Melancholy storie

This is my first collection of poems, just a small journey through laugher, tears, and vanishing figures. The pages hold scenes of connection and then - disappearance. I hope you will be left with something more than just a poem that you have read and then forgotten in a matter of seconds. I hope you will be left with something out of reach, like a ghost in a summer rain. Thank you and enjoy.

(CURRENTLY REVAMPED!) (The Slices of Life, #1) For years, one thing that had always bothered Serena Wilton is the idea of reconciling with a past friend. Whenever he was around, her eyes rested upon him; whether it was at classes or outside of school. She yearned for those wonderful memories again, but the looming fear just wouldn't let her initiate the conversation. Serena clearly remembered how their paths crossed in that one field trip, and the instant click as they interacted. He was nothing but a sunny friend with such contagious confidence... until that accident. Not only did he turn into someone Serena never recognized, but the relationship they built together, soured and crumbled apart. Even so, perhaps her plans can actually work if she's willing to push that stupid anxiety away and speak a word or two. Piece of cake, right? Rating: R+15 *** Updates: Irregular This book contains anime/manga illustrations (all drawn by me, unless stated otherwise) and sensitive topics such as depression and grief. 🎖- YARomance - Semesters of Love 🎖- Official Anime Profile - Light Novel 🎖- Official Teen Fiction Profile - Soul Deep 🥈- Undiscovered Writers Awards: Light Novel 🥈- Spotlight Awards: Teen Fiction

MELANCHOLY | MAY GARNER | AVAILABLE ON AMAZON!    This melancholy drips from my fingertips so slowly you begin to forget I ever existed. All of me - the parts of flesh you never quite learned to love slips quietly down the drain. I am waiting for the day your fingers unscrew the pipes, dig through the mess, scrape your heart against rust, just to find me again, so we can do it all over. Here, in these pages, I find myself. In ink pressed against my flesh, I whisper the sadness, the heartache, the decay meant for all the unspoken.    A Poetry Collection by May Garner. Original poems regarding real life experiences. Cover created on Canva. 2026. Melancholy copyright © May Garner. 2026. All Rights Reserved.

I used to move through things without really stopping. Days came and went, and I let them. It was easier that way. Nothing asked too much of me, and I didn't ask much back. If something slipped away, I told myself it was fine. Most things are. Somewhere along the way, though, I started noticing how quiet moments linger longer than they should. How certain thoughts don't disappear just because you ignore them. How even small things leave behind a shape when they're gone. I don't think I changed all at once. I'm still much the same. But, it was more like slowing down without meaning to. Letting my eyes rest on things for an extra second. Feeling something soften, just a little, before moving on. And I just wonder, when something small disappears from your days, do you feel it leave?

Your mind is a burning room, a drowning storm, and a torturing fairy-tale all at once. Now, descend through its layers and discover what waits in the one place even the flames can't reach. Sad Sundays is my weekly space to share melancholic poetry, words that help me navigate the stillness, the weight, and the quiet storms of recovery. Each Sunday, I post a new piece that I've written, using poetry to process my journey through detox and rehab, to face the difficult parts of healing, and to find meaning in the silence. Every poem is written by hand with help from the Rhymezone platform. This series is as much for me as it is for anyone who finds comfort in knowing they're not alone on their gray days. I will eventually try to tie most of my work together into a larger piece, but first and foremost, this will function as a collection of my writings while I am going through detox. There may be an underlying story, but perhaps not. Find out next week, and join me for a Sad Sunday moment. New Upload every Sunday at 18:00 (6 PM) German time - CET/CEST (UTC+1/UTC+2).

မိဘမဲ့ဂေဟာမှာငယ်စဥ်ကတည်းက အတူတူကြီးပြင်းလာတဲ့ကောင်လေး၂ယောက် တစ်နေ့မှာတော့ တစ်ယောက်နဲတစ်ယောက် ဝေးသွားကြတဲ့အခါမှာ...??

A student at an all-girls high school begins having dreams that don't feel like dreams. They're too specific. Too emotional. A boy's voice calling her name through static. Fingers brushing hers on a crowded bus. The feeling of standing at a train platform knowing she's about to lose something she hasn't had yet. She meets him by accident. He goes to a boys' high school across the river. He recognizes her instantly. She doesn't recognize him at all. *** Han Seo-rin has always dreamed of moments she hasn't lived yet. A voice she doesn't recognize. A feeling of loss that arrives too early. She believes the dreams are harmless, until one day a boy from a neighboring school catches her mid-fall, looks at her face, and drops her without a word before walking away. Lim Joon-ho is quiet, distant, and seems determined to avoid her at all costs. Drawn together by coincidence, and late-90s Seoul's narrow in-between spaces, Seo-rin finds herself caught between a boy who keeps leaving and another who chooses her openly. As her dreams slowly begin to fade, Seo-rin must decide whether love is something meant to be held onto... or something that only exists for a moment. Tomorrow, I Already Knew You is a nostalgic, slow-burn romance about first love, fate, and the cost of knowing too much too soon. #1 IN KOREAN ROMANCE (2-24-26)

𝚑𝚎𝚢𝚢❤️ 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐... ~ the art of romanticizing life, melancholy and to put it simple: deep thoughts ~ ...𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝. Over quite some time I gathered a little collection of different pieces of poetry which are all very personal to me, but which I would also love to share with the world. As an outlet for my thoughts ~ Each part will also feature a picture of the original piece I once wrote into my little book. My friends say my handwriting's pretty, I hope they're right. - no kidding ; ) really, I would appreciate it, if u took a look inside. <3 ongoing ~ more chapters every week xo, S🌹❤️ started 12/04/2023

سەرم فەیلەقی ماڵوێرانانە ، چەندەم حەسودی دێ ، کە ڕوونا و ڕوون خەمی دەخۆن !

A sweet flower planted with love and desire, who would have thought that its sweetness would bring only misery. What a good laugh, too bad the buffoon is an unfunny buffoon. But what does a rose have to do with a buffoon? I offer you a warm welcome to "Noctevia", the land of laughing roses.

WHAT NOW? Some wounds never truly heal. Anna thought she had finally found a fragile balance after years of silence and isolation. A simple life, almost invisible, far from the past she desperately tries to forget. Until the day Lise enters her life. Behind the teenager's guarded gaze lies a distress that Anna recognizes instantly. A familiar ache. A scar she knows all too well. By trying to protect Lise, Anna is slowly forced to confront the very thing she has spent her life running from. But some monsters never really go away. And sometimes, saving someone means losing everything.

Random/disordered pieces. Generally written in a dreary haze of sorts. More lucid than brain fog yet with the oppression of hallucination. A wakeful dream; The sense of it, at the very moment it's written been clear, slips away when revisited later. It's rather useless by then. Passion never lasts. And I'm stuck romanticizing the ephemeral. <> Finding human writing/art/media apart from ai will become as pedantic as abstaining for organic produce from the conventional in a market. It all feeds the same anyhow: SFX Props? VFX CGI? GenAI? At some point, barely anyone would bother differentiating. The consequences overall lies in rumor and superstition with a scientific flavor. Getting ahead of the curb by acting on suggestions/hypotheses as mandates; could such gamble be afforded over and over? Doesn't gambling lead to a net loss on average? By the end of it, organic's the minority, as against automation, so will be humanity. Writing on itself as a form of sincere expression, like this, is a type of clownery. A doomed hobby, mutually outmoded as reading. Doomscrolling would've been a better use of time on my end. "Fast fashion" form of writing has always been the point for the mainstream. Writing's streamlined for a long while now. LLM-AI is that final step to maximize the output. Really, is it bad? Its a self-sufficient haven: Why complain over getting more of what one wants, like the want of reading? Quality in art is in the mercy of subjectivity. Not good enough? Want improvement?: Improvement is the expertise of ai. It's only natural. What can be done? I don't know: spiting against a tsunami will not prevent it from coming and washing everything away that's good. And sometimes it takes even the bad amongst the wreck. I'm here; Luddite. Inept. I can only wait to be swept away or drown by it. Whichever comes first. "Sent from my IPhone"🙏🌽⚽️ Cover: Self-Edited(Muhammad Siyah Qalam miniatures)

If there's no one who wants to save me, why do I still try to save others? If you ever feel bad, sad, just left out. Then Two Face is the right thing for you. It's a short story and poems collection about my own thoughts and struggles. I don't try to express my feelings, I more likely use them to write, they're nothing bad, more likely a friend of mine who hates and tries to kill me. There's nothing left in my life except for a promise I made for someone and the stuff I write. If I can't help myself, why not others? I really hate the humans but not humanity, I know the current developments are scary but if there's no one who can make you smile or feels relatable to something else, then why should u keep going? Why can't I just kill myself and be happy..

Wobble Wobble Kokomi follows Jin Hyun-hee, a middle-aged housewife whose daughter Hae-na left behind an overly powerful computer "for Mom." Hyun-hee barely knows how to use it, but after seeing a trot singer advertise a game on TV, she installs it out of curiosity. By accident, she crosses into the game world and begins a quiet, slow life far removed from work and noise.

The manor had been standing for centuries, indifferent to the lives it fostered and fractured. On the night of the ball beneath the glimmering lights, two paths fatally collide illustrating that tragedy does not always commence with violence. Read the prologue for more information. #1 in manor 02/25/26 #1 in flyaway 02/26/26 (I drafted this but decided to re-upload it)

Bottle Full Of Words is a collection of heartfelt verses, echoing the complexities and beauty of life, in all its fragility and strength. Poetry unveils the depths of human nature, love, loss, hope, and challenges. These poems explore universal themes to impact readers to reflect on their own stories.

Behold, he walks though laid to rest, Entombed beneath my false behest.

"99 Letters to M. My dear beloved M, you only ever brought me pain, but I would never be able to forget you. Here are 99 letters to you, and 1 that was left unsent. Would that letter every change how you view me forever?"

I hide behind these words and smile behind these tears. This is two truths and a lie. Inspired by my lonely thoughts after dark, each piece is delicate and mixed with fear and fascination. This is my truth. (The cover and pictures do not belong to me, it was taken from Pinterest.) © All Rights Reserved.