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Masi Roberto Sep 19
Scrivo perché l’anima  
non conosce silenzi,  
perché l’amore e il dolore  
diventano parole.  

I write because the soul  
cannot remain silent,  
because love and pain  
become words.  

Ogni verso è un cammino,  
ogni parola un respiro  
che cerca di incontrare  
cuori e occhi lontani.  

Each verse is a journey,  
each word a breath  
seeking to meet  
hearts and distant eyes.  

Se queste poesie parlano a te,  
sappi che il mio viaggio  
vive anche in libri  
che custodiscono le stesse voci.  

If these poems speak to you,  
know that my path  
also lives in books  
that guard the same voices.  

📖 Amazon – Roberto Masi  

*Masi Roberto © 2025
I found a love that felt like a fairy tale,
Full of sweet words that never seemed to fail.
But he became the one who hurt me most,
Now the pain feels like a heavy ghost.

I tried to hide the hurt deep inside,
Built up walls so I could safely hide.
But his memory is still always near,
Like a quiet voice I still can hear.

I say goodbye, but he won’t go,
He lives in every place I know.
And though I try to let him be,
Moving on feels impossible for me.
my extremities are bound to your mahogany desk - what seems to be your working space. for the first time they are rendered purposeless, just drifting in your current like a priceless tonic. heavy torrents out there but i can't hear them. i know no amount of downpour can water down the sinful scarlet we caught ourselves into. we're about to roam wild and free tonight, where only my mind could reach.

so you commanded me to be on all fours, leaving gaps between my lips:
"spit...
spit out poetry and banters into my mouth.
spit...
spit out bitter truth that is hard for the night to bear.
i'm all ears, but im not sure if my heart can take it."

with you, i become my own libertine.
Mira Aug 1
how terrible it is
to be a writer

write! they say
write and the time will come

but how must one
compete to the top

when the shelves are filled with
"NYC Bestseller"?

oh how miserable it is
to be a writer

and they say
write! it isn't difficult!
sigh, writing really is a struggle
alex Jul 22
Writers die young,
but those loved
by a writer
live forever —
through scrappy handwriting
on yellowing pages
of verse and prose
full of adoration,
unconditional love
from an old soul
with a heart too big
for their own good.
Thomas Castle May 14
anxiety strikes me like a sudden glucose spike. bloodstream is gushed with nothing but the thrill of a chase. the nerves though, not doing so well. my reality is going to be more distorted than usual.

when anxiety strikes, they don't knock on the door. they come with a bang, and hang in the air like an acoustic foam. you know, train of thoughts and stream of sounds can wander anywhere in the room, but seem futile to get across time and space. they can only travel so much in here, in a vacuumless vessel. a deafening silence, a chaos in a stillness, and i think it best describes it. i can look composed and pour you a glass of water, and i won't even realize if it overflows.

when anxiety leaves, i don't think you know it left. you would question its existence, why isn't it with you today.  it might feel like a weight being lifted up on your shoulder, but you don't feel any lighter. it feels heavier because of its disappearance. you are so used to its presence, because anxiety keeps you busy in your head. and when you finally have a moment of peace, you self-doubt yourself if you have stopped living your life.
written @17:44, 27th Feb
Zhanara Mar 29
My smile is a just mask to hide my pain
My smiles is a just beautiful emotion to ignore the sadness.
30.03.2025
Archer Mar 23
The Duality of Man,
may very well be
The Singularity of Man.
Zhanara Mar 5
If you respect me
I will take you the MOON.
If you disrespect me.
I will hate myself,
06.03.2025
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