My words are my mirror

"Love me like you do....." ⭑꙳⭑⚜️🖤⚜️⭑꙳⭑

[butterfly-poetry]

250 coups de cœur !

[butterfly-poetry]

Butterflies in the stomach .....🦋🦋🦋

Give me butterflies in my stomach,

Light shivers like wandering feathers,

Let every heartbeat be a dance,

And every breath an adventure to undertake.

Take me on the waves of emotion,

On the secret paths of passion,

Where words are lost and found again,

In the gentle echo of a love that listens.

Give me butterflies, cascading stars,

In the sky of our eyes where everything is hidden,

Suspended moments, distraught laughter,

Moments of happiness, of pure gratitude.

Let me touch the softness of your skin,

Like a caress in the moonlight,

May every moment spent with you be an opportunity

To taste life's intoxicating infinity.

Give me butterflies, shivers of intoxication,

In the intoxication of the moment, in tenderness,

For in your arms I find balance,

And every beat of my heart capsizes.

Give me butterflies, flashes of light,

On this senseless journey where our souls are set free,

No matter the torments, no matter the headwinds,

In your arms, I am whole at last.

© Myriam Ghezaïl Ben Brahim ❤️🥀

30th March 2024

Photo Pinterest and Tumblr

[stocky2016]

You are exactly, the Poem I wanted to write

I'm an amateur poet always on the look out

for an interesting angle for my subjects

My pen's shaking in excited anticipation

I yearn for the enigmatic

to tease out reaction and opinion

but then I choose just you

for my personal and spontaneous attention.

You are the poem I need, and about whom I want to write

but do I have have the sensual vocabulary to capture you

I need "figurative" rather than "literal" imagery

to uncovers and portray the soul who*s uniquely you.

My diction and grammar need to be imaginative

in order to properly reflect your multfacsted personality

Your eccentricities, which I love with a propensity.

"Poetic licence" gives me more latitude to explore

Your hidden but subtly obvious charms.

The Fact that your beauty and attraction is unsyoassed

confirms all possible rivals are totally outclassed.

To become my poem is down to me me to facilitate

an articulation of beauty I have to create,

your smile and presence just a natural effervescence.

Once I have the words in my poetry-tool-bag

the lines will take care of themselves and in no way flag

the language and ideas will dedicate themselves to just you

they will then flow in rhythm and suck a rhythm, phew!

A little rhyme here and there I will not spare

to structure the shape and versification

all serving to hallmark the final portrait reflection.

G.P.S. 13th February 2924

Graphics personally owned.

[butterfly-poetry]

Love you @stocky2016 😘💞

[upadan]

[lunadiluana-deactivated20240729]

“One smile can start a friendship. One. word can end a fight. One look can save a relationship. One person can change your life.”

[infinitelyhisgirl]

꧁🖤꧂

[she-is-the-poem-inspired-deacti]

Many get lost, lust has that way to persuade

But a kiss is the equalizer, not even lust can invade

To share a kiss, is nonverbal to say, it is you that I want, in every single way

Press you lips to mine, and you heal my soul, but once you, know my heart will never let go

The thrusts of our bodies, at times gentle, and others like we are torn away

But mental fornication is the displacement created of her first kiss, and without it, how can I go on, or even exist

[butterfly-poetry]

LIVING MARBLE DOLL

In a secret, bright garden,

Lies a doll, carved of marble,

With long white hair

Her delicate features are frozen in time,

Attracting glances, moving passers-by.

But what's going on? A moonbeam,

Lights up the statue and in the brown night,

The doll comes to life, shivering softly,

Freeing herself at last from her touching spell.

Her glass eyes open, eyes of an ancient soul,

Filled with melancholy and strange human warmth,

She wanders the garden, discovering the universe,

Like a child astonished by her first winter.

The marble doll, now alive,

Seeks to understand this enchanting world,

She explores, amazed, every sensation,

Every breath of wind, every new expression.

Roses blush, birds sing,

And the doll contemplates, silently, all this singing life,

She knows she's unique, a fleeting wonder,

But in the hearts of men, she will leave a light.

For the marble doll, alive for a time,

Will inspire hearts, bring happiness to all lovers,

She'll dance under the moon, dream under the stars,

Before returning, one day, to her crystal sleep.

Thus, in this secret garden, between reality and enchantment,

The living marble doll, mythical enchantment,

Reminds men of the magic of believing in the impossible,

And the power of dreams, even the most improbable.

© Myriam Ghezaïl Ben Brahim ❤️🥀

10th February 2024

Picture from : Marie Harris

[upadan]

[lunadiluana-deactivated20240729]

“One smile can start a friendship. One. word can end a fight. One look can save a relationship. One person can change your life.”

[astriloquum]

[missinyouiskillingme]

Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences.

— Emery Allen

[butterfly-poetry]

You've helped me understand Why poets often compare Being in love to dying. With you, I forget to breathe; Without you, I cannot breathe.

D. Deane

[sweet-love-fragrance-deactivate]

Talvez eu quebre muito a minha cara ainda.

Mas é um alívio saber que eu sempre fui verdadeira com todos que passaram pela minha vida.

Uma pena que nem sempre foi recíproco.

Via Fraselizou

[butterfly-poetry]

Maybe I'll break my face a lot yet.

But it's a relief to know that I've always been true to everyone who's passed through my life.

Too bad it wasn't always reciprocated.

Via Fraselizou

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— diksha suman (moon poet)

[butterfly-poetry]

❤️❤️❤️❤️(⁠๑⁠˙⁠❥⁠˙⁠๑⁠)❤️❤️❤️❤️

[ombre-ame]

“I buried the girl I had been because she ran into all kinds of trouble. I tried to erase every memory of her, but she is still there, somewhere. She is still small and scared and ashamed, and perhaps I am writing my way back to her, trying to tell her everything she needs to hear.”

Hunger: A Memoir of (My) Body, by Roxane Gay

@ombre-ame

[butterfly-poetry]

@creatively-spirited-cam

@lijanaa

@lunadiluana

@stocky2016

@mademoiselle-rose-things

@mazeus2018

@thebearinsideme

@angeltuyo

@graceful-woman

@waiting-eyez

@intensely-scented-flower

@sweet-love-fragrance

@maximum-22

[butterfly-poetry]

One day, maybe

One day, maybe, I'll be...

The woman I want to be

But first I need to know

What I want her to look like

This woman

A poet

Certainly

Who always puts her heart and soul

In her poems and ditties

And writes all the time, alone, in the dark

Without her pen, what is she

This woman

She's a bird without wings

A flower without perfume

Without her pen, what is she

What is she

A bird without wings

A flower without perfume

But other than that, this woman

What would she look like

If we took away her keyboard

Her words, rhymes and verses

She's lost

She has nothing, she feels naked

Empty

What else could she do, what else could she do

This woman

It's a mystery she must unravel

Without her pen, what is she

This woman

She's a bird without wings

A flower without perfume

Without her feather, what is she

What is she

A bird without wings

A flower without perfume

One day, maybe, I'll be...

The woman I want to be

Who expresses herself aloud

As she knows how to write

Maybe

That woman, she

She

I'll come to love her

Maybe I could love what she says

Whether it's in writing or out loud

Maybe one day I'll be...

The woman I want to be

And maybe I could even love her

Without her pen, what is she

This woman

She's a bird without wings

A flower without perfume

Without her feather, what is she

What is she

A bird without wings

A flower without perfume

© Myriam Ghezaïl Ben Brahim ❤️🥀

10th February 2024

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

"When it’s over, leave. Don’t continue watering a dead flower." - Unknown

[butterfly-poetry]

Spied on, observed, analyzed by the universe that has put us here, without instructions.

Lost in this labyrinth of gray, icy, disquieting walls, but paved with bright hopes where the muffled footsteps of intoxicating euphoria echo.

A riddle to be solved with the few clues he carelessly leaves at the bend of a choice, at the foot of this statue petrified of having dared to escape.

He has a plan, but won't reveal it until this quest for self is complete, until the blindfold of ignorance obscures the glimmer in our eyes, until the road chosen at the crossroads of decisions ends in a dead end.

This universe, allied to the impetuosity of the elements, is certainly not maternal, jostling us with intent to gauge our determination, instilling fire and ice on this windswept earth.

A wind of madness, gentle or furious, a traveling wind, sirocco or blizzard, an uncompromising wind, which annihilates or fecundates, a wind blowing on our souls as they question themselves in this maze, searching for a meaning to give to their wanderings.

I've seen some sitting on a bench, having given up and wept, others confident, rushing headlong, crashing at the first bend, some reflecting before cautiously taking off, and those, the carefree, who let themselves be carried nonchalantly by these winds, riding their destiny without doubting their destination.

This is undoubtedly the famous plan, to help us discover who we are,

To take the time to stop and cry for a moment, and then to set off again, taming the winds in this intoxicating rodeo.

And the universe winks.

© Myriam Ghezaïl Ben Brahim ❤️🥀

5th February 2024

Work by: Skaviński

[cheruib]

that comment about how you should not borrow grief from the future has saved me multiple times from spiraling into an inescapable state of anxiety. like every time i find myself thinking about how something in the future could go wrong i remember that comment and i think to myself: well i never know, it might get better. it might not even happen the way i think it will and if it does happen and it is sad and bad ill be sad about it then, when it happens. and it’s somehow soo freeing

[butterfly-poetry]

@cheruib thank you so much ❤️❤️

So beautiful ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️