Monika Poem Words

Everyone said I was Domenico Calvetti's most obedient woman. On our first wedding anniversary, he flirted with a pair of twins at the gambling table. He had lipstick smeared all over his shirt. I smiled and wiped it away with a silk handkerchief, but he swatted my hand aside. "Don't kill the mood." In the third year, the star performer from the club he ran showed up at my door with a gun pressed to my temple, demanding to take my place. Without flinching, I disarmed her using the technique he taught me and disposed of the body myself. Behind me, he held his new lover and laughed softly. "Lucia, you always know what to do." In the fifth year, he blew up the library my father left behind just to make his new flame, Marilena Rossetti, smile. That library was my mother's favorite spot when she was alive, and it held the only photographs of our family of three. The explosion made me the laughingstock of the city. People whispered, "Signora Calvetti can't even protect her own memories." Everyone believed I could never leave the Calvetti family or Domenico, but they forgot how this all started. Back then, he rescued me from my adoptive father and fell in love with me at first sight. He knelt and begged to marry me, swearing he would protect me from blood and pain for the rest of my life. For ten years, I held onto those empty words. At our tenth anniversary party, his hundredth mistress arrived. Alice Russo, fresh out of college, held a glass of red wine and poured it down my gown while Domenico watched. "Signora Calvetti, this dress is so old. Given your position, you should be wearing something better." Everyone at the party waited to see my humiliation. Instead, I lowered my eyes and dialed Domenico's father's number. "Father, the ten-year agreement is over. I won't be Signora Calvetti anymore."

When I was seven years old, my younger brother went into anaphylactic shock after sneaking a handful of peanuts. Outside the emergency room, my mother slammed my head against the wall over and over, her face twisted with rage. "If you had been watching him like you were supposed to be, this never would have happened! You should be the one with a ruptured stomach, not him!" After that, whenever my brother so much as caught a cold, my mother forced me to eat spoiled leftovers as punishment. I once prepared an elaborate feast. She flipped the entire table and made me crawl on the floor to lick it clean. When I said I wanted to study culinary arts, she poured hot oil over my hands. My father wanted to send me to vocational school to learn a trade, but my mother clutched my brother to her chest and wailed. "She destroyed her brother's health! She owes him a lifetime of service!" When I was fifteen, my brother's gluttony cost my father an important business deal. I took the blame without even being asked, and the furious client forced me to drink more than half a gallon of hard liquor. By the time I was sent home with a bleeding stomach, my father had already scolded my brother. My mother took out her anger on me instead, slapping me so hard my ears rang and my vision went dark at the edges. "You useless thing! You should’ve choked to death at that table! I get sick just looking at you!" I coughed up black blood. From my pocket, I pulled out a piece of sour candy that had gone soft and sticky. It was the only treat my mother had ever given me with a smile, back before my brother's allergic reaction. I put the candy in my mouth and swallowed it down with the taste of stomach acid. The candy was so sour it made my throat burn. Whatever came next, I just hoped I would not have to be my family’s garbage disposal again.

"Sweety, jangan melawan. Aku bisa bersikap lembut padamu jika kamu menurut padaku. Jika kamu memberontak, jangan salahkan aku jika besok kamu tidak bisa bangun dari tempat tidurmu!" Demi mempertanggungjawabkan uang dua miliar yang dihilangkan ayahnya, Monika Alexandra harus menikahi Rio Dirgantara, pria arogan, kasar, dan pemarah. Bisakah gadis itu bertahan? Jangan lupa tambahkan ke rak baca kalian, ya! Salam hangat, Hanazawa

When I saw Vincent Carson again, he was now the formidable head of the Carson Corporation with a net worth of tens of millions. By his side was a young, promising screenwriter. Meanwhile, I dragged myself out of the basement, crippled and in a pitiful state. With a condescending tone, Vincent asked, "Three years ago, you sabotaged Irene's chance to win that award. Do you regret it now? If you wish to remain my wife, you must apologize to Irene first." At the same time, the system's voice sounded in my mind, 'Host, are you ready to go home?' I nodded silently. A look of satisfaction washed over Vincent's face as he stepped forward to embrace me. However, in the blink of an eye, I began to vanish right before his eyes. Subsequently, I heard he lost his sanity.

On Christmas, I canceled a delivery appointment for the daughter of New Hork’s richest man. Instead, I flew overnight to deliver the baby of my brother, the Mafia boss, and his fiancée. The moment I stepped into the delivery room, she was already writhing in pain. Yet she suddenly grabbed my hand and demanded to know if I was a virgin. Seeing that she was already three centimeters dilated, I assumed the pain had muddled her mind. So I casually replied that I hadn’t been one for a long time. That was when she completely lost it, kicking me hard in the stomach as she screamed, “Get out! A shameless woman like you isn’t worthy of touching my son?! “Switch to a virgin doctor right now! Don’t pass your filth onto my child! Disgusting! “And take away all those imported supplements you brought! Even dogs wouldn’t eat them!” I stared at her as she rolled around on the bed and fell into deep thought. I genuinely couldn’t understand how a woman who got pregnant before marriage and was still living off my brother got the confidence to look down on someone else for not being a virgin? Calmly, I removed my gloves and called my brother right in front of her. “Your fiancée says I’m dirty, so I won’t be delivering this baby. Let her give birth on her own. “Oh, and I’ve canceled the top-tier delivery suite I reserved for you, too. After all, I wouldn’t want them to offend her eyes.”

Because of the poem he accidentally read, Satsuto's sexual orientation turns upside down. And when he realize that the boy he hates the most was actually he's in love to, what would he do? Can he even melt the cold-as-ice heart of that sanguinarian Snow? “I'll give you your fill and you'll give me a head, how about that?” Read how Satsuto Fuentes will fall deep into the homosexuality rabbit hole as he pursue Snow Benesisto.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*

Matilda, a young lady living in Oxford in 2015, sees no harm in reading a poem about true love that she finds in an antique bookstore. Matilda is confused when she wakes up and finds her self transported back in time to the 15th century. Her situation is made worse when she finds out that in this new life of hers, she has a husband. She tries to explain her predicament to him but he thinks she is his wife that lost her memory. Will Matilda find her way back to the 21st century or will she remain in the 15th century where she finds everything strange?

Erisa seorang penyanyi klub malam yang banyak di gilai banyak pria namun terkenal dengan sikapnya yang dingin dan sulit untuk di taklukan, baginya bekerja di tempat dunia malam yang penuh dengan segala bentuk kegiatan dosa tak harus membuat dirinya ikut tenggelam dalam dosa juga, prinsipnya hanya satu, di sana dia menjual suara, bukan menjual tubuh. Sementara Juan Alberth, seorang pengusaha sukses yang selama ini hidupnya hanya untuk bekerja dan berpetualang dari satu wanita ke wanita lainnya, langsung jatuh cinta saat melihat Erisa untuk yang pertama kalinya, mampukah Juan menaklukan dan mendapatkan hati Erisa, sementara dirinya sudah di jodohkan dengan Monika, seorang dokter muda yang sangat mencintai Juan.

"Jadilah istri kedua untuk suamiku!" Sandra Monika mengalami kecelakaan saat hamil tua, hingga kehilangan anak bahkan rahimnya harus diangkat. Karena kejadian itu sang mertua terus meminta suaminya untuk menikah dengan wanita lain agar memiliki keturunan, sebab Irsyad adalah anak tunggal dan hanya dari Irsyad penerus keturunan di harapkan. 9 tahun berlalu setelah kejadian itu, sang mertua terus meminta suami Sandra menikahi wanita lain. Namun, Irsyad selalu menolak karena cintanya yang begitu besar pada Sandra, tetapi Sandra sudah lelah dengan keadaan yang tak berubah. Akhirnya ia memiliki ide untuk mencarikan istri kedua untuk suaminya dan memilih asistennya sendiri, Hana Ashadiya, sebagai istri kedua untuk suaminya.