Novel & Cerita Poems On Broken Dreams

I yelled. The only thing that was on my mind was Kat as I swerved myself off the road and off the cliff. . . . ¥€¥€¥ "FUCK!" I yelled as I shot up from my bed. I looked around to see Kat laying peacefully in my bed. It was all a dream. I'm not even in a gang "What's wrong baby." Kat asked as she began to wake up. "Kat you have to promise me you will never leave me, or you will never give up on me." I said as tears aligned my eyes.

Sleep, when it came, was shallow and restless, plagued by dreams of shadows and threats lurking just beyond reach. --- The dawn broke with a pale, cold light filtering through the trees, casting long shadows across the forest floor. Sophia shivered as she stood outside the cabin, staring out at the endless stretch of woods. The sense of being watched hadn’t left her, even in the daylight. Every rustle of leaves or distant birdcall set her on edge.

I gazed down at my wedding ring, catching the golden glow of the sunset. Those who once hurt us were now little more than faded ink on the pages of a distant fairy tale. The real story was now unfolding warmly and vividly in the palms of our hands.

Damian asks. Am I okay? I feel dirty. I feel violated. I feel used. I'm in unbearable pain. I'm covered in blood, piss, and semen. I can taste shit in my mouth. My body won't stop trembling. There's tears falling from my eyes. He broke me.

I no longer choose to dream because I start believing that it is absurd. Because what precisely is a dream? Is it like crumbled leaves and stems from a tree falling from the highest altitude and touched down on the rock bottom like shards of glass? I cannot put everything back together, having known that the coming years are a clouded reflection that I cannot seem to decrypt from afar as the fumes engulf me. But what must I do? In order to preserve your sanity, you must keep on dreaming. Unsurprisingly, I no longer have it. *** Unknown POV

Alone. Just like me. Everything still broken.

What else can I offer to the son who still stands beside me, to the memory of the woman I once was, to the possibility that something good might still grow from the soil so thoroughly poisoned by my choices? The wolves may no longer answer my call, the villages may have closed their doors against me, and the nights may be full of fire and regret. But my hands still work, my back still bends, and somewhere in the rhythm of labor and sweat and gradual progress, I find something that might, one day, resemble hope. Even if I stand alone in that hope. Even if I am the only one who believes that broken things can sometimes be mended. Even if the kingdom I am trying to rebuild exists only in my own

If I dream of the White Wolf tonight, I’m going to ask her advice. I snorted. If I’d been that White Wolf, I’d have told her to stay away from Ella. I was about to close the journal when I saw the second page ended with a poem. Olivia liked to sprinkle poems into her journals. You cannot say, or guess, for you know only A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief, And the dry stone no sound of water. Only There is shadow under this red rock,

Learning the rhythm of the house, the names whispered in the dark, the cracks in the system. I’m not broken. I’m patient. And when I move—when I burn this place down— I won’t be quiet.

*sigh*' Jessa’s POV Today is my first day at work and the anxiety is getting the best of me and the fact that I am going to be with the greek God almost all the time is not helping any better. The f**cking dream is also hunting me like a damn zombie. It is stuck in my memories. Ugh! My life is just so fucked up. Nothing good can come out of my pathetic life. I can't seem to think or focus on anything except the damn dream, this fucked up dream.