#poetslife

[jaggedjawjosh]

They never told me that strength blooms quietly, in moments between struggle and hope, where the heart whispers softly, "These scars weave resilience.

[happysops]

A melody drifts— like leaves tumbling slowly through the quiet woods of Eterna Forest, where sunlight once danced on my skin, and shadows held the secrets of afternoons that never ended. Floaroma’s breeze still carries the scent of wildflowers— lavender, mint, honey— and faint laughter from long ago, echoing like a lullaby from a time when the world felt wide and full of wonder. I close my eyes— and there you are, my younger self, small and wide-eyed, lost in the glow of a screen, the music wrapping around you like a faded sweater you never wanted to take off. The notes fall gently, soft as rain on old leaves, whispering you are safe here, you are enough, and somehow, I can almost feel the warmth of those moments breathing back into me— a bittersweet comfort carried across the years, like a secret shared between then and now.

s.m.p., whispers from Eterna Forest

[paulrkohn]

Mental Health Awareness Month - May 22 prompt thanks to @elenaspoetry on Instagram.

Prompt Falling in love with the feeling of being alive

I am learning to fall in love with the feeling of being alive;

of stepping into the day instead of wanting to escape it.

I am learning healing isn’t about becoming someone new,

but remembering that you are never meant to feel numb.

I am learning to be aware of my own internal surroundings;

my pulse now resonating like music instead of survival.

I am learning to see the positive in external surroundings;

the beauty found in silver-lined clouds despite the storm.

Because life isn’t always easy, predictable, or smooth,

and it is in the randomness where life is truly discovered;

where we learn to fall in love with the feeling of being alive.

.

.

Thank you for reading my words. I hope they help and heal you as much as they do, me

.

Image: Canva

[mystique-moonflower]

Although

It feels good to love a human for once.

I wake up on days end, hallowed in nightmares

And a dream sleeps by my side.

Mornings and showers don’t scare me anymore,

In sleep I salvage.

The horrors continue to leave their trail,

But I’ve been teep toeing around them,

Maybe this time I’ll find home

The end of this road is a flaming hope.

I wake up —

And I finally wake up.

[sophie-t]

//New Aquarelle painting created in Berlin, it’s just so lovely to be here and soaking up the vibe. Painting is called ‘See clearly’ love always Sophie-T xxx

[umabokil]

I have made space for myself between your bones. I hope you don’t mind.

[toomagazineperfection]

The disposition of a poem beauty.

I was a phone of asking madness and an ask was a. Loving theory in the nodes of a love kind and a sea of her nose. She was breathing intelligence and a fate of love and a man of sea. He died in me. I was the seed in me. I was asking con artist and a caricature formed and sea is beauty and a love is him. I write. I was beauty. I was intelligence. I was speaking to be. I was. Loving to be. I was alive. I was water. I was him I was sand. I was God of hymn. I was marrying him. I was him. I was mint of reflection of me, to judge heart survival rate and a dense blue moon, ma. I was dying ma. I was loving it. He moved and gasped and he was seeing me. I was beauty and seeing him compliment my body. I moved to him. He saw me an ack of wicked and beautiful. I was love in the ocean and he asked a cheat of me. Neni. And I. I was absconding intelligence. I was air. I was treating me. Right.

I was him. Sunidhi.

[thisisreshma]

   — Ocean Vuong, Reasons for Staying