Prose Stories

My old poems and quotes. Currently editing. Finished (2021)

The lesson will repeat itself until you learn from it. This quote alone symbolizes the tale of A dance with A Necromancer. A foretelling memoir of one woman's secret double life finding her in each and every lifetime. All secrets don't stay buried and not all Ghosts are dead.

What do you do when the world is quiet but your mind won't shut up? 3 AM Unsent Messages is a haunting, intimate collection of fragmented thoughts, whispered confessions, and emotional snapshots scribbled in the dark. Equal parts journal, poetry, and stream-of-consciousness therapy, this book captures the sleepless moments where memories hit hardest, regrets echo loudest, and truths are too raw to say aloud. With the vulnerable honesty of a midnight voicemail and the strange comfort of a stranger's open diary, these unsent messages explore love, loss, nostalgia, and the beautiful chaos of being awake when everyone else is dreaming. This is not a book you read... it's one you feel. This is especially made for anyone who has ever stared at the ceiling and thought, "I shouldn't be feeling this much right now." PS. some photos used as chapter covers aren't mine. ALL CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNER/S.

What do you do with a truth that has no voice? Smeraldo explores the fragile boundary between memory and numbness. In this collection of prose poetry, the questions don't demand answers, and the pain doesn't move. There are no grand resolutions here-only the quiet, heavy reality of the things we bury in order to survive. A deeply personal, confessional journey through the thoughts whispered only in the dark, capturing the heavy weight of a silence that refuses to lift.

Some stories are meant to be read. Some are meant to be felt. And some quietly find their way into the little corners of your heart you thought you had forgotten. Petals Between Ink & Quill is a collection of standalone poetry - where ordinary moments carry extraordinary weight, silence speaks louder than words, and the smallest feelings bloom into something unforgettable. Here, a rainy afternoon can feel like a memory. A half-finished letter can hold an entire lifetime. A forgotten photograph can reopen a thousand doors. And a few lines of poetry can say everything that conversations never could. Between these pages lie fragments of love and longing, nostalgia and loneliness, hope and heartbreak, dreams and disappointments - the beautiful mess of being human, written in ink and scattered like petals between the pages. So, before you begin... Let the rain do its thing against the window. Dim the lights. Put on that soft playlist you've been pretending not to be obsessed with. And just sit there with a steaming cup of garam chai, a plate of crispy, hot pakoras, a few Parle-G biscuits, and some namkeen within reach because honestly, what is reading without a little munching on the side? Turn the page. Slowly. Because these aren't stories you simply read. They linger. They sit beside you long after the last sentence. They become the line you underline. The poem you reread. The verse you stare at for a little too long. The feeling you cannot quite explain, but somehow know. Somewhere between the ink and the quill, you may find a piece of yourself. So come in. The pages are waiting. And the chai is getting cold. ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: If you are reading this book on any other platform other than Wattpad you are very likely to be at risk of a malware attack. If you wish to read this story in its original, safe, form, please go to @moonlightxmysteries on Wattpad. Thank you. ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

A prose poem.

Life is like a slam book. We open ourselves to others, inviting them to leave their mark. Their words - scribbles on our pages - reveal their thoughts and feelings. We can't control what they write; we can only read, turn the page, and move forward. Each entry becomes a testament to our shared experiences. We cherish them, learn from them, and grow through these interactions. And so, this book - Remain Unsaid... - holds the unspoken feelings I've gathered from the people who filled those pages, alongside my own moments of quiet futility. Feelings of love, betrayal, and blessings - too profound to express to the ones who wrote them - find their way here instead, poured into words that mirror my soul. To those who have walked similar paths, who have felt the depths of love, loss, futility, and longing - may these words validate your emotions, comfort you in silence, and remind you of your strength. - A'nonymous

Welcome to Poet's Corner. Here we review and celebrate fresh poetry created by the community. Yes, that's YOU!

🌸❯────「🌸」────❮🌸 𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝟷𝟶 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝟷 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛-𝚞𝚙 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚅𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟼 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 @𝙿𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚢. 🌸❯────「🌸」────❮🌸 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🌸 🌸❯────「🌸」────❮🌸

The Scribe of the Empty Room is a novel rendered from Yusuf Ataa's original poem, "My Unknown Love." Thank you for stepping into this journey-may you find clarity and resonance in these pages.

──────── ₊⋆☽◯☾⋆₊ ──────── 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. ──────── ₊⋆☽◯☾⋆₊ ──────── 𝟗 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 ⟪ 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 personalthoughts (out of 2.5k stories) #1 in personalexperience (out of 1.57k stories) #1 in freeverse (out of 7.74k stories)

Life is hard to explain. I can't feel without writing words.

This book is not about success. Not about relationships. Not about advice. This is a voice. The voice of a woman who is tired of being a function. Who has realized that strength is not a cause, but a symptom. Who has stopped apologizing for her silence and for her anger. There are no fictional characters here. There is her. And her monologues. About everyday life, about death, about love, about instant noodles, and about how to stay alive when everyone around you expects you to be "convenient." If you have ever felt that you are loved like a ladder - as long as you bear the weight - this book is for you. Living loudly is not about noise. It's about honesty.

Poems written by me during my early 20s.

Bundles of short-stories and proses. - shout out to those amazing poets that inspired most of these stories and those who gave me bittersweet memories. xo, c.t.

She who daydreams as you unfold her pages, little by little.

The storm said to the wall, "I rage to give you purpose." And then the storm said to me, "I rage to give you life."

Thoughts that seek no logic, poems that fly without taking any direction. A collection that does not seek to engage in discourse, though the Outer and the Inner both demand it. No images, only words shaping a diary that seeks neither a purpose, nor an end.

i'd bleed gold for you.

A Collection of Poetry; written by someone who's still figuring it all out. [All Rights Reserved. This work was made without AI and may not be used to train AI. Cover art is also mine]