Free-verse Stories

A heart that has loved, lost, broken, healed - and still hopes. This is a collection of words I once hid inside my chest. Poems about love, ache, longing, healing, and everything in-between. If you feel too deeply, welcome home. 💌

🖤 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 by itsjustAmrit Think of it like pages torn from different days but from the same life. ❝ 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ❞ Broken Pages is a collection carved from silence- 𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥. These aren't love poems. They're post-mortems. Grief sleeps between the lines. Heartbreak drips from metaphors. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴 - "You're not alone in the dark." If you've ever smiled while shattering... If your silence ever screamed... 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. In the ash. In the aftermath. In the poetry only pain can write.

I fell for the warmth that knew it wouldn't last.

The city of thorns glowed with electric sorrow.

Thoughts. Words. Feelings. All of these are things we experience on a daily basis. Of course, it varies from person to person; how many thoughts we have, how deeply we feel, how we use our words. This is but my experience, shared with the world. My thoughts voiced for my own peace of mind. My words spoken for all to hear. My feelings bared, heart on my sleeve. The darkness within us all sometimes intimidates us, and we can all but hide inside closets where our masks and skeletons dance.

1 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 ──────── ₊⋆☽◯☾⋆₊ ──────── Blood Red Roses is a 𝒑𝒐𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄 memoir of becoming, an 𝒖𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 of myself, one fragile 𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍 at a time. This collection traces my journey through the 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆 and 𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒆𝒅 years of teenagehood. Through each poem, you would get a glimpse of 𝒓𝒂𝒘 and 𝒖𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 moments of love, heartbreak, loss, confusion and even 𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒔 of 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚. The title is more than just a name : it is a 𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒓 of growth and acceptance . Each year, each experience was a petal 𝒖𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 . Some were 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 like teenage innocence while others were 𝒋𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅, 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 with blood, 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 by heartbreak and 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕 in reaching. Some were glowing 𝒓𝒆𝒅 under the eternal 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 of euphoria while others were 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 due to the 𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 of insecurity and 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒔 of pent up emotions . But together these roses compose the bouquet of my becoming. Now I offer this bouquet to you, dear reader, and hope you find petals of your own and embrace the garden you are meant to be. ──────── ₊⋆☽◯☾⋆₊ ──────── ⟪ a c h i e v e m e n t s ⟫ 🥇 1st Place under "Best Blurb Award" in "The Hollowed Verse Awards" ⟪ h i g h e s t r a n k i n g s ⟫ #1 in poesia (out of 15k stories) #1 in spokenword (out of 4.57k stories) #1 in personal thoughts (out of 2.5k stories)

A book of poems from an amature author

I wandered among the resting and found beauty where sorrow grows.

When the mist subsided, your eyes found me again.

I will stand beside you as the evidence that you were never imagined, you were always inevitable.

I feel everything more than I admit.

I'd weather every storm just to guard you.

People stayed far from you, the rare one yet my hand brushed you, and I witnessed the fragile bliss they never saw.

A collection of poetry that may hurt your soul or heal it.

I have folded my wings so you may fly.

Maybe growth is the art of losing gently.

Sunset comes and goes but I remain next to you.

Poetry comes from within, most of my poetry is inspired by what I went throught at the time or how I felt at the moment I wrote it. Everyone can always relate to poetry in some way, whether its love, hurt or joyful poetry.

3 a.m. echoes and golden hour realizations. In the quiet space between the world's noise and the soul's frequency, the Meow Muse wanders. From the chaos of a hollow week to the comfort of being known, these poems are for the learners, the dreamers, and the ones still finding their color.

For every person out there that was quiet, not because they chose to be so, but because they were choking in the smoke. Because their opinions were apparently not worth anything. Because they didn't know just how to say what they felt. For every person that is consumed by their own thoughts, the derision from the outside world only making it worse. For every soul that was drowning in remorse and anguish on restless nights. For every soul that says I love you in the dark and in the mirror because no one else does. For the floors we would pace while anxiety sunk its teeth into us. For the mirrors that we would break while shame echoed its laugh in our caged walls. For the hearts that would ache while loneliness was the only company. For every moment of pain and solitude in this world that feels too cruel for such young and frail minds.