𝑀𝑎𝑑 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟♡︎

Hi, dear poet 
          I went through your book, and in such a short time, I became a big fan!
          And the last poem, JEALOUS GIRL — uff, too good, too real!
          I loved each and every one of your pieces 
          I’m new to Wattpad, and I also write poetry in Hindi, Urdu, and English.
          You may check out my poems and connect with me if you like.
          And if not, that’s totally fine — I already love your work so much 

Hello,
          
          I’ve just published a new poem entitled “The Angel Who Delivered Man from the Island of His Solitude.”  
          I truly believe it might resonate with you.
          
          It is a deeply reflective piece that explores human loneliness and the encounter between shadow and light.
          
          I’m sharing the link below in case you’d like to discover it:
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/409005467?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=LePhilosophedeLombre

Your style is great and I like it I hope you add more parts

Hi hiccups!
          I’m back temporarily, but I’ll be leaving in less than a week.
          Thank you so much for still reading my book even though I haven’t been active — it honestly means the world to me 
          Happy late Valentine’s Day, loves! May your hearts be full of sweet little moments, soft smiles, stolen glances, and the kind of love that lingers in your chest like a favourite song 
          And to anyone celebrating their birthday today, 25.02.26, or from 01.02.26 up to today — happy birthday or belated birthday! May your year be full of laughter, mischief, and little sparks that make life magical ✨
          The book is almost coming to an end… Once it does, I’ll polish all the mistakes because right now, I’m super busy with school 
          Thank you for all your sweet comments, love, and support — it really keeps me going ❤️
          -Kendra.

Hii hiccups✌
          ✨1,000 reads…can you believe it?✨ To everyone who paused, lingered, laughed, cried, or just skimmed through my chaotic words—thank you. Every view, every clap, every heart you left behind isn’t just a number—it’s a piece of this little universe I built with ink and emotion. You made my poems breathe, my thoughts dance, and my wildest imaginings feel seen. Here’s to every messy line, every raw feeling, every late-night scribble…because without you, this wouldn’t even exist. You’re not just readers—you’re co-conspirators in my madness. 
          ~Kendra✌

✨ New Year, New Pages ✨
          Hi my hiccups 
          As this year begins, I just want to say thank you.
          Thank you for reading my words, for holding my stories gently, for letting my feelings feel like they belong somewhere. This book has been my home, my mirror, my confession and my healing — and you’re a part of that now.
          This year will look a little different for me.
          I’ll be in boarding school, so I won’t be very active here… but the book will keep breathing.
          Chapters will still be posted regularly through autopost — the story won’t stop even when I’m quiet.
          Think of it as my voice reaching you even when I’m away 
          I’m stepping into this year with soft courage, messy hope, and a heart full of words I haven’t written yet.
          Stay with me.
          Grow with me.
          Let’s see where these pages take us.
          With love & ink,
          Kendra ️

NEW BOOK COVER!!!
          
          Edited by the one and only...Gia.
          Thank you so much, Mama, for the tweaks you've made to the original cover. This new one gives a more soft, feminine, and blurry shimmer. [Pund intended].
          Mob love to you<3.
          This new look had to sky rocket... don't you think?
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/404393411?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create&wp_uname=Lostwriter_1

MY POETRY MANIFESTO
          I write because silence was never gentle with me.
          I write because my body learned language before safety.
          I refuse to make pain pretty for comfort.
          I refuse to soften truth so it can be swallowed easier.
          My poems are not written to be liked —
          they are written to be felt.
          I will speak of girlhood as it was:
          watched, taken, congratulated, blamed.
          I will use religion not as obedience
          but as metaphor,
          because even superior beings must answer questions.
          I will write love that never touched me,
          because longing still leaves fingerprints.
          I will repeat myself when the world pretends it forgot.
          I will name what others bury.
          My poetry is not healing —
          it is evidence.
          And if my words make you uncomfortable,
          remember:
          they were born from something far worse.