Heartfelt Poems Novels & Stories

"If it was a piece of paper, I would tear it. If it was a bottle, I would break it, if it was a wall, I would tear it down - But it's my heart" ~Mahmoud Darwish The words sunk so deeply, creating a large gap in my soul. There was just something so devastatingly beautiful about romantic poetry, I loved it to no end. The idea of loving someone to the point that you yearn for them, their very person, every inch of their skin, every habit of theirs, every peculiar trait is picked, loved and immortalized.

I fell asleep thinking of when my life would take a turn . "Riley , Dexion hide don't come out till I tell you to. Okay sweethearts " Okay mom ,we said systematically. Mom I want to listen to one of your many poems . " Okay sweetheart here it goes , The song of my heart is like the clouds with it's tears ,it's like a poets words to it's audience,it's like a heart beat with it's thumping sound , what's the beauty of a faded rose lost among the depth of soil , what's the beauty of a star if it stops twinkling , what's the beauty of the heart of it stops loving . How was it my princess ? " Mom again , again again .I said repeatedly. The fire was burning our home and I could not see my mom or br

“I have always wondered if Ken got tricked into buying something else.” “It really contains love poems. Would you like me to read a couple of them?” Mary asked. “Would you?” Anna asked with eyes full of wonder. “It would be my pleasure,” Mary said and turned to the first poem in the book. “A whisper of the heart,” she read the title. “In the darkness of the night, Even as the stars have abandoned us, Even as the moon hides it face, You can still hear it, A faint whisper, A whisper that grows stronger With every beat of my heart.

Parang hinahayaan niya lang akong mataranta at mas lalong nakakagulo 'yon kasi sa pagitan ng tawanan ng mga kaibigan namin, sa pagitan ng ingay ng bus at ng maagang araw na unti-unting sumisilip sa mga bintana naramdaman kong may mga pusong hindi talaga marunong maging simple. Some loves arrive in quiet prayers, Some burn like smoke in hidden airs. One feels like peace, one dares affairs, One heals the wounds, one leaves you tears. And maybe hearts were never meant for fairness, Maybe mine was built for... illicit affairs. ────────────────────────────────────────────────────

That's the problem - I considered myself family," I said, my voice shaking. I think they had finally begun to analyze the string of things I had said, but it was too late because now everything was clear. While I loved them, and I could give my life for them, they only appreciated me - an ephemeral and replaceable feeling. Damn, I had told them, I loved them, but that feeling had arisen twisted and macabre for the wolves. My neck bore the mark of their family, my chest bore the mark of their brotherhood - the ace of hearts carved with ink - but that seemed to not be enough for them.

"I think, watching my grandmother tonight, that easier isn't really the goal. I think honest is the goal, even when honest feels considerably harder than the alternative would." "That sounds like something I'd say," I observed, something warm entering my voice despite the evening's weight. "I've had considerable practice learning it from you," Damien said, reaching for my hand across the car's console. "I don't think I would have known how to sit with Eleanor's grief so directly before you taught this entire family that avoiding difficult feelings usually costs more than facing them honestly ever does."

I stopped in my tracks, and stared at the covered stage, hoping to see a person on it. The curtains still covered the entirety of the elevated platform, but I could hear silent footsteps behind it. Then, a gentle strum of an electric guitar echoed in the hall. “What…?” I quietly gasped. That was so clean! I could feel goosebumps from every part of my body, and I stood stone in my position, overwhelmed. A gentle chord after chord followed in pursuit, and as I listened closely, it felt like I could discern the emotions behind the played music. Grief, loneliness… anger.

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” But even as I say it, I know it’s a lie. I could never hate him, no matter how badly I want to. Even now, with my heart lying shattered at my feet, I love him. God help me, I’ll always love him. Gradually, my blows weaken, my anger dissipating like mist under the heat of the sun. I collapse against him, my forehead pressed to his chest, my tears soaking into his shirt. The fabric is soft against my skin, the steady thrum of his heartbeat an achingly familiar rhythm beneath my cheek.

No matter how hard | tried to swerve the subject away from her, it always led to her entrancing brown eyes and delicate face. | thought about how good it had felt to have her head rest against my back and how nice it was when we shared that moment in the meadows just gazing at each other. | thought about how good it felt to have her wrapped in my arms like she belonged there when she almost fell, or how she looked so carefree and happy when that firefly landed on her nose. | shut my eyes tightly and tried my best to just go to sleep and forget about Penelope for one night. And | did go to sleep. But | still dreamt of her.

He is a heartless, ruthless demon and an enemy that is not easy to defeat. ******** Violet was standing by the window in her room, watching the rain falling. The sun had fallen asleep, leaving the sky in darkness. Tears dripped from Violet's eyes as her heart crying in pain. All the bad things that happened to her made her feel like she was living in hell.