Selfreflection Histoires

The thoughts that carried me, day by day, until I arrived at the day my marriage ended.

These are poems, I created in my head. They are on real events. Not always about serious things, some have peaceful yet beautiful things. Trigger warnings include: Mention of depression mention of suicide mention of bullying mention of ableism mention of abuse (sexual, verbal, emotional, financial, etc) and trauma if you're uncomfortable with any of these, please read something else for the sake of your mental health and safety. If you can, seek professional help. If you relate or resonate with these experiences let me know. Because I want to say that...you're not alone. Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment and vote, no pressure. Please don't steal my poems and certainly don't put them through AI. These poems are created by me. PUBLISHED DATE: 11th March 2026 COMPLETED:

Disclaimer: This is raw, unpolished, and deeply personal. It explores themes of loneliness, resilience, and identity. © 2026 Nyxerose. All rights reserved. This work is original and may not be reproduced, distributed, or used without permission from the author. Published on Wattpad, Inkitt, Reddit and Tumblr under the username Nyxerose. Will be posted on RoyalRoad as well

Not everything makes sense at first. But maybe... every feeling, every moment, every phase is trying to teach you something. This story is about finding meaning in the middle of it all and If you've ever felt lost... you might find a piece of yourself here.

A personal and introspective journey into the mind of a writer who questions everything around him, including himself. Through thoughts about identity, personality, and the weight of unanswered questions, the book explores what it means to live with a restless mind that never stops searching for meaning, even when the answers are hard to find.

Softness & Other Tempests is a collection of poems born in quiet hours, when the world is asleep and thoughts are loudest. It holds the soft parts of me and the storms I couldn't hide. For anyone who has ever felt too much, too loud, too sensitive - and survived it.

What if almost everything people call "smart" is wrong? What if intelligence is not wisdom? What if wisdom is not goodness? And what if the people who speak with the most confidence are usually the ones who understand the least? This is not a novel. This is a short, dark philosophical book about intelligence, certainty, overconfidence, truth, and the dangerous side of seeing life too clearly. Some truths do not free you. They ruin the simple version of life you used to survive inside. If you've ever questioned people, beliefs, confidence, "deep" internet culture, or the way humans throw around words like smart, wise, and genius without understanding them, this book is for you. This is not here to motivate you. It is here to make you think twice before calling anyone wise. Including yourself. Written by JJ

🖤 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.

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

Some stories don't end - they fade, leaving behind an afterglow. This collection is a quiet unraveling of moments that almost happened and feelings that never found their voice. From silent battles fought like storm, to fleeting connections born under midnight skies, each piece lingers in the space between holding on and letting go. These poems are not about perfect endings. They are about the pause before goodbye, the echo after love, the beauty of what could have been. Step in gently- not everything here is meant to heal. Some things are only meant to be felt.

There are truths that do not arrive all at once. They come softly- in the stillness of devotion, in the weight of silence, in the turning of moments. Some truths whisper like a prayer. Some rise like a storm. And some simply wait- until they can no longer remain hidden. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐘𝐀 is a collection of poems that moves between the sacred and the human, between faith and justice, between what is felt... and what is finally spoken. This is not just about finding truth. It is about standing in it- even when it trembles, even when it burns.

The Almosts the ones that got away I have a type. Not in looks. Not in status. But in almosts. The kind that feels like it's going somewhere- until it suddenly isn't. This is a series of people I thought were love. Turns out, they were just...almost.

Late bloomer : someone who becomes successful, attractive, etc., at a later time in life than other people.

Enrich your day-to-day vocabulary and attain the wisdom of many generations. Each memorable phrase, adage and proverb will pass the torch of confirmed and invaluable knowledge with respect to the behaviors of people, perseverance, the passage of time and the importance of the self. ~~~ Always unfinished. Updated regularly. ~~~

A collection of poetry.

Not every scream is loud. Some are written. I WROTE THIS INSTEAD OF SCREAMING is a collection of prose and poems born from those moments-when emotions grow too heavy to hold and too quiet to be heard. From quiet heartbreaks to overwhelming guilt, from love that lingers to healing that hurts, these pages carry the echoes of everything left unsaid.

All of my short stories were going to be inside this book. It was going to be a combination of nonfiction and fiction short stories. I decided to turn the fiction stories into their own stories. This book is just the nonfiction stories of my life.

On the edge of a quiet town, where the road curves and the night settles in, an old man sits on a porch and tells stories. He doesn't tell them to crowds. He doesn't tell them for answers. He tells them to the night-and to anyone who happens to wander by. Each story carries something different: something lost, something carried too long, something mistaken for truth, something that refuses to leave. They are not stories meant to fix you. They are stories that sit beside you... until you're ready to hear them. Welcome to the porch. The night is already listening.

There's just something so peaceful about the late hours that brings out the creativity in me. I have had these poems in my journals and diaries for years, thought it was time somebody read them. I hope you like it..<3