Poem Stories

A world of poems captured in a single book, written by a girl who played every role: the academic achiever, the loyal friend, the eldest daughter, and more. She was always the one chosen for the top rank, yet she was never the one chosen by love. This collection is a bridge across the years, composed of verses that trace a haunting evolution where the innocent wonders of childhood slowly sharpen into the cold realizations of the real world. Yours truly, RosePoet (Note: These entries are not arranged in chronological order; however, I have included dates to serve as a guide to navigate the journey through time.) Pinterest: Littlemisstaromilktea

──────── ˚ ₊ ‧ ⋆ ──────── There has always been an 𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐬 residing in me. Something hollow and deep and empty. Something that screams to be heard. Something that aches for meaning in this haunting world. Through this collection I try to pick out the pieces of my heart and bleed out words that have haunted me. And maybe try to find peace with a truth that always scared me. because maybe this is how its meant to be : me, floating in the abyss of my misery ────────˚ ₊ ‧ ⋆ ──────── 𝟏𝟓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 ⟪ h i g h e s t r a n k i n g s ⟫ #1 in poem (out of 199k stories) #1 in poetrycollection (out of 34.5k stories) #1 in words (out of 16.5k stories) #1 in poembook (out of 15.8k stories) #1 in prose (out of 9.07k stories) #1 in freeverse (out of 7.72k stories) FEATURED ON THE OFFICIAL @Poetry's "Free Verse" READING LIST

Just poetry. My random thoughts expressed by poetry, lyrics and quotes.

A collection of poems I wrote between the ages of 16 and 19, about an inescapable first love that burned like wildfire and cloud castles that crumbled into a kingdom of ruin. And from its ashes, the Knight of Hearts rode on. ©︎ 2016 Karran Kumar

"𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐢𝐭; 𝐢𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝-- 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐫-𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦-𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲--𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨 𝐈 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐲? 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐲 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨." -------------- I have been stealing stars and descending into derived madness; it is to satisfy the parasite within me. These poems are all for them: to relieve the aching, to stop the itching. In this way, I hope to stay a little bit longer and touch the hearts of people feeling the same way.

"ගමේම හැඩකාරි මම නොවෙනකොට රතු අයියන්ඩි මක්කටද මගේ ඇග මත්තේ ඉහලට පහලට යමින් ගමන් හතිලන්නේ????"

Everyone pours their day into a diary, and so do I. But I also love expressing my thoughts through poetry, so what if I combined the two? Featured on @newlywrittenbooks

කිසිදාක කිසිවෙකුට නොකියා සිතේ කොනක සිරගත කළ සිතුවිලි මෙසේ වදන්වලට පෙරළන්නෙමි........

"The million brilliant eyes of the sky all stared daggers at me As if they might explode anytime now just to light up my world And burn you to flames so you can rise as the sun I thought you were And they gently kiss me with their light as if I'm their moon Draping me into silver, questioning, "Why love him so much?" This book delves into themes of love, self- identity and enlightenment.

🌸❯────「🌸」────❮🌸 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐬. 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬. What began as a chessboard became a garden-of grief and laughter, faith and forgetting. Of fathers who never sat on thrones. Of men holding the wrong flowers on blind dates. Of a lab explosion and a Marble Queen shaking her head. Across eleven poetic forms-𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚, 𝐤𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞, 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞-𝟑❃ 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 is not one story but thirty windows into the same human heart. Some open onto darkness. Some onto dawn. Some onto beauty you didn't know you were allowed to name. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬. For readers who recognize themselves in the specific, the restrained, and the resolutely alive. 𝐕𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐕𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐨 🌸2026🌸 🌸❯────「🌸」────❮🌸

Minimalist poetry you probably didn't know you needed...💫🏛🌟

poems written by a girl who feels everything. who's been the cool girl, the healer, the one who walked away, the one who stayed too long. this is for the ones who choose themselves and still believe in love.

ꜱʜᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴩᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍy ꜱᴏᴜʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ yᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ

"Bi" is a poem-album first created without any plan at all. It started randomly on a day where I do not know to whom I could spill out the tension & heaviness of the life. So I write. Write and keep writing. Whatever emotions happened that day, I'll write, till now. I don't want all this go to waste. Its not all about me. Some based on other's life, too. "Bi" is full of emotions . Random, to be precise. You might find that all these poem are rather direct, submersive or perhaps nothing at all. but i do hope, each of the words or sentences touches your hidden dark space, which you hide even from your bloodlines, even a little, so that you know, you are never alone on this. and so, welcome to my "Bi" era.

_ 26'ya

In this wide and varied collection of poetry I hope you can find at least one to relate to.

A spine-tingling collection of bloodcurdling microfiction inspired by the "30 Days of Spooky Tales" prompts offered up by the @adultfiction, @ChickLit, @MicroBytes and @Paranormal profiles.

Some stories don't end - they linger, like April rain on quiet days. 𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 is a collection of moments that exist in the in-between - where beginnings feel uncertain, endings arrive softly, and emotions refuse to fade completely. Each poem captures fragments of connection, loss, growth, and quiet realization, unfolding like petals that never fully close. This is not a book of perfect endings. It is a book of almosts, echoes, and afterglow - of feelings that stay long after they should have left. Step gently into 𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚, where every page holds a piece of something once felt, and never entirely forgotten.

"Chronicles of a Withered Soul is a raw and haunting collection that strips the human experience to its bones. In these pages, pain is not hidden-it is confronted, dissected, and sometimes even embraced. Through gothic undertones, spoken-word rhythm, and confessional honesty, this collection explores love, loss, identity, mental illness, and the aching desire to be understood. Despite the self-deprecating title, there is nothing mediocre about the vulnerability woven into each line. This is not poetry that begs to be pretty-it demands to be real."

A collection of journals written in the quietest hours, during the loudest cries no one ever hears. Bleeding ink flows from her heart, engraving pain with every stroke on the page. Page after page is marked with stained tears, a signature of unbearable sorrow. Every fragment of memory is preserved, never forgotten.