Yearning Poem Novels & Stories

Still unsigned. She didn’t even wait to go inside. Standing on her apartment steps in the warm afternoon sun, she unfolded it with trembling fingers. You look for freedom in places you once felt safe— in clinics, in crowds, in borrowed laughter. But have you ever asked the wind why it returns to the sea? Or the stars why they wait for the dark? You are not a girl meant for cages. Not for golden rings or glass castles. You are wildfire beneath silk. You are every unspoken dream I never dared to write—until now.

Every second that passed without touching her, without feeling her, struck at the core of me. Even in sickness, a man craves what he needs. Even in desperation, the body remembers desire. Job suffered every loss imaginable, yet he never stopped longing for restoration—of health, of family, of life. David, hunted and broken, still wrote psalms of yearning. Even Christ in the garden asked for the cup to pass, but submitted to what was necessary. Need and duty could exist in the same breath. They did in me now. “Fine,” she said finally.

as if the entire conversation has already been forgotten. Maybe it has been for them, but that billow of fresh air has reignited a spark inside of me, and that yearning is back. The yearning to run free over open, virgin territory. Inside of me, my wolf longs to go. “Head west, young woman,” she breathes. And I promise, “One day, I will.”

The old Whitney would never have tolerated such behavior, but now, all she said was, "There's nothing to be unhappy about. I had been in a coma for three years, after all. Three years is too long for a man, and I don't blame you for getting a look-alike to substitute me." Henry should be happy with the freedom Whitney gave him, but he did not feel that way at all. "What are you thinking about, Henry?" The smile on Lexie's face froze when she saw that something was not quite right with Henry. "Nothing. Here's your cake." He put down the glass in his hand and got someone to light the candles. The flame on the candles swayed in the air, and Lexie closed her eyes to make a wish. Everyone clapped

"Even if I've ended up like this, you've already lost the purest years of Flora's love. Was it worth it?" I paused, then answered calmly, "Of course it was." "Shares, money, beautiful women... I can have as many of them as I want. I should be thanking you for making me get so many treasures in return," I said as Sean's eyes went wide. That night, just like in my last life, he jumped off a cliff. When the news reached me, I was in the middle of discussing the next round of funding for our overseas company with Wendy. I simply turned the page of the report and said very softly, "I see."

Even the bailiffs stood stunned. Aidan’s voice suddenly rose, exploding through the courtroom, "And when I had a fever of 104 degrees, my dearest father threw me out onto the street in the middle of winter like I was garbage!" Soft sobs began rippling through the gallery. Ellie was already shaking from crying, her makeup smeared across her face. "I hate you." Aidan suddenly turned toward our mother, his gaze sharp as a poisoned arrow. "That day in court, you could have chosen me. Why him? Why?!"

… On the day I finally boarded my flight, everyone understood what I meant. Many people came to see me off. Samantha was there too. She held my hand and cried as if she could not bear to let go. She asked, "Caleb, are you really only going overseas for three years? What if you leave and never come back?" I looked at her gently, keeping my voice soft and slow. "If you truly love me, can't you wait just three years? If you can't wait, then maybe we should just—"

His hands were soft and sensual as he brushed my cheek. I shut my eyes and waited for him to turn me round again. He was gone! That was okay. Tomorrow would be another day. I began singing to myself. My vulva, the horn, The Boat of Heaven, Is full of eagerness like the young moon. My untilled land lies fallow. As for me, Inanna, Who will plow my vulva? Who will plow my high field? Who will plow my wet ground? As for me, the young woman,

Did me no scathe And now I had slept on the wrath Of the build that homed my memories They soothed my calvaries Like a balm of a new mother’s lullaby And I hinted at all the sighs That shed a tear or two in play They’d have to suffer a greater delay For there was no angels and no heaven to pave Their way into this darkened mist I am the walking wish Of every lover that Prayed for one more day Of life that would flicker and die With the day’s end And I resent The land that laid me still And now was the time to fill my tray

Raisa wrote a poem entitled in the quiet, she then reread her work. In a lonely corner of the silent night, I hug your shadow in this loneliness. The longing that slices the heart, Flowed with tears that did not stop. In every beat of my heart, There is your name that echoes sadly. The hope that used to strengthen, Now only a painful memory. I walk in empty hallways, Without direction, without light. All the promises you once made, Are now just shadows that disappear slowly. Time passes slowly and cruelly, Leaving deep wounds.