the darkness, I hope you like it here.đŸ–€

16/12/2025

I am the embodiment of chaos.

Not the loud kind.
The kind that smiles and still ruins things.

I overthink until love suffocates.
I stay silent until it sounds like I don’t care.
I feel too much, then act like I feel nothing.

People don’t leave because I’m cruel.
They leave because I’m complicated
and I don’t know how to ask for patience
without sounding weak.

I want order.
I crave peace.
But my mind is a room with too many open tabs
and none of them are kind.

I ruin good moments by remembering bad ones.
I sabotage closeness by expecting loss.
I push before I’m pushed.

That’s my chaos.

Not fire.
Not storms.
Just a man
who loves deeply
and doesn’t know how to do it
without breaking something in the process.

©2025 Heartstrings & InkđŸ–€

11/10/2025

Heartstrings and Ink

Written by deadupsidedownđŸŒ»

Here,
between heartbeat and heartbreak,
I carve my truth in trembling lines —
a sanctuary of scars and syllables,
where silence learns to speak.

Ink drips like midnight rain,
spilling memories I never meant to keep.
Each word — a pulse I failed to bury,
each stanza — a ghost I taught to breathe.

This is not poetry;
it’s anatomy —
the autopsy of emotion,
where veins spill verses,
and hearts confess in cursive.

I write of love like it’s a haunting,
a melody stitched with ache and wonder,
where pain hums in minor keys,
and beauty breaks just to be remembered.

So if you’ve ever loved like fire
and died like ash,
if your chest still hums
with names you no longer say —
you belong here.

Welcome to Heartstrings and Ink,
where ink is blood,
and every drop dares to feel again.
Where we don’t write to forget —
we write to survive.

©2025 Heartstrings & Ink

29/01/2025

30/01/2025
00:28
Adventures of This Lifetime

By He ThatdoesntexistđŸ–€, deadupsidedownđŸŒ», the milkywayexplorerđŸȘ, and the or**sm donor😈.

Media Player: Coldplay – Adventures of a Lifetime

He ThatdoesntexistđŸ–€:

Young—we don’t realize what it means while we have it,
Young—probably the only mercy life ever handed us.
Old—we fear it, we curse it,
Old—the time we pray doesn’t reach us.
But death has never been ours to summon,
And life? Life just laughs—like we ever had a say in it.
So here we are again, another year, another tally on the list,
Another set of scars, more nights spent drowning in the weight of it.
The heartbreaks, the breakdowns, the su***de attempts,
Yet here I stand, breathing in spite of myself.
And somehow, in all of it, the universe threw me one small mercy—
Something warm enough to light the cold inside me.
deadupsidedownđŸŒ»:

Sunflowered heart—
That’s what I tell myself, that I can stand through the storm,
That I can keep my head up even when the wind is screaming.
We loved. And love loved us back, sometimes gently, sometimes like a blade.
We bled, we burned, we broke, we stayed.
Music held us when no one else did,
Poetry became the only prayer we knew how to say.
We shook hands with death more times than we can count,
Held the blade like a friend, carved silence into our skin,
But to say life was all bad would be a lie.
We had moments, we had laughter, we had ink in our skin, steel through flesh,
We had a baby.
We had a baby.
And if nothing else, her smile is enough to keep us crawling forward,
Even when it feels like we have nothing left.

the milkywayexplorerđŸȘ:

We still stand under the stars like they hold the answers,
Still let the night sky wrap around us like something holy.
Even after all these years, the moon still catches us off guard,
Hanging high, glowing, like she knows something we don’t.
When the air was too heavy, when sleep wouldn’t come,
We stepped outside, whispered secrets into the dark.
Did the stars listen? We don’t know.
But they never turned away.
And maybe that’s the lesson—maybe we are just dying stars,
Breaking apart so something new can shine.
Maybe the losses had to happen.
Maybe there’s still something worth waiting for.
Ase.

the or**sm donor😈:

Man, f**k all that sad s**t—
I want to bury myself between warm thighs tonight.
Feel lips, feel hands, feel nails on my back,
Lose myself in the only kind of hunger that ever satisfied me.
All I want for my birthday is hips rolling slow,
Fingers tracing my skin like scripture.
I want her breath in my ear, my name caught in her throat,
Pleasure dripping from her body like honey.
Because what’s life without the taste of sin?
Without the weight of another body pressed against yours,
Without the kind of fire that leaves you weak?
So here’s to another year of chasing that high,
Of giving and taking, of making her tremble—
Because a gift ain't worth s**t if it don’t make her come undone.

Copyright
All Rights Reserved

Celebrating our 10th year on Facebook. Thank you for your continuing support. To more poetry and literary artsđŸŒ»đŸ€—đŸŽ‰
07/01/2025

Celebrating our 10th year on Facebook. Thank you for your continuing support. To more poetry and literary artsđŸŒ»đŸ€—đŸŽ‰

15/09/2024

Part 5: The Dead Can't Speak.

Written by He Thatdoesntexist

Note to reader: I apologize for the lengthy wait, I almost gave up on the short story, but I will fight to successfully reach the end of it.đŸ–€

Warning ⚠: The following short story contains sensitive content s*xual violence that may trigger sensitive readers; readers under 16 are advised to not read this. This short story is a work fiction, f**k your feelings tho.đŸ–€

The cab dropped me off at Tambotjie Street, about 200m away from my residence, I walked my way home. It was silent as the graveyard at night, with the sound of night bugs missing. I went into my room to get out of my school uniform, which led to me looking at my reflection in the mirror, it was becoming a habit. The f**ked up part of it is that the feelings were not consistent, sometimes I felt s*xy as 'Madonna' in her 20s, sometimes it didnt feel like that. After what felt like a lifetime of me hating the woman looking back at me, I decided to go into the bathroom to refresh and go through the feeling of "failing grade 11."

A few hours had passed before Jacob came through. I had plenty of time to reflect on my decisions in life but I was unhinged. Do you understand what is meant by not giving a f**k? It is an art, but that white n***a that wrote that orange book never spoke of the dangers of this state. I was caught in my thoughts when the phone rang-
"Hello?" I answered
"I'm down the street," the voice on the other end said, I recognized it to be the voice of my beloved Jacob.
"Alright, I'll be out in a minute." I did a quick check in the mirror, did a "360" before striding out the door. I got to his car and he looked star-struck. It felt good to have a male figure look at me the way he did, it was just thirst but I wasn't being picky.
"Hi," I said through the window, struggling with the door of the car. To which he unlocked and opened it for me from inside, (I took that too).
"You look pretty, as always," he said softly.
"Thank you," I blushed.
"Did you eat? We can pass by the drive through and get something to eat."
"No, thanks. Let's go handle business."

We drove to a guest house he had already booked, it was a decent place, not that I was expecting luxury. We were just going to have s*x, I wasn't in it for some Princess treatment. The receptionist welcomed us.
"Welcome to Mafadi guest house, how many rooms would you like to take?" She asked, with a wide smile. The red lipstick she wore was too loud, she had some stuck on her teeth but I was not going to be the one to point it out. Her make-up was not bad, compared to what I've come across at my mom's work place.
"Just one please, I have already booked online," Jacob replied.
"Alright sir, please give me your booking details, then we can proceed with your payment."
I stood there looking around as the two were getting acquainted. Jacob was a flirt, I give him that. Before I knew it, the conversation was concluded and we were being directed to the room. I expected the lady to ask questions like "where's her mom?" Because all things considered, Jacob looked as old as my father, but he was bigger and taller, but she didn't ask any questions, she just minded her own business. We got the room, it was a bed with white sheets, a shower, two drawers, coffee machine on the other end with two cups, and some condiments.

Jacob wanted to chit chat for some reason and I was not interested in all that, so I made the first move. I kissed him on the lips, to which he responded by crushing me in his arms. He started huffing and puffing rushing the process.
"Relax," I said, "we still have time."
I pushed him into the bed, I saw that in one of the videos on that x site, getting on top of him whining as I kissed him. Don't get me wrong, I hadn't known what s*xual pleasure was, that was a moment I chose to try learn. I wanted the moment to be under my control, so I could dictate how it goes, having memorized every step I learned from the s*xual psychologists on 'Google'. I proceeded to unbutton his shirt, but I must've been too slow because he flipped me over like a pancake, switching the winds of power. It startled me, but I loved it at the same time. He started ripping my clothes off my tiny body, I could see the drool dripping from the corner of his lips. He proceeded to take his pants off. I was looking forward to a bit of foreplay but he was not interested in all that extra s**t. My heart sank because the first time I was giving myself to a man willingly, I got less than the bare minimum. While I was I still at that, he plunged himself in me and started stroking away. However, for a person that looked so hungry, he just performed 3 shallow strokes and landed himself on top of me, out of breath - adding up to my frustrations...

To be Continued.

Copyright
© 2024 Ordained Ink's Haven
All Rights Reserved.

15/09/2024

Autumn (Changes)

Written by He ThatdoesntexistđŸ–€

I’ve had this song on repeat for hours,
Like the only thing keeping me from collapse.
Kendrick talks of change, of power,
But who’s gonna fill in all the gaps?
They say that pain is nameless.
I laugh—what do they know of the weight?
They call it a phase, a shift, painless—
But they’ve never stared down fate.

Autumn’s back, ruthless in its arrival,
The trees are peeling their skin again.
They reach for something, pure survival,
Grasping at what they’ll never regain.
The wind, it’s not a friend but a foe—
It cuts deep, scrapes what’s left of me.
Piece by piece, I start to show
That maybe I’m just meant to be empty.

I’ve been here before, this season of death,
Where things don’t wither, they rot inside.
It’s the slow decay in every breath,
The bitter burn of the tears I hide.
Cycles, they say, like life’s a wheel,
But I’m just spinning, falling deeper still.
Chasing ghosts I can’t feel,
Trapped in a circle, against my will.

But I can feel the shift beneath my feet—
The ground’s unraveling with every step.
And though I’m falling, it’s almost sweet,
This endless drop, no safety net.
Maybe you fly by breaking first,
By letting every bone shatter wide.
Maybe life’s a gift wrapped in the worst,
Maybe pain’s where wings learn to glide.

They told me change would heal, not hurt,
Said pain fades like an evening rain.
But they don’t know what it’s like to avert
Your own reflection, hiding your disdain.
They haven’t watched their light burn out,
Or held onto a flicker that’s already dead.
They don’t know what it's like to doubt
If you can survive the storms in your head.

The sky’s a bruise now, swollen with gray,
And I’m bleeding rust, slow from within.
Iron lingers on my tongue, decay
Wraps tight around every breath I take in.
Maybe the trees feel it too, this hollow ache—
Standing bare, stripped by the wind’s command.
Waiting for a redemption that’s fake,
For spring that never takes the land.

There’s no warmth in this change, only frost,
The cold crawling into my veins.
They said it’s a game, with wins, loss,
But I’ve never been good at life’s pains.
Still, I move, one step, then another,
Through streets draped in memory’s veil.
Through echoes of her, like no other,
Haunting me like a forgotten tale.

The song loops again, a familiar hum,
I murmur the words, they’re all I know.
“Yeah, I can feel the changes,”
But deep inside, I wonder though—
If all these changes break me whole,
Will I ever learn to fly again?
Or will the pieces of my soul
Be lost, scattered, blown by the wind?

But, "yea, I can feel the changes..."

Copyright
© 2024 Ordained Ink's Haven
All Rights Reserved

15/09/2024

Love's Canvas

Written by Lowkey Innocentia.

In the desolate expanse of my soul, where shadows danced and darkness reigned, your love burst forth like a radiant sunrise, casting vibrant hues upon the canvas of my existence. The dull, monochromatic world I once knew was transformed, as if by magic, into a kaleidoscope of colors, each one more breathtaking than the last.

The embers of passion, thought to be extinguished by the heartless hands of my past, were tenderly fanned into a roaring flame by your gentle touch. Your love became the beacon that illuminated the dark recesses of my heart, banishing the ghosts of sorrow and despair.

In your loving arms, I found solace from the tempests that had ravaged my spirit, comfort from the ache of loneliness, and genuine love that I feared was lost forever. You are the gentle rain that soothes my parched earth, the warm breeze that rustles my leaves, and the sunshine that brightens every day.

With you, my world is reborn, revitalized, and rejuvenated. The stars twinkle brighter in the night sky, the moon glows with a softer light, and the beauty of life is once again revealed to me. You are the melody that fills my heart with song, the rhythm that makes me whole, and the harmony that brings balance to my soul.

Copyright
© 2024 Ordained Ink's Haven
All Rights Reserved

13/09/2024

Show Me

Written by deadupsidedownđŸŒ»

Show me your hands,
Not just to hold,
But to feel the weight of what you carry,
The edges of your truth,
And all the softness you keep hidden
From the world that never learned to love you right.

Let me see you beneath the surface,
Where words no longer matter,
Where silence becomes the loudest confession,
And your breath tells me everything
You’ve never been brave enough to say.

There’s a beauty in how you unravel—
Slow, like moonlight creeping over shadows,
Like trust that doesn’t rush,
But lingers between the seconds,
Waiting for permission to fall.

I don’t need your stories or your armor,
Just the weight of your skin against mine,
The pulse that says you’re still here,
Still choosing this space,
Even when the world is too loud to hear us.

So show me,
Not with grand gestures or promises,
But with the way your eyes soften
When you think no one’s watching.
In the way you reach for me
Without reaching for anything at all.

Show me,
In the quiet,
Where the truth slips out unnoticed,
And the smallest touch
Becomes the loudest answer.

Copyright
© 2024 Ordained Ink's Haven
All Rights Reserved

13/09/2024

Loving you was a losing game.

Written by Lowkey Innocentia.

Loving you was a game I never knew I played,
A gamble with my heart, a risk I couldn't sway.
I bet on the promise of forever, on the whispered vows,
On the tender touch that set my soul aglow.

But forever came and went, like autumn's fleeting breeze,
Leaving me with shattered dreams, and a heart that freezes.
Every moment we shared, every kiss, every gentle caress,
Was just a clever disguise for the pain that awaited me, a mess.

Oh, loving you was a losing game, a battle I couldn't win,
A war waged on my heart, with no refuge to hide within.
I fought with every breath, with every beat of my heart,
But your love was a mirage, a desert that tore me apart.

Yet, I'll rise from the ashes, scarred but stronger still,
Wiser for the heartache, and the love that didn't fulfill.
I'll learn to love again, to trust and to believe,
But for now, I'll mourn the loss of what could never be.

For loving you was a game I couldn't win,
A gamble with my heart, a risk that didn't pay within.
But I'll hold on to the memories, to the love we once shared,
And cherish the moments, though they left me scarred.

Copyright
©2024 Ordained Ink's Haven
All Rights Reserved

12/09/2024

Where We Drift

Written by deadupsidedownđŸŒ»

We’re still here,
In the same room where sunlight once spilled
Across our tangled limbs,
Where morning tasted like whispered dreams,
And silence felt like home.

Now, the air feels different—
Heavy, as if holding its breath.
I search for you in the quiet hum,
But the space between us stretches
Like a thread about to snap.

Your eyes,
They used to hold my reflection,
Now they skim across me,
Barely touching, like raindrops
That miss the earth.
I wonder if you notice
How the laughter has dulled,
How words fall between us,
Shallow as a fading echo.

We speak, but our voices don’t meet.
Sentences drift like loose feathers,
Falling without landing,
Brushed aside by the winds of what’s unsaid.
We move together,
But it feels more like a dance around silence—
Each step careful, measured,
Afraid to disturb the fragile ground beneath us.

I used to know your every breath,
Could feel the pulse of your thoughts,
Even when the room was still.
But now it’s like trying to remember
The sound of a melody
That slips further with each passing note.

Your hand rests close to mine,
But there’s no warmth,
No spark left to bridge the cold.
The touch that once lit fires
Now feels like ash,
Soft, but lifeless.
I wonder if you notice,
If you feel it too.

Are we just playing pretend?
Holding onto the memory of who we were,
Tracing the outlines of something
That no longer exists?
Or is this what happens when love lingers,
But loses its flame?

I wish I could speak,
Break this silence that’s swallowing us whole,
But my words are heavy,
Like stones I can’t lift,
And I wonder,
If they would even reach you.

Still, I stand here, waiting,
Hoping you’ll turn,
Hoping we can find the thread again—
The one we wove when we still believed
In forever.

But maybe,
Just maybe,
We’re already too far from where we began,
Drifting in the same space,
But worlds apart.

Copyright
© 2024 Ordained Ink's Haven
All Rights Reserved.

12/09/2024

qua 02. (pedestrian pedestal)

By Sia Morweng

begin with me, please begin,
at the end of the tunnel already
yet i suck my fingers when i'm unaware
and there's temptation to twirl
my hair when i discover
a fruit sweeter than mango,
life and the falling leaves.
my palm has been itching, too much so,
it's stayed clenched even in my sleep
and this from the myth told by my nana
would be the sign of abundant luck
but i haven't had a kiss move my heart
or surround my soul, the famous
incitement of wanting to devour or
be devoured, perhaps, begin with me.

it has been too long since i heard my earnest voice, the very one I'm unable to recognize yet my mother recognizes when I'm only entering the door. i wished for simplicity and this was my mistake, the naivety of thinking simple came alone without any entanglements. but, when i'm still wishing for simplicity after it all, am i still naive?

Copyright
©2024 Ordained Ink's Haven
Allrights Reserved.

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