If Im Your World , Be My Water
  • Reads 903
  • Votes 166
  • Parts 191
  • Time 46m
  • Reads 903
  • Votes 166
  • Parts 191
  • Time 46m
Ongoing, First published Sep 21, 2021
Some poems are written with pen, but some poems are written with pain.


if i'm your world, be my water-
for there is the woman representing nature, a man, unfortunately, resembling water. 

being a woman is very frail- yes, indeed.

for it manipulated everything: being saint, the integrity and what we call dignity.

for man that waters her woman, helping her grow. he showered love like a magic wand for it not only draws enthrallment from everyone, but it also touches her soul. he watered her existence like she's the most magical and gorgeous garden he had ever been. and she never knew, not only his love portrays pots of glued petals, but her feelings too. she suddenly bloomed.

like a lil flower that needs care, he watered her pure with tension-

for a woman that helps his man, helping him also grow. 

he screams ocean. wordless hymns of the sea: immediate, extemporized passages about waves and sunlight and tides and the constant, beautiful pressure of water on everything. the glory of seaweed slowly swaying, the delicious feeling that foretold a storm in the dry world and turbulence below. 

he feels like he's in paradise above. the woman filled his stomach not only with butterflies but with clouds hovering around. her love and sacrifices cleansed his soul for he feel light and pure. and she brought him to the sky where he could hear the angels singing. it's heavenly.

it says, she'll be your world and be her water. water her right and she'll give you anything. like a plant who needs water, if you water it then it'll will grow and give you something. like an ocean, without land it would be nothing.-lift each other and grow together.-
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Slide 1 of 10
Cold Water cover
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Cold Water

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[BWWM] I was only twelve years old when the world turned cold. The day my mom died in that car accident, I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my heart. My dad, who had always been my hero, suddenly became a stranger, filled with rage and blame. He couldn't see that I was hurting, too; he only saw me as a reminder of his loss. The accusations cut deep. He said it was my fault for being there, for not doing something to save her. For being the reason she was in the car in the first place. In the years that followed, things only got worse. The abuse started gradually-a harsh word here, a shove there-but it escalated, leaving scars that I carried long after the physical pain faded. I was drowning in my own despair, struggling to keep my head above water while my father's anger raged like a storm around me. I only had a break from his anger when I started living with Aunt Dina-my mom's older sister. Well, that was because she found me nearly dead on my bed after I took a dozen pills. I was tired of living. I had hit rock bottom. The harsh whispers that followed me around and the stares at school. I pretended not to notice, like it didn't bother me. But it did. I was alone. Then came Athalia, a ray of sunshine cutting through my darkness. With her, I felt something I hadn't felt in years-happiness. She became my light through the darkness and my lifeline. ••••••••••• ● Warnings ⚠️ ~ Mention of suicide ~ Anxiety attacks ~ Rape attempt ~ Mention of self-harm ~ Depression