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When Your Hands Are Empty #poemofhope #faithpoetry #spokenwordpoetry

There will be a season when you have done all you know to do and still, nothing. No answer at the door. No sudden change. No sign in the sky telling you that tomorrow will be kinder. Just you, your unanswered prayer, and the strange silence that makes you question whether God is still listening. He is. Do not mistake silence for absence. Some of God's deepest work happens without making a sound. Roots grow in darkness. Healing happens beneath skin. Morning begins long before the window knows there is light. And somewhere beyond what you can see, your life is being moved by hands you cannot follow. So do not abandon your faith because you cannot trace God's footsteps. You were never promised a clear view. You were given enough light for the next step. Take it. Even if your knees shake. Even if your heart has questions your mouth is afraid to ask. Take it. Faith is not a life without uncertainty. It is waking up with uncertainty beside you and refusing to let it choose your direc...
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The Kind of Love That Stays #lovepoetry #poetrydaily #poetryaddict

I did not fall for you
like people fall in movies.

There was no thunder,
no sudden music,
no heaven opening its hands.

You simply stayed
a little longer than you should have.

And somehow,
that was enough.

You learned the quiet parts of me,
the places I keep locked,
the old wounds I cover
with ordinary conversation.

You never asked me
to explain the darkness.

You sat beside it.

That frightened me.

Because I had spent so long
believing love meant being saved,
I did not know what to do
with someone
who could look at my brokenness
and call it beautiful.

Sometimes I wonder
if we found each other too late.

You carrying your ghosts,
me carrying mine,
two wounded souls
pretending we were not
recognizing each other.

Our love was never soft.

It had teeth.

It lived in midnight conversations,
in jealous silences,
in the ache of almost losing one another.

You could hurt me
without raising your voice.

I could break your heart
with nothing more
than the distance in my eyes.

And still,

when the night became unbearable,
you were the person
I wanted beside me.

Maybe that is the cruelest thing
about loving someone deeply,

they become both
the wound
and the place you go
to heal.

If I could love you differently,
perhaps I would.

Perhaps I would choose something lighter,
something that does not tremble
when the phone stops ringing,
something that does not fear
the sound of goodbye.

But I know myself.

And I know you.

We were never made
for ordinary love.

We were made from
unfinished apologies,
midnight confessions,
and the strange tenderness
of two people
who know exactly
where the other one hurts.

So if you leave,
I will not curse you.

I will simply carry you
the way the moon carries darkness,

quietly,
without asking it to disappear.

And if you ever return,

you will find me
where you left me:

a little older,
a little harder,
but still keeping
one small room inside my heart
where your name
has never learned
how to die.

© 2026 Gloria Penelope

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