Proseandpoetry Stories

[ prose/poetry ] i can't help but pull the earth around me / to make my bed

❝ 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒎 𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔 , ; What is heaven to me without you ? Where on earth shall I be, if not with you ? ❝ 𝑺𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒂...

Monachopsis : (noun) The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place. Prose & Poetry. © eujeana- # 1 in proseandpoetry # 1 in worthlessness

in which cosmos meets nostalgia, and together they discover the unknown world.

A lyrical conveyance of my personal journey, weaving prose and poetry that shaped the brave-soul I made myself to be today.

{Poetry} ✦✦✦ "𝗖𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁, 𝗰𝗼𝗯𝗯𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘁𝘀, 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗺𝗲𝗲𝘁. 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗼𝗮𝗱𝘀, 𝗰𝗹...

Poetry

20th book of poetry and prose. *** The people around me - they're voices that sing to one another, but mine? But mine is a loud silent scream. My brain working on a diff...

Words can plant gardens or burn whole forests down. Poems are nothing but the manifestations of how one thinks about something mixed with extraordinary emotions. Her nam...

orsa - (n.) words; utterance

"i doubt it's more than just platonic for you." a partial sequel to one of shakespeares' most resplendent plays.

[ poetry/prose ] tell me, what do you wish for? ranks: #9 in poetry

As two sides of the same coin we could not see each other but we were destinated to be together. I could not take any more risks; she had been too close to the truth. It...

•POETRY 'Stop searching for forever what's lost is the present'

This is an anthology of reflections, views and thoughts of the author through prose and poetry.

...words and remedy How did you ever find me?

when the world is quiet and you can hear my thoughts-there'd be just your understanding, patience, and love? [COMPLETE ✔️]

This is an anthology of reflections, views and thoughts of the author through prose and poetry.

Nobody who is in love should be deemed completely sad. Unreturned love is not without its rainbow. You will never give up searching for love if the people who are suppos...

Silence can be rather loud. I write with bruised knuckles and broken bones; a hoarse throat and unshackled lips. This is my 17th collection. A journey that started Janua...