On this Rose Day, petals of love and gentleness unfold 🌹.
Let go of fragmented thoughts and block the noise that's not yours.
With you and loved ones, may kindness bloom like a rose in spring.
Feel the softness, breathe the sweetness — like a rose, be gentle with yourself.
Feb 7
Feb 7, 2026 at 4:21 AM UTC
Words alone are not poetry,
not every sound deserves a soul.
Conversations pass like footsteps,
heard once, then lost to time.
Poetry is when words learn to feel,
when silence between lines starts speaking.
It is a gentle ache in the chest,
a pause where the heart listens.
Poetry is not said — it is felt.
It stays after the voice is gone,
touching something deep and unnamed
each time it’s read,
each time it’s heard.
Dec 20, 2025
Dec 20, 2025 at 11:04 PM UTC
I asked myself tonight…
Am I lost, or am I a ghost?
Walking through these city lights
that don’t feel like home no more.
People talk with typing hands,
not eyes, not hearts, not truth.
Everyone’s locked inside a phone,
and I got no one to talk to.
Feels like the world’s on mute,
every soul on flight mode—
And I’m just standing here
with a heart that’s stuck on loud.
I’m a ghost in the crowd,
fading out, fading out—
Searching for love in a world
where love is just a filter now.
I’m a heartbeat too real
for a world that’s shut down—
Tell me, who do I trust
when every “love” is just online
and nothing’s real…
nothing’s real anymore?
I tried finding love online,
but every “forever” breaks by dawn.
Sweet words come and go like lies,
leaving echoes when they’re gone.
Feels like everyone’s controlled
by a world inside their screens—
And I’m the only one left here
still searching for something clean.
I’m a ghost in the crowd,
fading out, fading out—
Searching for love in a world
where love is just a filter now.
I’m a heartbeat too real
for a world that’s shut down—
Tell me, who do I trust
when every “love” is just online
and nothing’s real…
nothing’s real anymore?
Dec 5, 2025
Dec 5, 2025 at 7:26 AM UTC
I try to paint you,
but the canvas becomes a tomb—
swallowing every color
because it knows
you were never meant to stay.
My brush shivers
like a heart on its last hope—
calling your face from the ashes,
yet every line melts
into a wound shaped like you.
How do I carve your light
from a night that keeps stealing you?
How do I hold your shadow
when even shadows abandon me?
You are the storm in my ribs—
a tender ruin,
a beautiful ache
that keeps breaking me open
just to remind me I once loved.
Still I chase you—
through silence, through darkness—
believing that if my longing burns bright enough,
you might slip back into my hands
like a miracle I was never meant to keep.
Nov 27, 2025
Nov 27, 2025 at 4:14 AM UTC
We were two matchsticks in a single box,
Born side by side in silence and dust.
Made to spark only when the other ignites,
Destined to burn together, or not at all.
Each time our flames met, the world disappeared—
Just your glow and mine, trembling in the dark.
We knew the fire would someday finish us,
But still we chose the beautiful ruin.
For lovers like us are not meant to last—
We burn to give light, not to survive.
Two hearts turning slowly into ash,
Yet holding hands until the very end.
Nov 25, 2025
Nov 25, 2025 at 4:51 AM UTC
Come See What’s Left of Me
A love once warm, now cold as stone,
I walk a road, but all alone.
The world moves on, but I stand still,
Carrying love I always will.
You never saw the tears I hide,
The empty nights I’ve cried inside.
If you returned, you’d truly see
How heartbreak shapes what’s left of me.
The dreams we built have turned to air,
Yet I still hold them, unaware
Of how to heal, or how to be—
Without you here, without us “we.”
So come, just once, and lift the veil,
See how I break, how I turn pale.
Then you will know, then you will see
What loving you has done to me.
Nov 25, 2025
Nov 25, 2025 at 4:38 AM UTC