histórias de Healingthroughwords

No filters. No edits. No apologies. Unedited, Unapologetic - ft. Naylaah is a raw, honest biography about growing up under expectations, finding comfort in creativity, and learning who you are when life doesn't follow the plan. From childhood memories and college chaos to friendships, heartbreaks, and quiet self-discovery-this story is told exactly as it happened. Messy. Real. Unapologetic. Read it if you believe the truth doesn't need polishing.

Someone To Remember is my first poem a reflection of loving deeply even when forever wasn't possible. It's about someone who once cared, once loved, and now lives only as a gentle memory I still hold close.

This is straight from my soul. No filters, no fake deep stuff. Just me-thinking, feeling, surviving. These are my thoughts from my journal, the days I didn't think I'd make it, the nights I cried out to God, the moments I sat in silence trying to figure out who I really am. It's my healing journey. My spiritual path. My breakdowns, my prayers, my confusion, my clarity. If you've ever felt like you were losing your mind just to find yourself- read this. It's not always pretty. But it's real. And maybe, in these words, you'll feel a little less alone too.🤍

These poems sit where the quiet things live, where the hidden parts of you still breathe. They're not urgent. Not demanding. Read them if you want to. Let them go if you don't. They'll remain, unbothered, waiting for the right moment. And when they settle, they'll remind you- the same energy that made these words is the very stardust that built you.

Portrays love not as something we possess, but as a force that imprints itself into our being haunting absence, echoing memory, and reshaped identity. It suggests that love never truly vanishes, but becomes part of the soul's architecture, present in silence, objects, and the spaces between moments.

✦ Description ✦ When a dream recalls My forgotten first love - Rehan 💙 'The Year I Learnt To blush' isn't just a love story - it's the story of every teenager who's ever fallen for someone they were never supposed to. From stolen glances across benches to heartbreaks hidden behind laughter, it's about the chaos of growing up - when one smile could ruin your whole day and a single "seen" on Snapchat could make your heart race. It's the story of Rehan, the boy in the blue jacket who unknowingly became poetry - and her, the girl who learnt that love doesn't always need to be returned to feel real. ✨ It's innocent. It's messy. It's heartbreak in its prettiest form. Because sometimes, the smallest moments make the biggest memories. 💫

A poetic diary like story of a Northern teenage girl navigating strict expectations, soft heartbreaks, quiet healing, and deep self-discovery. She writes poetry as a way of surviving her feelings and each chapter-poem captures a moment: her first love, anxiety, family pressure, faith, healing from assault, dreams of university, sisterhood, and the things she can't say aloud.

Echoes of My Birth" is a heartfelt reflection on the quiet miracle of coming into this world a tender journey from innocence to self-understanding. Each line whispers of purity, time, and growth - reminding us that birthdays are not just celebrations of age, but echoes of the day our souls first met life. This poem is for every heart that looks back at its beginnings and smiles softly, knowing that change too, is a kind of beauty.

In the shadows of memory and the whispers of the unseen, Endless Echoes dives into the raw, unfiltered essence of life-where flesh and bone meet blood and spirit. A journey through grief, power, and the unspoken truths that linger long after the world has moved on. Dare to look closer, linger longer, and feel the pulse of every word.

To every older sibling - boy or girl - who's ever felt invisible... this story is for you. They used to love you the most. You were the pride of the family. But as you grew older... they stopped listening. Now, you're just expected to be perfect. You're not allowed to cry. Not allowed to break. Not allowed to be you. They scream when you act childish. They scream when you act mature. They ignore your pain. Crush your dreams. And yet, not once do they say... "Sorry." This isn't just a story. It's a voice - for every older brother and sister who's been told to "handle it," who's been blamed for being born first, who had to become strong while no one checked if they were okay. If you're an older sibling reading this - you are not alone. This story is yours.

She thought the worst part was the shouting. Until the night he said he was leaving. And then asked if she would come with him. Mira, seventeen, quiet, broken in places no one sees, has spent her life surviving in a house filled with silence that cuts deeper than words, and words that bruise louder than fists. One question - seven words - tear open everything she thought was certain. Now, with nothing but a heartbeat of trust and a suitcase of fear, she boards a plane to South Korea with the only person who ever showed her real love... and real pain. New name. New life. But some ghosts know how to follow you - even across continents. And Mira isn't sure what scares her more: being found... or being forgotten. A story inspired by my own experiences, written with my heart - and brought to life in English with the help of artificial intelligence. To be continued ❤️

A story born from tangled love, unspoken wounds and the kind of pain that refuses to stay quiet. It's messy, honest, and brutally human.

**Title:** *Whispers of the Lotus* **Genre:** Romance | Family Drama | Coming-of-Age | Literary Fiction Aarya has always been a dutiful daughter, bound by the traditions of her small town, Chandrapur. A quiet dreamer with poetry in her soul, she longs to break free from the expectations that confine her. But in her world, dreams are secondary to duty, and her voice is drowned out by the weight of family honor. Enter Devansh-charismatic, ambitious, and a man shaped by the shadows of his lineage. Returning to Chandrapur to fulfill his late father's wishes, he finds himself torn between the legacy he's expected to uphold and the growing desire to carve his own path. When fate intertwines his life with Aarya's, their connection is undeniable, yet impossible. As their love story unfolds, they must navigate the complexities of family loyalty, societal pressures, and the sacrifices that come with choosing one's own destiny. Aarya finds strength in her words, while Devansh learns that love isn't about surrender-it's about standing beside the one who dares to dream. But at what cost? *Whispers of the Lotus* is a poignant tale of love, tradition, and self-discovery-a story of two souls finding their place in a world that seeks to silence them. Will Aarya and Devansh defy the expectations that bind them, or will the echoes of their past dictate their future?

A soul is born weightless, nameless, pure- It takes a body to endure. To touch, to feel, to rise, to fall- It needs flesh to answer the world's call. And just the same... This body of mine-warm, breathing, alive- Needs a home in which it may survive. Not just four walls and silent air, But a place where love dares to care. After marriage, they said, "You are home." But I wandered like a prayer without a dome. A sacred flame with no temple walls, A poem unspoken, a voice that calls. They dressed me in silk, in vermilion light, But never asked if I slept through the night. Their house was built on lineage and pride- But where in those bricks was I meant to hide? I smiled like a guest, walked on eggshell floors, Each corner echoing locked-up doors. I left my motherland, my girlhood room- And entered silence dressed as a bridegroom's bloom. But what is a house without embrace? A grave with curtains, a roof in space. No eyes that searched my soul to see- No hands that built a place for me. They gave me food, gave me rules, But not the freedom to break their tools. A soul needs a body to feel at peace- And a body needs a home to release. Not shelter from rain or shade from heat- But a truth-soaked ground beneath my feet. A window that knows my weeping face, A room where I'm not out of place. I became homeless, not in street or stone- But in the absence of being known. In every house, I was but a guest- A body dressed... but never blessed. And yet, I rise-slow, fierce, and still- With emptiness now shaped by will. If no home claims this sacred form, Then I will build it in every storm. In my silence, in my breath, in my art- A sanctuary grown inside my heart. For I am not lost, though no one waits- I am the keeper of my gates. Like the soul once found this mortal clay- My home shall find me... one day.

A story about holding on when no one asked you to. He didn't stop loving me with a goodbye. He just... stopped showing up. No slammed doors. No final words. Just silence - and stickers. And a cup he still uses every day. The one I sent him when I still believed I mattered. This is not a love story. It's a story about presence. About naming someone who no longer names you back. About staying soft even when they forget the weight of your softness. Written as a mirror - not a diary. This book is for the people who stayed: When no one asked you to. When no one noticed you did. When no one remembered how much it cost you. Each chapter is a quiet ache. Each word is a step toward letting go - without leaving. A slow unraveling of what it means to stay loyal to someone who already let go. If you've ever named someone with your whole heart... and watched them treat it like a sticker - this story is yours. And maybe... theirs too. Even if they never realize it.

"I just don't know what I'm supposed to do now, nor what I'm supposed to be." Olivia Lewis is a young adult, lost in her own life, too scared to open to others, scared of her own thoughts and past life. She will leave for a journey, trying to start over, but will her demon leave her or is her life going to actually improve for once? Come join us to discover more about her.

A tender meditation on the fleeting nature of real love, Maybe Once, Maybe Forever explores the ache of having touched something sacred, only to watch it slip through the grasp of longing. This poem holds space for the quiet kind of love that doesn't demand, doesn't shout, but simply is, woven into stillness, memory, and spirit. With language both intimate and expansive, it asks what it means to believe in a fairytale that was never imagined, only lived. This is a story of holding on, letting go, and learning that some truths never leave; they simply wait to be held differently.

Melancholic Lamentations is a poetry collection by Amara Thorne Nyx, capturing childhood trauma and emotional scars through raw, lyrical letters. A quiet unraveling of pain, memory, and survival.

These poems are not soft lullabies. They are scars, written in ink. The story of a little girl who was silenced, bruised, and unseen in her own home. Her voice was stolen-but now she is speaking. If you've ever swallowed pain just to survive, these words are for you.