_L3NA__ - Hello Poetry

My heart still jumps Every time I see you. I wish it wouldn’t. I wish I could control it. I wish you would leave my mind, But you still take The most space in it. I’m still in love with you. And I’ve seen it — Something in your eyes That feels the same. But tell me… Are you in love with me?

0

_L3NA__

May 8

May 8, 2026 at 10:06 AM UTC

Mateja

Still

My heart still jumps Every time I see you. I wish it wouldn’t. I wish I could control it. I wish you would leave my mind, But you still take The most space in it. I’m still in love with you. And I’ve seen it — Something in your eyes That feels the same. But tell me… Are you in love with me?

13

Everybody talks about the morning after you take your life, but nobody talks about the days that led up to it. The cries for help that were written in between the lines of your silence and attitude. No one can say there weren't signs because they were there, but they were brushed off as normal teenage angst. Your attempt at reaching out was fruitless; your attempt gained no success whatsoever. You felt as if you were trying to flag down a taxi on a highway that never sleeps. It's not like they didn't care, They just didn't care enough to slow down on the freeway of their lives. Leaving you in the rearview mirror without a second thought about your plans, about your thoughts, about the letters you had written, about the nights you spent crying, wishing someone would notice your struggles. And now the people who were too busy to care are all in a traffic jam on the freeway they chose to take. The life they all had taken for granted was gone. The people who had been too busy to care, became cemented in place because of a wreck that they could have stopped. They were mourning a death they could have prevented.

0

May 8

May 8, 2026 at 10:04 AM UTC

_L3NA__

The freeway of life

Everybody talks about the morning after you take your life, but nobody talks about the days that led up to it. The cries for help that were written in between the lines of your silence and attitude. No one can say there weren't signs because they were there, but they were brushed off as normal teenage angst. Your attempt at reaching out was fruitless; your attempt gained no success whatsoever. You felt as if you were trying to flag down a taxi on a highway that never sleeps. It's not like they didn't care, They just didn't care enough to slow down on the freeway of their lives. Leaving you in the rearview mirror without a second thought about your plans, about your thoughts, about the letters you had written, about the nights you spent crying, wishing someone would notice your struggles. And now the people who were too busy to care are all in a traffic jam on the freeway they chose to take. The life they all had taken for granted was gone. The people who had been too busy to care, became cemented in place because of a wreck that they could have stopped. They were mourning a death they could have prevented.

10

Fire teaches me, within the flame there is life. Life can burn you out.

0

_L3NA__

May 8

May 8, 2026 at 4:08 AM UTC

lynn-stillman

Flame

Fire teaches me, within the flame there is life. Life can burn you out.

3

The rain is mourning the remnants of a collapsed love between two whose love belonged to the memories and the illusion of who they painted the other as. You were a sunrise on a snow-filled break in darkness. A sunrise in the sharp and nipping cold. Your love shown through the ice crystals that surrounded my heart, your beauty was fragile and angelic-like, similar to rays of light that were capable of melting even the thickest of ice. And you, too, managed to melt the ice that enveloped my heart with the love gleaming in your eyes when you looked at me, as if I were the only girl in the world. The love in your eyes contrasted with the frost that was a constant in my mind. We were both still growing into our awkward teenage frames. We were like freshly planted saplings trying to survive in a storm of wintry fury. We were too weak to fight the biting cold, too green to fight how the wind would shape us. We were trying to grow in the wrong season, fighting battles that we couldn't name. Yet, with all the hardships and challenges that are in this life, we added love, and love is a complex emotion, meant to be handled with care, but the storm in each of our own minds gave us little space for the love we started. Our roots tangled, and neither of us could untangle them. Your words fell harshly, like hailstones, sudden and bitingly cold, Falling harder than I could've ever prepared for. But I, too, was a wispy cloud filled heavy with unshed rain, and when my lips parted to speak, my words were a flood of emotion. Sweeping away every treasured memory in our path. We tried to speak, but neither of us knew the language of apologies. Even if we did, no amount of apologies could erase both of our harsh words, raining down on the pages of us, smudging the ink, and staining the paper. I can't stress enough how it feels living in a storm of my own faults, my mind a hurricane; a whirlwind of emotions caused by my failures. Each morning was like climbing a mountain, the steep kind. The kind that is built on rocks that slide under too much pressure. My mind was filled with a thick mist of fog that clung to me. The kind words of the people I love so dearly couldn't even shine through the fog that clouded my mind. There are days I can’t even rise from bed, the high standard of my own expectations; of the envy to be like other girls; is held to press me down like an autumn leaf getting beaten down onto the pavement by the cruel winds and rain. I searched, and I searched, for the dazzling light of the sun that was your love, but all I saw was a world fuzzy with rain. I wanted to reach for you, but I was drowning in the twisted and torrential waters of my emotions. In the end, we both became a whirlwind of toxic and complicated emotions. The love we both “had” fueled the downfall of our history. Soon enough, we both became remnants of a storm that raged far too long. Your once snowy shores that were lined with frost that dazzled in the light were left frozen, desolate, and stormy. The wind was mourning the loss of love and life, the volume of the howls of wind showed its grievances. The Wind was Mourning The wind was mourning the hopeless fools head over heels for “each other”, and wondering how a harmless young love turned into a storm that devastated both parties in the young love. . The sand that witnessed the full story of us was embedded underneath thick layers of ice and snow. The warmth of the sun that represented your love was long gone. You, now a shell of the person you used to be, always wielding a smile that shone none brighter than the sun, was also long gone. The love in your eyes when you looked at me was replaced with a look of hatred. But your expression faltered, the hatred in your eyes slowly cracked, forming into hurt. And just like that, with a moment's worth of eye contact, the hatred shifted into hurt. Like how snow turns brittle under too much weight, your expression cracked, revealing the hurt underneath the hatred, under the weight of my gaze. But I didn't come out unscathed; that wouldn't have been possible. The whispers of “what if” seemed to echo in the winds. Every time I went back to our beach, I saw just how destructive we were. I became lost in fantasies, fantasies about what we could have been. But every "could've" that crossed my mind, had a shiver wracking through my body; we were both too cold, our icy hearts prickled at even the slightest emotion. We were both too broken to figure out how to bring back the warmth of each other's embrace. It was as if nature was mocking my loss, but that's impossible. Because if the wind and the rain were mourning, surely nature was too, right? Right. Mother Nature was mourning Mother Nature was mourning the burden of everyone.

0

May 6

May 6, 2026 at 9:23 AM UTC

_L3NA__

The rain is mourning,

The rain is mourning the remnants of a collapsed love between two whose love belonged to the memories and the illusion of who they painted the other as. You were a sunrise on a snow-filled break in darkness. A sunrise in the sharp and nipping cold. Your love shown through the ice crystals that surrounded my heart, your beauty was fragile and angelic-like, similar to rays of light that were capable of melting even the thickest of ice. And you, too, managed to melt the ice that enveloped my heart with the love gleaming in your eyes when you looked at me, as if I were the only girl in the world. The love in your eyes contrasted with the frost that was a constant in my mind. We were both still growing into our awkward teenage frames. We were like freshly planted saplings trying to survive in a storm of wintry fury. We were too weak to fight the biting cold, too green to fight how the wind would shape us. We were trying to grow in the wrong season, fighting battles that we couldn't name. Yet, with all the hardships and challenges that are in this life, we added love, and love is a complex emotion, meant to be handled with care, but the storm in each of our own minds gave us little space for the love we started. Our roots tangled, and neither of us could untangle them. Your words fell harshly, like hailstones, sudden and bitingly cold, Falling harder than I could've ever prepared for. But I, too, was a wispy cloud filled heavy with unshed rain, and when my lips parted to speak, my words were a flood of emotion. Sweeping away every treasured memory in our path. We tried to speak, but neither of us knew the language of apologies. Even if we did, no amount of apologies could erase both of our harsh words, raining down on the pages of us, smudging the ink, and staining the paper. I can't stress enough how it feels living in a storm of my own faults, my mind a hurricane; a whirlwind of emotions caused by my failures. Each morning was like climbing a mountain, the steep kind. The kind that is built on rocks that slide under too much pressure. My mind was filled with a thick mist of fog that clung to me. The kind words of the people I love so dearly couldn't even shine through the fog that clouded my mind. There are days I can’t even rise from bed, the high standard of my own expectations; of the envy to be like other girls; is held to press me down like an autumn leaf getting beaten down onto the pavement by the cruel winds and rain. I searched, and I searched, for the dazzling light of the sun that was your love, but all I saw was a world fuzzy with rain. I wanted to reach for you, but I was drowning in the twisted and torrential waters of my emotions. In the end, we both became a whirlwind of toxic and complicated emotions. The love we both “had” fueled the downfall of our history. Soon enough, we both became remnants of a storm that raged far too long. Your once snowy shores that were lined with frost that dazzled in the light were left frozen, desolate, and stormy. The wind was mourning the loss of love and life, the volume of the howls of wind showed its grievances. The Wind was Mourning The wind was mourning the hopeless fools head over heels for “each other”, and wondering how a harmless young love turned into a storm that devastated both parties in the young love. . The sand that witnessed the full story of us was embedded underneath thick layers of ice and snow. The warmth of the sun that represented your love was long gone. You, now a shell of the person you used to be, always wielding a smile that shone none brighter than the sun, was also long gone. The love in your eyes when you looked at me was replaced with a look of hatred. But your expression faltered, the hatred in your eyes slowly cracked, forming into hurt. And just like that, with a moment's worth of eye contact, the hatred shifted into hurt. Like how snow turns brittle under too much weight, your expression cracked, revealing the hurt underneath the hatred, under the weight of my gaze. But I didn't come out unscathed; that wouldn't have been possible. The whispers of “what if” seemed to echo in the winds. Every time I went back to our beach, I saw just how destructive we were. I became lost in fantasies, fantasies about what we could have been. But every "could've" that crossed my mind, had a shiver wracking through my body; we were both too cold, our icy hearts prickled at even the slightest emotion. We were both too broken to figure out how to bring back the warmth of each other's embrace. It was as if nature was mocking my loss, but that's impossible. Because if the wind and the rain were mourning, surely nature was too, right? Right. Mother Nature was mourning Mother Nature was mourning the burden of everyone.

32

i wear a shell casing of a crucifix look cedar waxwings ricocheting through sumac, yellow eyes loose in chokeweed one long fever feathering south through the pines a tight orbit at the vocal cords mockingbird’s static circling its own ruin, all fracture and recoil cracked and limbless wings burst and break while snow lions stutter cinched to famished maples bare in the winter, shivering rising, falling wind slept in the graveyard under a cold black star running down spilling over covering all the roads with red effluvium this crooked brass yours is the name carved in the chattering branches at the edge of the dark woods © 2026 IngaPink. All rights reserved.

0

_L3NA__

May 6

May 6, 2026 at 9:17 AM UTC

IngaPinkink

the failure radius

i wear a shell casing of a crucifix look cedar waxwings ricocheting through sumac, yellow eyes loose in chokeweed one long fever feathering south through the pines a tight orbit at the vocal cords mockingbird’s static circling its own ruin, all fracture and recoil cracked and limbless wings burst and break while snow lions stutter cinched to famished maples bare in the winter, shivering rising, falling wind slept in the graveyard under a cold black star running down spilling over covering all the roads with red effluvium this crooked brass yours is the name carved in the chattering branches at the edge of the dark woods © 2026 IngaPink. All rights reserved.

31