This is a collection of poems written about love and sadness. ~new updates when any new poem is written~ [All work is my own. Please ask/tag/credit me in any poems you want to use, thanks!] 27th may, 2024 • #2 in poem • #6 in poetry collection • #1 in comforting

This book holds poems woven from dreams, a tapestry of fantasy and obsession, daring to explore the depths of my emotions beyond mere definition. ˚❀　.　˚　　✦　　✿　.　˚　. 　 ˚　✿.　˚　　❀ .　˚✦　.  ✿ 　　˚　　 ❀　　*　˚　 　❀　✦　˚ . For me every soul has a simple story, one that unfolds directly. But when it comes to poems, they transcend the ordinary. They are profound, open to interpretation, deciphered through the unique lens of your own perception. ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Soo..shall we uncover the magic within these pages, together exploring the spectrum of emotions and the captivating landscapes of fantasy? Umm..I'll take it as yes (*≧∀≦*) N PLS DON'T MIND MY DESCRIPTION M REALLY NOT GOOD AT IT (￣▽￣) ◇Used Pictures are not mine ◇Source: pinterest ♡So picture CREDIT goes to the rightful Author*

loneliness was my cage solitude is my home By~Renuka gavrani

الراويه : أم التوق ✍🏻 • • روايه سعوديه🇸🇦 « نقل روايتي واقتباسها يعرضك لمسائله قانونيه » اللهم بلغت اللهم فاشهد • • Instagram : jjjl1i

Im 15 and a virgin just so y'all know and if you do end up messaging me text Arctic monkeys for confirmation because I don't know who y'all are

⭑❝ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ғʟᴀɢ ʟɪᴇs ᴀ sᴛᴏʀʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ sᴛᴏʀʏ ʟɪᴇs ᴀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ. ❞⭑ Step into a world where nations whisper their secrets, and love knows no borders. A collection of bittersweet tales of ⭑ connection, ⭑ loss, and fleeting joy ⭑ in a world divided by lines and flags. Request your favorite nation and find your heart stitched into their story. ❛❛Even the strongest nations crumble under the weight of a heartache..❞

មិននឹកស្មានថាស្នេហាដែលធ្លាប់ធ្លាក់ដល់ចំណុចសូន្យស្រាប់តែអាចក្រោកឡើងវិញបានដោយសារតែកូនៗរបស់ពួកគេ...

MELANCHOLY | Melancholy drips from my fingertips. PURCHASE "MELANCHOLIC MUSE" ON AMAZON! This melancholy drips from my fingertips so slowly, you begin to forget I even exist. All of me, the hard parts of flesh you could never seem to love, drips down the drain. I am waiting for the day for your fingers to unscrew the pipes, dig through debris and mess, scrape your heart against the rust, just to find me, so we can go through it all over again. Here, in the pages I find myself, in the ink that writes against my flesh, I will whisper the sadness, the heartache, and the decaying for all of the unspoken. Perhaps under this layer of melancholy, the girl I once knew still exists.    First poetry collection in the series. Original poems based off real life experiences. #12 in poetry. Cover template made by @KaleidoGraphix on Canva. 𝑴𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚 copyright © May Garner. 2017. All Rights Reserved.

~ are these the last ones / or the ones that'll last? ~

we're all beggars here, clawing at each other's sepia-toned loneliness ... || caffeinated afterthoughts and lovers' vomit ||