Tag: Love

Categories
Love, Deep Emotions, Thoughts, Life, Questions

When The Butterflies Are Gone

When the butterflies are gone,
and love no longer trembles in your ribs
like a secret trying to be born,
do not panic.

Love was never meant
to live only in the flutter.

The butterflies were the introduction
soft wings brushing against uncertainty,
color against fear,
hope learning how to pronounce a new name.

But wings tire.

And what replaces them
is quieter.
Heavier.
Real.

When the butterflies are gone,
what remains is choice.
Choice to stay when moods are not musical.
Choice to speak when silence would be easier.
Choice to build when feelings refuse to bloom on command.

The world taught you
that love must always feel like fireworks
but fireworks die in smoke.

Real love
becomes sunrise instead.
It rises whether you clap or not.
It shows up on ordinary mornings
with sleepy eyes and steady hands.

When the butterflies are gone,
you begin to see clearly.
Not the fantasy
but the flaws.
Not the poetry
but the patterns.

And here is the sacred question:
When the flutter fades,
is there still respect?
Is there still peace?
Is there still kindness in the room?

Because butterflies are feelings.
But foundation is character.

If the butterflies are gone
and bitterness takes their place,
listen.

If the butterflies are gone
and calm remains
stay curious.

There is a deeper love
that does not shake you,
but steadies you.
It does not rush your pulse,
but regulates your soul.

And sometimes,
when the butterflies are gone,
what is left
is not emptiness

but maturity.

Love growing up.

Quotefied (Quotefiedhq)
http://www.ifedolapoogunniyi.com

Categories
Quotefied, Mother's Love, Love, Valentines Day Poem

The Hidden Weight

(For Mothers with ❤️)

A load I carried for nine long months,
Heavy beneath my ribs, heavy beneath my pulse.
A secret swelling inside my bones,
Alive, restless, yet unknown.

It pressed against my fragile sleep,
Turned in the dark where silence weeps.
I felt its hunger, felt its cry,
Felt it stretch where fears would lie.

It fed on my blood, drank from my veins,
Wrote its story through my pains.
My back bent low, my ankles swelled,
My breath grew thin where hope once dwelled.

People smiled and touched my skin,
Asking what treasure grew within.
Was it joy wrapped soft and small
Or a storm waiting to fall.

I loved what I had never seen.
I feared what I had never seen.
I sang to a shadow.
I prayed to a mystery.

Nine months of carrying a question.
Nine months of loving a secret.
Nine months of surrendering control
To something that would not reveal its face.

I bore the weight with trembling grace,
Kissed the curve of my own unknown fate.
So close to my heartbeat it lived,
Yet not once was I given the mercy
To know what I held inside.

A load I carried.
A life I nurtured.
A truth I was denied.

And still I carried it.

© Quotefied

Categories
Love, Deep Emotions, Thoughts, Life, Questions

The Pages Were Patient

The pages were patient…
white as untouched dawn,
holding their breath
for a voice brave enough to arrive.

Then the ink came
not gently,
but like rain that had waited too long,
spilling its secrets
from the marrow of memory.

Dust stirred.
Silence cracked open.
Old whispers rose from forgotten corners
and stitched themselves into sentences.

Each word burned softly at first
then brighter.
A quiet rebellion of letters
refusing to be erased.

Names once fading
found their pulse again.
Moments once buried
stood upright and breathing.

Time tried to close the book
but the story would not bow.
It stretched beyond margins,
climbed past endings,
and wrote itself into forever.

The pages were patient…
but truth was restless.

And now that it has spoken,
even if years gather like shadows,
even if hands tremble and seasons shift

This story will remain.
Not as ink.
But as imprint.

Not as sound.
But as echo.

Unfading.
Unforgotten.
Undone by nothing.

Categories
Uncategorized

I Take A Breath

I Take a Breath

I take a breath
not because life is gentle,
but because it isn’t.

Because my chest is full
of unsaid things,
and my mind keeps running
like it owes time an explanation.

The breath arrives quietly.
No announcement.
No miracle.
Just air reminding my body
it doesn’t have to stay on guard
every second.

For a moment,
the noise steps back.
Not gone
just far enough
for me to hear myself again.

I exhale
and something loosens.
Not the problem.
Not the weight.
Just the grip
of pretending I’m fine.

Maybe that’s what breathing really is
not healing,
not strength,
but honesty in motion.

A soft way of saying:
I’m still here.
I’m still trying.
I can pause
before I break.

And sometimes,
that pause
is enough
to keep going.

© @quotefiedhq

(aka Quotefied on Facebook)

Categories
Love, Deep Emotions, Thoughts, Life, Questions

In My Lowest, You Saw Me and Stayed


For the woman who stayed when I was nothing but broken.

I didn’t have to say a word
You saw the storm in my eyes before I ever spoke.
When my world was falling apart piece by painful piece,
You didn’t run.
You pulled up a chair,
And sat with me in the rubble.

I was tired…
Not just of life—but of myself.
The mirror showed a man I didn’t recognize,
Worn out, washed up,
Too numb to cry, too ashamed to scream.
But you didn’t flinch.
You just… stayed.

When there was no money,
No promises, no plans,
Just the weight of depression and the echo of failure
You stayed.

You watched me break
Not once, but over and over again
And still called me whole.
You held my face in your hands when I couldn’t lift it,
And whispered, “I see you. I’m not going anywhere.”

You didn’t love me for what I gave.
I had nothing left to offer.
You loved me for who I was
Even when I couldn’t love myself.

I remember the nights
When darkness wrapped itself around me like a second skin,
And all I wanted was to disappear
But your voice, your arms,
Your quiet strength…
It tethered me back to life.

They say real love is proven in fire.
Well, we walked through hell.
And you didn’t just survive with me
You carried me.

Now, as I stand
Not perfect, but healing,
Not rich, but hopeful
I need the world to know:

You were my safe place.
My anchor.
My answered prayer.
My miracle in skin and soul.

And if there’s a book in Heaven
Where sacrifices are written in gold
Your name is engraved on the brightest page.

This isn’t just a thank-you.
It’s a vow.
That as long as I live
You will never stand alone.
Because in my lowest…
You saw me.
And you stayed.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi

Categories
Father's Day Fathers, Love, Appreciation, Strength, Gratitude

Faith of Our Fathers: A Father’s Day Tribute

I remember the way you’d come home
dust on your shoes, silence in your eyes,
but somehow, love in your tired smile.
You never said much…
but your life spoke louder than words ever could.

You were the man who gave up new shirts
so we could wear uniforms with pride.
The man who fixed broken doors
and sometimes broke inside too
but we never saw that part, did we?

You taught us faith,
not just the kind we read in the Bible,
but the kind you lived
when the bills piled up
and you still made sure we never lacked.
When the world mocked your simplicity,
but you stayed true, stayed kind, stayed strong.

Your hands—rough, steady, sure
held everything together.
Held us when we were small.
Held prayers in the night
when no one else heard your quiet “Amen.”

You taught us that real men cry
not always with tears,
but in the way they forgive,
in the way they stay,
in the way they love without needing applause.

And now, as we stand taller,
it’s because we stood on your shoulders.
As we walk straighter,
it’s because you bent so we could rise.

Dad, Papa, Baba, Padre, Père, Father
whatever we called you,
you were always more than the name.
You were our quiet hero.
Our earthly echo of a heavenly Father.

Today, we don’t just say “Happy Father’s Day.”
We say thank you.
We say we see you.
We say—because of you,
we know what love looks like in real life.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi

Categories
Love, Deep Emotions, Thoughts, Life, Questions

The Beauty of Waiting

She stares at the wall, counting the grooves,
Fingers drumming softly against her thigh.
The kettle whistles, then quiets again—
Another minute, another breath held high.

Waiting is the ache between footsteps,
The hush before a message that never comes.
It’s scrolling through photos just to feel,
Fighting the urge to numb what numbs.

She checks the time, again, again,
Re-reading old words like a sacred script.
The silence wraps her, not as peace,
But as a blanket woven with what-ifs.

The room holds stories she dares not speak,
Memories tucked behind half-closed doors.
She waits not just for something to happen,
But for meaning to form from before.

Waiting teaches in whispers, not roars
That not all stillness is void or vain.
That growth often hides in uneventful days,
Where longing and learning intertwine with pain.

She is not idle, though unmoving she seems.
She is gathering strength in her very still state.
Like a seed tucked deep in the stubborn earth,
Becoming, slowly, what only time can create.

There’s beauty in not knowing just yet,
In sitting through silence without a map.
Because even in pause, life is still speaking—
And her heart learns to listen… and clap.

Ifedolapo Ogunniyi

Categories
Love, Deep Emotions, Thoughts, Life, Questions Love, Self Awareness, Breaking Free, Freedom

Every Tear, Every Scar, I Showed Up

I showed up still…

Every tear that kissed my cheek in the night,
A silent scream drowned out of sight,
Still, I rose with trembling hands,
Facing storms I didn’t understand.

Every scar etched deep in skin and soul,
Whispers of battles that took their toll
Yet here I stand, not broken but bold,
Bearing stories that never got told.

I showed up—when silence felt like a weight,
When hope was late, and love came too late.
When mirrors cracked and lies looked true,
I showed up, even when I barely knew who.

Through betrayal’s bite and sorrow’s sting,
I danced in ashes and learned to sing.
Faith became my final thread,
When all else failed, and dreams lay dead.

Every bruise, every wound unspoken,
I wore them like armor, never broken.
For in my pain, I found my crown
I never stayed down; I never stayed down.

I showed up—not flawless, not whole,
But with fire smoldering in my soul.
Every tear, every scar, a sacred sign
That healing, too, can be divine.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi

Categories
Love, Deep Emotions, Thoughts, Life, Questions

One Mind and Too Many Thoughts

There’s just one me, yet I feel split,
A crowded room where I sit.
Voices whisper, loud, then low,
Pulling me places I don’t want to go.

I smile, I nod, I play my part,
But no one sees my heavy heart.
Memories claw, regrets hold tight,
Keeping me restless through the night.

I overthink, I drown, I drift,
Between what was and what still sticks.
I tell myself, “Just let it be,”
But my own mind won’t set me free.

I need a hand, a place to breathe,
Someone to say, “Just rest, just be.”
But until then, I fight alone,
One mind, too many thoughts – my own.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
2025

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