Poesie Stories

J'écris de la poésie parce que j'aime être entre la réalité et les rêves, comme j'aime écrire aussi mes peines et mes joies, comment dire peut être que je voudrais toucher des cœurs avec mes poèmes.

"C'est en dualité brisée Que je continue de valser. Petite rose fanée Qui ne sait plus marcher." Les médias ajoutés ne m'appartiennent pas.

Un fragment, un mirage. Elle est devenue pour elle même une inconnue, ce n'à jamais été une chute, juste une lente reconstruction.

Diese Gedichte sind Geschichten aus meinem Gedanken, Geschichten die mich Gefunden und nicht los gelassen haben. Weswegen ich sie aufschrieb. Da meine Gedichte alle auf englisch verfasst habe veröffentliche ich sie auch auf eben dieser Sprache .

Leggimi

**Scene Excerpt:** Instinctively, I reached for her, pulled her toward me, wrapped an arm around her back and held her as if that was exactly what I should have been doing all night. Her slight frame fit frighteningly well against my side, her body warm, her breathing uneven. I stroked her back in a steady, soothing rhythm, trying to understand what had happened without pressing her for answers. After a while, she lifted her head and looked at me, her eyes glassy and tired. Then she leaned in, slowly, uncertainly, as if she wanted to kiss me. As a thank you. Or out of desperation. Or maybe both. I gently held her back. "No," I said quietly, barely more than a breath. "Not like this." She blinked, seeming to need a moment to process my words. "I'm sorry," she murmured then, the words heavy on her tongue. "We're just friends. I know." That sentence-my sentence-hit me harder than I had expected. "If tomorrow," I said calmly, resting a hand against her forehead, "if you still want to kiss me when you're not drunk anymore... then do it. Okay?" Without thinking, I pressed a fleeting kiss to her forehead. No calculation. Just instinct. She clung to me tighter, pulling me closer, and I let her. More than that-I enjoyed it. Cara has learned to stay silent. About guilt. About things that can't be undone. And about a past she keeps carefully hidden. Jan believes in order, in rules-and in the idea that life makes sense if you follow them. But on an old estate on the Spanish coast, he meets a girl who quietly, yet irrevocably, begins to shake those convictions. Between horses, sea air, and unspoken truths, a closeness grows-cautious at first, then dangerously honest. Because some stories refuse to be buried. And some feelings demand more than courage. The photos are from Pinterest

"che cosa senti se ti fermi e ascolti? Magari il traffico, oppure è solo rumore, magari puoi sentire il battito del tuo cuore..." Se ti interessano le mie riflessioni sotto forma di poesia o sei soltanto curios*, direi che sei nel posto giusto. Quindi perché no, magari dai una letta!

just a collection of nice or sinister poems

when the moon is the highest in the sky, that's when I feel the true colors of the world, the quiet one, the gentle one and the hard one. Because everything fall upon me. This is when I decide to put my loudest thoughts on paper, when the breach between my dreams and reality is blurred and suddenly, I'm a little more than myself. I become my poems. Recueil de poésie écrit en anglais, par une autrice française.

𝚑𝚎𝚢𝚢❤️ 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐... ~ the art of romanticizing life, melancholy and to put it simple: deep thoughts ~ ...𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝. Over quite some time I gathered a little collection of different pieces of poetry which are all very personal to me, but which I would also love to share with the world. As an outlet for my thoughts ~ Each part will also feature a picture of the original piece I once wrote into my little book. My friends say my handwriting's pretty, I hope they're right. - no kidding ; ) really, I would appreciate it, if u took a look inside. <3 ongoing ~ more chapters every week xo, S🌹❤️ started 12/04/2023

Qui raccolgo frammenti della mia storia in poesie, spero possano far sentire qualcuno meno solo. Parlerò di dolore, disturbi mentali, disturbi alimentari, autolesionismo, abusi sessuali, disagi familiari.... Spero di essere d'aiuto a qualcuno

Poems and lyrics are an art and we are the artist, who bring our masterpieces to life

Je l'avoue, le titre est mensonger... Non non, il y aura bien des poèmes. En vers. (Parfois pas). Rythmés d'un mètre précis. (Parfois pas). Remplis de sentiments et d'expériences personnelles. (Toujours). Non, c'est juste que l'action dépassera sûrement février x)

Wort Sammlung🖤 Cover by: Me

A poem about finding comfort in darkness

Un court recueil de poème qui fait parti d'une série de recueil, chacun appartenant à un thème.

Different thoughts, mixed in one mind.

Je vous partage des poésies écrites tout au long de cette année de LAS... Autobiographique.

Associons le rouge à l'amour sans sexe, Transformons l'orange en énergie à créer de nouvelles choses, Dédions au jaune le bonheur et la joie de se savoir en vie, Signons le vert comme la couleur de Dame Nature, Classons le bleu comme calme et doux. Mêlons poésie et musique, dessinons des arcs en ciels sur les routes, les trottoirs, les murs, et clamons forts qui nous sommes au monde entier, que les couleurs reviennnent égayer les quotidiens.

Submerged between forever and never./ Immerso tra sempre e mai./ Immergé entre toujours et jamais./ Eingetaucht zwischen Immer und Nie. ______________________________________________________________ Questa è una raccolta di poesie/ This is a collection of poems/ Ceci est une collection de poèmes/ Dies ist eine Sammlung von Gedichten.