Poetrycollection Stories

──────── ₊⋆☽◯☾⋆₊ ──────── 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 is a poetic memoir of becoming, an unfolding of myself, one fragile petal at a time. This collection traces my journey through the fragile and tangled years of teenagehood. Through each poem, you would get a glimpse of raw and unfiltered moments of love, heartbreak, loss, confusion and even hints of clarity. The title is more than just a name : it is a metaphor of growth and acceptance . Each year, each experience was a petal unfolding . Some were soft like teenage innocence while others were jagged, stained with blood, weathered by heartbreak and resilient in reaching. Some were glowing red under the eternal sunlight of euphoria while others were withered due to the droughts of insecurity and floods of pent up emotions . But together these roses compose the bouquet of my becoming. Now I offer this bouquet to you, dear reader, and hope you find petals of your own and embrace the garden you are meant to be. ──────── ₊⋆☽◯☾⋆₊ ──────── 𝟗 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 ⟪ h i g h e s t r a n k i n g s ⟫ #1 in poesia (out of 15k stories) #1 in spokenword (out of 4.57k stories) #1 in personalthoughts (out of 2.5k stories) #1 in personalexperience (out of 1.57k stories) #1 in freeverse (out of 7.74k stories)

She met a boy who felt like worship and he met a girl who felt like risk, only one was brave. He walked in with eyes like nebula he wouldn't claim. The classroom learned his name while she called him a number instead. This is the gospel of a girl who mistook observation for adoration, silence for horizon, and a boy for a god. A collection of 36 poems. -⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅ ⚠️ Reader Discretion: Worship, unspoken names, cornflower blue ink, and the kind of heartbreak that feels holy. Read if you like: Rupi Kaur × The Song of Achilles × dark academia -⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅ A/N: A number can't contain him but poetry can. Updates: Sunday 8:00 PM ET

I'm running out of explanations here. I'm winging it. I'm always winging it. The title just felt right and damn, here we are. It's poetry so if it's not your thing, you might like it. Occasionally, it may be a little prose, depending on the feeling but we'll try to keep it consistent. Does anyone ever even read these things? Ok it's about a boy, a lonely boy. Sometimes he feels like he's a thousand leagues under the sea. Other times, it's like he's been severed from reality. Whatever that means. This boy, just wants the world to understand him. But it has no obligation to. So he's stuck on the outskirts of everything and everything else hoping for some sense of clarity. It never comes. It never will. This is a documentation, of his never ending pursuit. That was decent, right? I do love letters, letter letters, confessions, police statements on the side, in case you need them. Basically, I'll handle the ever living heaven out of your writing needs. The sick part, is that it's free so feel free.. to blast the message board and I'll take the time I usually use to do something constructive and meaningful to tend to your requests. Read well, friends.

scribbling and saving those flash flood feelings

🌸❯────「🌸」────❮🌸 Drenched Cedars - A Poetry Contest/ Best Cover 🥇 🌸❯────「🌸」────❮🌸 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐬. 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬. What began as a chessboard became a garden-of grief and laughter, faith and forgetting. Of fathers who never sat on thrones. Of men holding the wrong flowers on blind dates. Of a lab explosion and a Marble Queen shaking her head. Across eleven poetic forms-𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚, 𝐤𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞, 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞-𝟑❃ 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 is not one story but thirty windows into the same human heart. Some open onto darkness. Some onto dawn. Some onto beauty you didn't know you were allowed to name. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬. For readers who recognize themselves in the specific, the restrained, and the resolutely alive. 𝐕𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐕𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐨 🌸2026🌸 🌸❯────「🌸」────❮🌸

Freeverse poetry on anything and everything *but it rhymes* Started: 4/19/26 Ended: 7/30/26

Heartfelt poetry written by me DON'T READ IF YOU KNOW ME

An original poetry collection by SSears90. Mostly dark, gloomy, and angsty (my favorite! lol) Just a collection of my feelings and thoughts on my bad days. Enjoy.

I fell for the warmth that knew it wouldn't last.

Finding Myself Series I am learning to stand in places I never thought I'd go.

A poetic collection where nature, elements, and emotions find their own voice. Each diary unveils a soul, reminding us that everything around us lives, feels, and speaks - if only we listen. So... leave certainty at the door. Bring only your curiosity. Because the pages ahead are waiting to tell you how the world has always been speaking- and perhaps, how it has been speaking to you all along. Penned by Piku GYUN 💚🌿 Note 👉 Images Credit: Gemini Ai, Canva & Pinterest 🎗️HIGHEST RANKING 🎖️#1 poetess (29th November 2025+, 6th July 2026) 🎖️#1 bestseller (26th November 2025) 🎖️#1 bookofpoems (12th November 2025+, 8th July 2026) 🥈#2 diaries (25th April 2026) 🥈#2 speak (12th November 2025) 🥉#3 bestbookever (22nd November 2025)

The city of thorns glowed with electric sorrow.

Volume twenty-three. A collection of poetry. Some short stories as well. From someone who probably needs a psychologist and inpatient care. This will include a variety of styles. It might be a little spicy. Riding a fine line. You'll want to be offended. But there is nothing. No AI. Bots were harmed. Very harmed.

A collection of my poetry. Ramblings might be a better word for it. They are one in the same.

i never felt special at all, just a ghost in the silence, waiting for an end to crawl. © Trinauthentic_2024

Alone but powerful, the poet's mind is replete with verses colourful. With sass they sashay, unbidden into the worlds they portray. Inked with finesse, they are a treasure to possess. Cover designed by the immensely talented @thatwomanlywoman321 :)

The lesson will repeat itself until you learn from it. This quote alone symbolizes the tale of A dance with A Necromancer. A foretelling memoir of one woman's secret double life finding her in each and every lifetime. All secrets don't stay buried and not all Ghosts are dead.

My pen had always scribbled from the ink of imagination, writing fiction and stories I've always longed to read. But I never would've imagined, I'd write from experience. To write through blood... through pain and tears... through anger and grief, was the last door I'd ever reach for. But it opened just for me. I never imagined I'd write poems, not about death, not about grief... not about a face I miss and can't wait too long to go back to sleep to see. No, not too soon like this. I'm not a poet, but here I am writing poetry. Hoping it would be another journey, but this time... to heal. And I do hope, that when I visit this book after a long time, I'd be somewhere better. And somehow better.

A collection of poems and quiet reflections, written in the hours when the world sleeps and the heart begins to speak louder. These pieces wander through love, pain, healing, and the emotions we carry within us-those rarely spoken, but deeply felt.

𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦. 𝘛𝘸𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥. ♡⁠𝗦𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗮𝗿 𝗠𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗮𝗺 𝗸𝗵𝗮𝗻𝘇𝗮𝗱𝗮♡⁠ wasn't defined by the power he carried, but by the gentleness he chose. The kind of man who loved with unwavering loyalty, protected without control, and made respect feel effortless. In a world full of loud promises, ♡⁠𝗛𝗲𝗲𝗿 𝗭𝗮𝗳𝗮𝗿♡⁠ believed that love was best proven through quiet actions... every single day.