When Silence Bled
- Reads 50
- Votes 11
- Parts 11
A collection of poetry where silence speaks in wounds and whispers. 'When Silence Bled' unearths the beauty in sorrow, the weight of unspoken words, and the quiet ache of love and loss. Haunting, tender, and unflinchingly honest- these verses linger long after the last page is turned.
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This is a series of short stories, poems and thoughts I've written over the years, compiled into this collection. Most of these were written years ago. Some I've written as early as this year (2025). The purpose of this volume is to feel. Feel everything as though you are the main character experiencing each emotion expressed through my writing. These are written through my perspective as a woman, but please let this resonate with you regardless of your identity. Please vote, comment, like and share. Thank you! - nhiamareComplete
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❝The calm in my marrow spoke in muted bursts of fireworks. I was born for explosions and trying to be less.❞ Over the past decade, I've written poems, books, short stories, fanfiction and hundreds of thousands of words, but nothing felt complete. This collection of selected works was meant to be my final offering- the only thing ready for posthumous publication. Blood Orange Periphery includes poems written in the months preceding the end-that-didn't-happen, some of my best teenage scribbles, and journal entries that chronicle the transition from death-planning to recalibrating life.Complete
UNHEARD SCREAM
In the echoes of words and letters, Sweetness and bitterness linger, Scars bleed unseen, Smiles adorn a facade serene. In 'Unheard Scream's' pages, Unveil the unspoken thoughts in ages, With bleeding pen, creation's art, Poems heal, mending this broken heart. -ResNullius #2 SPOKENPOETRY #3 MgaTula/10/11/2020 #1 MgaTula /10/12/2020 #1 SPOKENPOETRY/10/15/2020Complete
WHEN THE RAIN FORGOT TO FALL
I wrote this because I needed to survive it. Because there are some feelings too big for silence. Some heartbreaks too heavy to carry alone. This isn't fiction. This is my heart, broken open and rearranged into verse. "I saw you standing where the sidewalk curves, and suddenly my chest knew different words." - That's how it started. A glance. A stranger. A feeling I couldn't ignore. "You said we needed to talk. Those five words, I knew. I already knew." - And that's how it ended. Not with fire. With silence. I won't tell you that time heals all wounds. I won't say everything happens for a reason. I won't pretend heartbreak makes you stronger. But I will show you that: You can survive what you think will destroy you. You can break and still become beautiful. You can love someone and lose them and still be whole. You can be your own happy ending. I wrote these poems with tears on my face. I wrote them on good days when I forgot to hurt. Every word is something I actually felt. Every line is a moment I actually lived. "You are not broken. You are breaking open. And that's where the light gets in." - That's what this taught me. That's what I hope it gives you, the comfort of knowing you're not alone.Complete
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Ink Me In Ghost Words
I never meant to keep the letters. I only wrote them to spill the words I couldn't say aloud to bleed the truth onto paper, seal it, and let time quietly carry it away. But time didn't take them. You stayed etched in every unsent line, every silence I tried to write through. This isn't a love story, It's the aftermath of love when it fades without noise, when hearts break quietly, and memories linger in ink that never dries. He was the goodbye I never spoke, and I was the story he never finished reading. So for every draft left unopened, for every feeling buried deep, and every love that never found its ending will you ever return to me, or will I keep writing letters while you continue to ink me in ghost words?Complete
This isn't just a story - it's a piece of the author's own heart. A connection between two who never planned to find each other, yet somehow did - in a fleeting moment, in a word, in a silence. A forbidden love. A love filled with longing and sacrifice. It was a love that lived in du'as, in unread messages, in sleepless nights and unsaid words. A love full of submission - not just to the feeling, but to the One who created it. This is a story of quiet connection, unspoken feelings, and deep-rooted emotions that lived between silence and prayer. A love marked by hardship, longing, and submission - not just to the feeling, but to the will of the One who wrote it. Not every love is meant to last in this world. But some loves never truly leave.
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