My Poetry Collection
- Leituras 65
- Votos 23
- Capítulos 4
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His mistress
Loving him was the cruelest kind of torment-a love that lived in the shadows, one that could never bask in the warmth of the sun. I was nothing more than a stolen moment, a whispered name in the dark, a secret he tucked away between the life he had built and the one he wished he could have. I knew, deep down, that I was a fracture in his story, a fleeting escape from the weight of his reality. And yet, I still clung to him, to the illusion that for a few precious hours, he was mine. But the truth was relentless-it came in the form of unanswered texts, in the way he dressed hurriedly after loving me, in the way he said her name with the same tenderness he once gave me. I had given him my heart, knowing he would never be able to keep it, and yet, I loved him still. Loved him as I watched him walk away, loved him as he returned to the arms of the woman he truly belonged to, loved him as I drowned in the loneliness he left behind. Because no matter how much I wished it to be different, I was not his home-I was just a place he visited before going back to where his heart truly lived.Concluída
Under My Skin
Natalie hates many people at her high school. She doesn't have very many friends or fit in. She has her own sense of style that others find unappealing. But she doesn't care. She especially hates the most popular couple in school. They constantly have run-ins. She can't wait to get out of her small town and never come back after graduation. Until one day something happens that completely shocks and surprises her. Will she change her mindset? Warning: Read at your own risk! Contains graphic sexual contact, uses vulgar language, toxic relationships, and derogatory comments that people may find offensive. This is your only warning!Concluída
My Words Through Blood; Bile And Love
a collection of poems, musings, and unfinished stories I have written over the past few years that helped me process everything I've gone through -Disclaimer- I am not a professional writer, nor am I looking for criticism on my writing. The things I have written are derived from the pains I have suffered over the course of my life and I wouldn't appreciate anyone picking apart my works as it would be like picking at healing wounds. Please respect this, you don't have to think it's good and you don't have to like it, but please don't criticize it. "I suppose I love my scars Because They have Stayed Longer Than Most People Have" - Nikita Gill
Its You... only You / Biblejeff /
A deal sealed in betrayal. A love tested by fate. When sacrifice becomes the only choice, will they surrender-or fight back? ⬆️Top Bible ⬇️Bottom Jeff #biblejeff ff ©️®️ It's you-Only You - written by Tklv_7 This fanfiction is a work of pure imagination. The characters and events depicted are entirely fictional and not based on real-life individuals or situations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This story is created for entertainment purposes only.
confessions i will never say and other proses | poetry book 1 ✔
❛❛and i admit to cheating by still hiding my feelings and getting away with it.❞ a small shelf of thoughts and proses for someone who isn't hers. book 1 of the poetic flowers series. other books : • a hurricane of blues • letters after dark s t a r t e d : january 2020 f i n i s h e d : june 2020 s t a t u s : completedConcluída
Beneath the Surface: Just Some Poetry
A collection of poems by me
Loving him was the cruelest kind of torment-a love that lived in the shadows, one that could never bask in the warmth of the sun. I was nothing more than a stolen moment, a whispered name in the dark, a secret he tucked away between the life he had built and the one he wished he could have. I knew, deep down, that I was a fracture in his story, a fleeting escape from the weight of his reality. And yet, I still clung to him, to the illusion that for a few precious hours, he was mine. But the truth was relentless-it came in the form of unanswered texts, in the way he dressed hurriedly after loving me, in the way he said her name with the same tenderness he once gave me. I had given him my heart, knowing he would never be able to keep it, and yet, I loved him still. Loved him as I watched him walk away, loved him as he returned to the arms of the woman he truly belonged to, loved him as I drowned in the loneliness he left behind. Because no matter how much I wished it to be different, I was not his home-I was just a place he visited before going back to where his heart truly lived.
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