Year 23 of living on the Earth. She spilled ink on the glass and stepped on it, breaking in process. The shards still dig deeps into the skin and she is searching for the cracks ,all these years and filling it with words to heal. Feel free to enjoy your stay,stranger. Be kind to yourself . Love,Windy
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Huesofwind
Mar 10, 2025 10:45AM
I saw someone quoting my poem and I am like THAT'S MINE!!! they didn't know who the author was and told me they read it somewhere! I don't know if it's some copyrighting or my poems getting recognis...View all Conversations
Stories by Windy Hues
Typewriter
Tiny tales from moments of insanity and intense emotions.
From Winds, curled up in corner of the library with books in her hands, her head stuck in clouds and mind battling with herself.
Warning: Contains triggeri...
Ethereal
Ethereal
/ɪˈθɪərɪəl/
extremely delicate and light in a way that seems not to be of this world.
"Deep into that darkness peering,
long I stood there,
wondering, fearing, doubting,
dreaming dreams no mortal
...
Handwritten
Because of YOU,
In Gardens of blossoming flowers
I ache from the perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face.
I no longer remember your hands.
How did your lips feel on mine?
----PABLO NERUDA
Poems from the dept...