Is 'Once A Dormant, Now Untouched' A Metaphor In Poetry?

Ronan Hale is the school’s golden boy… captain of the ice hockey team, talented, confident… and infuriatingly arrogant. After two years away, he’s back, but the glory on the ice can’t hide the fact that he’s failing every class. If he doesn’t pass, he could lose everything. The only person who can save him? Ivy Cross… the quiet, intelligent girl no one notices. She’s smart, strong, and completely unimpressed by his fame… which only makes him more frustrated, and somehow, more drawn to her. Tutoring him should be simple. It’s not. Every session sparks arguments, stolen glances, and tension neither can ignore. Beneath his arrogance, Ivy sees cracks in his walls.. pain, guilt, and secrets he’s desperate to hide. Hate turns to desire. Rivalry becomes something more. And for Ronan and Ivy, falling for each other might only be the beginning…

I had spent years paying for Damian Grant’s infertility in every way a woman could. Doctors, treatments, private clinics, and humiliation I swallowed in silence. Then, against every odd, I finally got pregnant. It was the child the Grant family had been waiting for. The miracle Madam Evelyn Grant had prayed for. The one thing Damian had been told he might never have. On the night before our wedding, I saw a local post climbing the trending list. [Another day of being the only girl who gets under my boss’s skin.] In the video, a young woman smiled sweetly at the camera. [My boss is terrifying to everyone else. Cold eyes, bad temper, the whole package. But today, during a meeting, I secretly stepped on his shoe under the table. He actually smiled at me. Then he texted me and told me to behave.] The comments were full of people swooning. [That has to be love. A man like that only softens for one woman.] [Look closely. There must be some little detail on him that belongs only to you.] I scrolled down and saw the influencer’s reply. It was a photo of a dark silver tie clip pinned right over her chest. [This is the gift he gave me. He said whenever I see it, I should think of him.] I stared at that tie clip for a long time. It was the engagement gift I had spent a month polishing by hand for Damian. And inside it, there was still a tiny heart made from his fingerprint and mine.

Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.

The darkest corners of the world hold the secrets the leaders want you to forget. Deep inside a cabin covered with moss and shadows, those secrets are not yet forgotten. Under the moon, light glistens off of shining stones lining the porch and bundles of herbs drying from the rafters. Candlelight emanates from the interior and warmth surrounds the occupant. Inside this cabin was a forrest witch who was chanting a spell as she added herbs to a small caldron. Smoke rises and electricity fills the room. Her raven hair started to rise and the smoke turned glowing green. Leaves outside the cabin started swirling in the air raising around the cabin forming a circle. “None may find me where I reside, safe in the forrest this witch hides. Safe from the evil doers and safe from their men. None may ever find me again.” Cold. Like ice from an iceberg, his skin molded smoothly across his frame. The envelop in his hands was sealed by the Elder Lords sigil pressed into blood red wax. Slipping his long pale finger, breaking the seal, one word was inside. “Urgente.” His particular talents were once again needed.

Ever since her nonbiological Mom died, she loathed and blamed herself for that. Avery Maureen Del Hera escaped home when she thought her father whom she grew up with wanted her to go to States, and even be with her biological parents, without him fighting for her. Hence, that's the bare part of the story. When she escaped home, she found a place . . . with the help of her own fate. A zone-like place, literally, with its wide and grandeur sceneries, isolated from the world. It's the Zone of Yavanna, or how the Zoners called it as Forest Survival. It definitely comes with names. Yet she eventually held one while being in there, a codename- a new identity: Cosimia. Her tale begins right at that moment. A journey of being the real sleeping beauty, for she's never awakened with the truth that she's been lost all along. She may have sought where she belongs, but did she see where it will lead her? In this forest that bargains life, away from the cruelty of death, one will strive for the betterment of herself, to think of what will become of her. Here's the thing, she's never a Del Hera, yes, but did she know, too, she's never Avery Maureen?

Would you love something that is broken or admire something that had fell into pieces? Would you hold it close to your heart and accept it, even if it means you'll get cuts? She was broken yet bravely collected herself together. She started a new life and decided to forget everything in the past by creating a fabricated image of herself. Would you dare look beyond the facade she made to get to know her more?" But getting closer means hurting her; digging for more from her past would destroy her. Would you gamble all the chance of helping her fix everything up, even though you’d break her more and make her feel worse? Or would you only admire her from afar and maintain your distance, to keep everything in place that she had built. Would you fight for her even if it means fighting against her?