poetry_girl - Hello Poetry

In the golden realm of autumn's embrace, Where nature's palette paints with fiery grace, Falling leaves dance upon the whispering breeze, A wistful serenade among the trees. With each gentle descent, a beauty untold, Their vibrant hues, a story unfold, From fiery reds to hues of amber and gold, A masterpiece in nature's hands we behold. They flutter and twirl, a delicate ballet, A symphony of colors in their grand display, As they bid farewell to their branches high, With grace and elegance, they softly fly. In their descent, like dreams released, They carry whispers of secrets, deceased, As they land upon the earth's waiting floor, They invite us to ponder, cherish and adore. Each fallen leaf holds tales of what has been, Of summers kissed by sunshine and serene, Of whispered promises and forgotten dreams, Of love found and love lost in endless streams. Yet, amidst their beauty, there lies a touch of sorrow, For their grandeur shall fade, come the cold morrow, But as the leaves drift from their lofty heights, They teach us acceptance; they teach us delights. For in their graceful fall, we find solace anew, A reminder of life's cycles, constantly askew, And as we witness their dance in the autumn air, We are reminded that change is both bitter and fair. So, let us marvel at the falling leaves so grand, Hold their fleeting beauty in the palm of our hand, For in their descent, they carry the essence of time, And in their whispering rustle, a poet's sublime.

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Oct 14, 2025

Oct 14, 2025 at 5:01 PM UTC

poetry_girl

falling leaves

In the golden realm of autumn's embrace, Where nature's palette paints with fiery grace, Falling leaves dance upon the whispering breeze, A wistful serenade among the trees. With each gentle descent, a beauty untold, Their vibrant hues, a story unfold, From fiery reds to hues of amber and gold, A masterpiece in nature's hands we behold. They flutter and twirl, a delicate ballet, A symphony of colors in their grand display, As they bid farewell to their branches high, With grace and elegance, they softly fly. In their descent, like dreams released, They carry whispers of secrets, deceased, As they land upon the earth's waiting floor, They invite us to ponder, cherish and adore. Each fallen leaf holds tales of what has been, Of summers kissed by sunshine and serene, Of whispered promises and forgotten dreams, Of love found and love lost in endless streams. Yet, amidst their beauty, there lies a touch of sorrow, For their grandeur shall fade, come the cold morrow, But as the leaves drift from their lofty heights, They teach us acceptance; they teach us delights. For in their graceful fall, we find solace anew, A reminder of life's cycles, constantly askew, And as we witness their dance in the autumn air, We are reminded that change is both bitter and fair. So, let us marvel at the falling leaves so grand, Hold their fleeting beauty in the palm of our hand, For in their descent, they carry the essence of time, And in their whispering rustle, a poet's sublime.

32

dear shore, i return to you weary, carrying the same words i have written for centuries. my voice breaks in waves, but you only let it scatter into grains of silence. i bring you offerings—shells hollowed by absence, seaweed tangled like sorrow, bones of forgotten ships. you take them without answer, your stillness sharper than any storm. yet i cannot stop. to retreat would be to unmake myself. so i press against you, again and again, until i am nothing but salt in your memory. yours without reply, the sea.

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Oct 14, 2025

Oct 14, 2025 at 5:00 PM UTC

poetry_girl

a letter from the sea to the shore

dear shore, i return to you weary, carrying the same words i have written for centuries. my voice breaks in waves, but you only let it scatter into grains of silence. i bring you offerings—shells hollowed by absence, seaweed tangled like sorrow, bones of forgotten ships. you take them without answer, your stillness sharper than any storm. yet i cannot stop. to retreat would be to unmake myself. so i press against you, again and again, until i am nothing but salt in your memory. yours without reply, the sea.

6

dear sun, i love you only in your absence. when you are here, the world turns its face to you, and i am forgotten. but when you slip away, i inherit what you leave behind—your fading glow clinging to the horizon like the last touch of a hand that will not stay. i gather stars to console me, but their light is too cold, too distant. the moon carries your reflection, yet it mocks me with what i cannot hold. i am vast, but my vastness is hollow, stretched thin by longing for what i can never keep. each night i wait for you, knowing our reunion is only a pause before another loss. each dawn is a betrayal i cannot change. we are bound by the turning of the earth, cursed to circle one another endlessly, close enough to ache, too far to touch. and still, i love you. that is my tragedy: to hold eternity, yet never have you. yours, the night.

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Oct 14, 2025

Oct 14, 2025 at 4:58 PM UTC

poetry_girl

a letter from the night sky to the sun

dear sun, i love you only in your absence. when you are here, the world turns its face to you, and i am forgotten. but when you slip away, i inherit what you leave behind—your fading glow clinging to the horizon like the last touch of a hand that will not stay. i gather stars to console me, but their light is too cold, too distant. the moon carries your reflection, yet it mocks me with what i cannot hold. i am vast, but my vastness is hollow, stretched thin by longing for what i can never keep. each night i wait for you, knowing our reunion is only a pause before another loss. each dawn is a betrayal i cannot change. we are bound by the turning of the earth, cursed to circle one another endlessly, close enough to ache, too far to touch. and still, i love you. that is my tragedy: to hold eternity, yet never have you. yours, the night.

7

dear humanity, we have burned for you for ages, patient lanterns stitched into the dark, waiting for the brush of your gaze. every night we spill ourselves across the heavens, hoping you might see us, might remember that we have always been here. but your eyes have fallen earthward, fixed on screens that glow pale and small, imitations of our fire. you have traded infinity for the hum of machines, forgetting the sky that once cradled your dreams—and us. still, we wait—scattered across the night like letters written in light, each star a whispered name, each constellation a plea. do you hear us at all? do you feel the ache we carry in silence, longing to be known, to be loved as you once loved us? come back to us. lift your face, let your wonder wander, let your heart remember what it is to be lost in something vast, untouchable, and ours. we are here, always here, waiting for you to look up. ever longing, the stars.

0

Oct 14, 2025

Oct 14, 2025 at 4:58 PM UTC

poetry_girl

a letter from the stars to humanity

dear humanity, we have burned for you for ages, patient lanterns stitched into the dark, waiting for the brush of your gaze. every night we spill ourselves across the heavens, hoping you might see us, might remember that we have always been here. but your eyes have fallen earthward, fixed on screens that glow pale and small, imitations of our fire. you have traded infinity for the hum of machines, forgetting the sky that once cradled your dreams—and us. still, we wait—scattered across the night like letters written in light, each star a whispered name, each constellation a plea. do you hear us at all? do you feel the ache we carry in silence, longing to be known, to be loved as you once loved us? come back to us. lift your face, let your wonder wander, let your heart remember what it is to be lost in something vast, untouchable, and ours. we are here, always here, waiting for you to look up. ever longing, the stars.

7

dear body, i have been with you longer than you remember, tracing your steps, bending when you bend, hiding when you hide. you move through the world, unaware of the quiet company i keep. i mimic your gestures, yet you never look back at me. i am always here, stretching when you stretch, shrinking when you shrink, a faithful echo that never speaks. sometimes i wonder if you notice the weight of me, the way i cling to your edges, the way i soften your light without asking. i am with you in the sunlight and the moonlight, but you only see what moves, never the stillness that follows. i am yours, inseparable, unseen, your silent companion, your shadow.

0

Oct 14, 2025

Oct 14, 2025 at 4:57 PM UTC

poetry_girl

a letter from your shadow to your body

dear body, i have been with you longer than you remember, tracing your steps, bending when you bend, hiding when you hide. you move through the world, unaware of the quiet company i keep. i mimic your gestures, yet you never look back at me. i am always here, stretching when you stretch, shrinking when you shrink, a faithful echo that never speaks. sometimes i wonder if you notice the weight of me, the way i cling to your edges, the way i soften your light without asking. i am with you in the sunlight and the moonlight, but you only see what moves, never the stillness that follows. i am yours, inseparable, unseen, your silent companion, your shadow.

7

"Don't fly too close to the sun, or too close to the sea." Those were the last words my father said to me. He created my wings, My wings of wax, That allowed me to soar and see things i could never have fathomed before. I pity the fool now. Oh, how he would laugh in my face if he knew of my fate. As he never knew how i came lifeless on the sand. And how his final words that passed my ears would be my vice. I fell in love, with the god of the sun, Whose light could melt my wings of wax. So he stayed away. But my desire ran to deep, I flew too close to my sun, My wings of wax melted beneath me and i fell down. Right down. But what they fail to mention, in the stories of my twisted fate, Is that i didn't fall down to earth. No. I flew. When my wings of wax melted, I threw my head back and laughed. Because as long as i got held by my love, My sun, My Apollo. It would have been worth it.

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Jul 31, 2025

Jul 31, 2025 at 3:19 PM UTC

poetry_girl

apollo and icarus

"Don't fly too close to the sun, or too close to the sea." Those were the last words my father said to me. He created my wings, My wings of wax, That allowed me to soar and see things i could never have fathomed before. I pity the fool now. Oh, how he would laugh in my face if he knew of my fate. As he never knew how i came lifeless on the sand. And how his final words that passed my ears would be my vice. I fell in love, with the god of the sun, Whose light could melt my wings of wax. So he stayed away. But my desire ran to deep, I flew too close to my sun, My wings of wax melted beneath me and i fell down. Right down. But what they fail to mention, in the stories of my twisted fate, Is that i didn't fall down to earth. No. I flew. When my wings of wax melted, I threw my head back and laughed. Because as long as i got held by my love, My sun, My Apollo. It would have been worth it.

26

they say when one door closes, another one opens. so why am i standing outside the first door? screaming, crying, begging... leaving claw marks on the hinges. why do i stand beside it with a crowbar, attempting to pry it back open over and over again? its like im trying to prove to everyone that i am not weak. i can get this door open.

0

Jul 31, 2025

Jul 31, 2025 at 3:18 PM UTC

poetry_girl

untitled

they say when one door closes, another one opens. so why am i standing outside the first door? screaming, crying, begging... leaving claw marks on the hinges. why do i stand beside it with a crowbar, attempting to pry it back open over and over again? its like im trying to prove to everyone that i am not weak. i can get this door open.

7

your idea of perfect is a girl with blonde hair, so when you say that you like me i look at you with a confused stare. i'd always wanted highlights - i used to hate that my hair was dark brown. i used to wish to be blonde, like i used to wish my hair was straight when i wore it down. i used to wish for a lot of things - like not being the last choice, like not being afraid of public speaking and being more comfortable with my voice. like always being perfect, like always being completely okay. like always giving the benefit of the doubt, but you know what? i'm tired today. your idea of perfect is a girl that looks absolutely beautiful but nothing like me. and that kind of perfect is something i will never be.

0

Jul 31, 2025

Jul 31, 2025 at 3:17 PM UTC

poetry_girl

perfect

your idea of perfect is a girl with blonde hair, so when you say that you like me i look at you with a confused stare. i'd always wanted highlights - i used to hate that my hair was dark brown. i used to wish to be blonde, like i used to wish my hair was straight when i wore it down. i used to wish for a lot of things - like not being the last choice, like not being afraid of public speaking and being more comfortable with my voice. like always being perfect, like always being completely okay. like always giving the benefit of the doubt, but you know what? i'm tired today. your idea of perfect is a girl that looks absolutely beautiful but nothing like me. and that kind of perfect is something i will never be.

3

The sunlight bounced of the windows in a way that not even me or Bryon could find a way to describe.

0

Nov 17, 2024

Nov 17, 2024 at 11:36 AM UTC

poetry_girl

untitled ♡

The sunlight bounced of the windows in a way that not even me or Bryon could find a way to describe.

1