Longing Poems Novels & Stories

He gave her his widest grin and pecked her lips this time around. "Hmm, lemme pour my own new poem for you. It's a lonely night Silently watching the heaven above that has no gap Quietly wishing it also has the small crack That is separating my heart from being one and whole The stars are getting acquainted to each other Helping the other twinkle And I wish they'd look down at me and flicker the dying Light in my soul and bring it back to life Still watching as the old dry palm branch shaped moon Slowly drifts down to the appointed term

My voice trembled with the raw hunger I had buried for years. The way his hands roam, possessive and urgent, it is everything I have craved in secret nights alone, touching myself to thoughts of him. I tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal the toned chest I had stolen glances at during family dinners. My fingers traced the lines of his muscles, feeling them flex under my touch.

A woman who has been wanted. Not admired from a distance. Not pursued for convenience. Not tolerated. Wanted with focus. With patience. With the kind of attention that does not ask what it can take, only what it can give. My throat tightens again. I grip the edge of the sink until my knuckles pale. I have written longing for years. I have put it in books, dressed it in metaphor and dialogue and slow-burn tension. I have made it beautiful on the page because beauty is safer than truth.

The echoes of what could have been haunt every corner, refusing to fade into silence. Could the tenderness of my mother's touch have eased the anguish in my soul? Tell me, what more did I yearn for? Regret pulls against my desperate desire to forget, a relentless struggle that grips me. Amid the bitter wind, my mother’s ambition shines stubbornly, like candles flickering atop the altar—a vision of hope and expectation that should have faded with time. Yet, it clings to me, an unyielding reminder of a past I cannot escape. When does foolish longing morph into grief?

Velvet’s POV As I wandered through the empty house, my heart ached with a sexual longing. My sexy daddy was away for Fred’s wedding, leaving me by myself to endure this loneliness. The silence was over whelming, it increased my longing, the hunger gnawing within my core. It had been just a day since I last felt his tender caress, but it felt like eternity to me and my body yearned for release. Heaving a sigh, I made my way towards our shared bedroom, as images of passionate encounters flooded my mind. The time we had spent here rolling on the sheets like tomorrow doesn't exist.

Their love story is a vibrant tapestry, woven with threads of longing, yearning, and the thrill of discovery. The desires of a young couple are like wildflowers in the meadow, colorful and intoxicating. They are consumed by the urge to explore, to learn, and to experience every facet of love's rich terrain. Their hearts are open books, and every touch, every stolen glance, writes another page in their passionate narrative.

A shiver ran down my spine as I surrendered myself even more to the touch of our embrace, my mind awash with a heady mixture of desire and longing. With each heartbeat, I felt myself falling deeper into the abyss of desire. My emotions swirled like leaves caught in a tempestuous wind. The touch of Orion was a balm to my soul, igniting a flame that I had long kept buried beneath layers of caution. Yet, as we danced on the precipice of intimacy, I found myself surrendering to the allure of our connection. My longing was laid bare in every lingering glance and hesitant touch. Lost in the passion, I clung to Orion desperately, as if he were the anchor keeping me from being swept away by the tide

And when the first five words left his lips, I could not explain how I felt because somehow we prepared the same vow. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace I love thee to the level of every day’s Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs and with my childhood faith

I'm jealous, jealous to the point of madness. +++ I don't know how many cans of beer I drank, the feeling of longing for a shadow surrounded me, and I couldn't help but unconsciously walked to find you. I stood there for a long time, a long time when I saw a car stop in front of the house. Still, the same name Huy went with me in the morning, he gently pulled Thu out of the car, wrapping his arms around her with nostalgia. The crazy blood in my body followed the yeast to seep into my skin. I wanted to run to punch him to death, but seeing the smile on Thu's lips even brighter, unconsciously my heart ached, and a cold feeling quickly came over me. I missed her like crazy but then she showed m

However, my longings would be the punishment for wanting something I could never have. Something so close, but yet, so far away.