histórias de Poetrycollection

A book of short form poetry. Center justified. Some titles more viscous than wet. Read to find out what I mean.

In the Absence of Answers is a collection written in the quiet spaces between certainty and collapse. These pages are not solutions. They are reflections, maps drawn in the dark, directions taken and regretted, warmth sought and sometimes refused. Each piece walks through doubt, distance, faith, and the fragile act of continuing anyway. If you are looking for clarity, you may not find it here. But you may recognize yourself in the search. S. Darwin

Finding Myself Series - Book 4 I am learning to stand in places I never thought I'd go.

This is a collection of my poetry. Each individual chapter is a standalone poem, and they aren't in any particular order. I'll add to it if I create any more, but they tend to be spontaneous so I don't have a schedule for updates. "Gates of Heaven" is the name of my favourite special limit hand in Mah Jongg, which I play regularly, hence the name is somewhat personal.

About Happiness

Late bloomer : someone who becomes successful, attractive, etc., at a later time in life than other people.

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

This book is a collection of the thoughts that drift through my mind and the emotions that echo in my heart. Each poem is a moment - sometimes quiet, sometimes loud - shaped by love, loss, hope, and everything in between. These words are pieces of me, written in the moments when silence spoke the loudest. If you've ever felt too much or nothing at all, maybe you'll find yourself in these pages.

The city of thorns glowed with electric sorrow.

"𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐢𝐭; 𝐢𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝- 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐫-𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦-𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲-𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨 𝐈 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐲? 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐲 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨." -------------- I have been stealing stars and descending into derived madness; it is to satisfy the parasite within me. These poems are all for them: to relieve the aching, to stop the itching. In this way, I hope to stay a little bit longer and touch the hearts of people feeling the same way.

My life through poems

✨️ The Best Title Award ✨🥇 On Ashes And Ink - Poetry Contest 2025 🥇TRVA25 Award🥇 ✨️BEST TITLE WINNER✨️ ✨️Nevergale - A Poetry Contest✨️ 🥇winner of Original Poem🥇 "The Sea, Not a Pool"poem "Night Came, I Became the Sun" is a collection of poems that moves through the quiet corners of human emotions-sorrow, hope, love, and loss. These verses are not just a reflection of one soul, but of many, capturing the feelings we often carry in silence. Through shadows and light, the poems reveal how even in the darkest nights, there can be warmth, beauty, and a spark of radiance that belongs to us all.

This collection of poems captures the wandering thoughts of my mind-moments of reflection, fleeting emotions, and the quiet whispers of my heart. Each verse is a glimpse into the world within, unraveling the delicate threads of joy, pain, nostalgia, and hope. Through these words, I invite you to join me on a journey through the landscapes of the mind, where feelings are expressed freely and truths are discovered quietly. Let this book be a mirror to your own heart, a place where words come alive and the soul finds its voice.

poetry ---> "poieo" (ancient Greek ---> "I create") to touch a soul ♡ [drabbles & heart spills]. © Literalight 2026

when the glass feathers fall im left to mourn.

A collection of thoughts that wander through the maze that is my mind. Most poems are about longing, memory, emotional persistence, vulnerability and the soft ache of unfinished emotions.

These pages hold feelings I lived through, learned from, and finally let go of.

🌈 Everything I Never Said Out Loud 🌈 💌 a poetry collection by Skye Gillespie I can't always tell people what I wish to say. But I also can't stay silent forever holding my pain to myself. So this is the perfect balance for that. This book will never be popular enough for tons of reads, but maybe one person will find it and feel less alone. I guess It's like my way screaming into a void. This is a collection of all the words I never had the courage to say to people. 🏳️‍🌈 Poems about queer love. 💔 About broken families. ♾️ About growing up differently. 🌙 About the noises in my head, the aching in my chest, and the way grief lingers in quiet rooms. 🩹 About healing, heartbreak, and the endless search for a home - in others, and in myself. From love letters that I never sent 💌 to the things I wish I told my father and mother 🕊️ to the versions of me that never made it out of my mind 🧠 It is raw. honest. soft. loud.... It is me.... It's everything I never said out loud...... until now. I hope this makes someone out there feel just a little less alone. You are not alone 💖 💖 💖 . Life is a fight we are all fighting. This is my story, how I deal with life's struggles, and a testament to my strength to get back up after every fall. Thank you for reading!

The Last Love of the Lost Land (Book Description) By Leni Marlina - This book is a gathering of whispers poems born from a wounded world where love refuses to die. It speaks of lands forgotten by history, of cities slowly swallowed by the quiet hunger of time. Streets crumble into silence, walls remember footsteps, and voices, once bright with life fade gently into the dust of memory. Yet somewhere among ruins and broken stones, something still breathes. Love. These poems wander through corridors of memory, through the long roads of exile, through the fragile chambers of the human heart. They carry longing like a lantern in the dark, they carry resistance like a seed beneath frozen earth, waiting for the season of hope. They speak of homelands that survive only in stories, of civilizations fractured by forgetting, of hearts that still remember what the world has tried to erase. But this is not only a book of loss. It is also a quiet testimony to those who continue to love even when their land slowly disappears from the map. For the last love of a lost land is rarely found in monuments of stone or in the loud halls of power. More often it survives in something fragile, something human, something that refuses silence. It survives in poetry. - Padang, West Sumatra, Indonesia, 2026

When the mist subsided, your eyes found me again.