Poems About Feelings Novels & Stories

I want my feelings to be like A balloon in the sky Flying freely And lightly No heaviness at all But my feelings grew Into something More than they should be So they cannot fly in the sky So they popped So I popped I nodded upon reading the lyrics. Good. It matches with the tone I had in mind. All words fit perfectly, and it pefectly describes my feelings and my situation. But really, how wonderful it would be if Jeremy was just my happy crush. If I had stopped this feelings from growing. The air in my chest would feel lighter, probably, and they would fly. But they grew so much to the point my heart cannot contain them anymore.

Her work at the local bookstore, once a mundane routine, now felt infused with a sense of meaning. She found herself drawn to the poetry section, her fingers tracing the spines of books she had never explored before. She discovered the delicate beauty of Emily Dickinson's words, the raw emotion of Sylvia Plath's verse, and the lyrical prose of Langston Hughes. Each poem, a window into a different soul, resonated with her own experiences, her own struggles and triumphs.

My thoughts kept circling around Zinnia, and I kept pushing those thoughts away. Suddenly, a poem popped into my head; In my head, I am fighting fire with fire. The flames are getting bigger and brighter. I can hear it crashing. I can feel it burning. I am tossing, and I am turning. I am burning, and I am screaming. I am crying out for help. Why are they not putting the fire out? They are making it bigger. It is burning faster. I can feel it spreading through my body. Why are they making it worse?

A great piece from a super lover," she added with an emoji of a heart. She sends her own poem eager to show him how she too, was a literary queen and how much she felt alive reading the words that had come out of his heart to her—his emotions bleeding on ink and paper. She calls it 'Heart songs for Nat' Heart songs for Nat. A butterfly flapping it’s wings in lightless, undulating flight, so do i fly into a daydream miraculously clear, with you. A colony of bees busied by the aromatic beckon of that sweet nectar, so do i busy my soul with the bliss of your joyful presence. A gathering of white heaven lilies, a lamb or dove in its rest, so do i lay in pure innocence in bed with you. The cresce

“Neruda. Why are you reading it?” He smiles at me and sits upright. "He makes me realize words can be visceral. Physical. The way he writes about love and loss and desire…you can feel it in your body, not just your mind." He pauses, his dark eyes finding mine. "That's what good writing does. Makes you feel." "What does Neruda make you feel?" The question comes out more intimate than I intended. Like I'm asking something deeper than the words suggest. Tyler holds my gaze. "Longing. The kind that's almost painful. Like wanting something you can't have so badly it rewires your entire existence."

“Then what’s the point.” That made me pause. Because that question wasn’t even sarcastic. It was genuinely him trying to understand. So I sat up a little, book forgotten for the moment. “Poetry makes things deeper than plain boring words,” I said slowly, choosing it carefully. “It’s like asking why an art painting tells a story instead of just writing the story underneath it. It’s not just about information. It’s about feeling it.” He stared at me for a second. Then leaned forward slightly. “You don’t have to go all diplomatic,” he said. “Just say what you want to say.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I did.”

I can't believe that a kiss would feel like opening up your soul, tasting feeling, and seeing every color of the rainbow in its sensual way, almost like catching a smile in a bottle, its softness, its sweetness. I felt as if nothing in the world exists but me and Mister handsome. This feels like I'm levitating off the ground floating in the air. What I'm feeling cannot be put into words, and neither has there been any part of speech or figure of speech invented to describe it. It's like an aphrodisiac, mixed with Pandora's box effect, fireworks glowing inside me from the touch of his lips on me. His insistent mouth was parting my shaking lips, sending wild tremors along my nerves, evoking se

The deep blue sky was turning into a dark shade of orange, and my heart seemed to match its color. I wished I were a bird, able to fly freely without ever needing to stop. I wished I could drift toward the ocean. Now I understand why poems are written, why hearts break, why stars cry, and why the ocean sinks. It's all about the heart. The first time I saw the sunset up close, I got goosebumps. My heart skipped a beat, and I couldn't breathe.

His tail, as cold as ice, and yet as smooth as satin. His silver long hair and piercing mint green pupil, his tail that twinkles like stars striped on a mint green satin. He was his Tide and he would chase him until the end of the world. ********* "My heart has heated for the human and my blood has flown for him. Every time I thought of him, my heart would ache. It would ache so much I couldn't breathe, the feeling of despair, yet sweetness... Even so, I still couldn't stop thinking about him." So...this is how it feels to love a person.

-Lang Leav #PoetryDay" Nakaramdam ako ng pagkamangha sa'king mga nabasa so I liked one of the posts. How could they write things like that? Damang-dama ko ang bawat salitang ginamit nila. How could they express their feelings through writing? Nagbasa pa ako ng ibang poetry ng makatanggap ako ng message from unknown person. "Hi!" he said. "Hello," I replied. "Thanks for liking my poetry!" he told his gratitude. "You're welcome," I said. "Are you also a poet?" he asked me. "No..." I replied. "Why not?" he asked again curiously. "I don't know how to make one," I explained. "It's just your feelings through words." he tried to comfort me.