Okay? No! I have 3 days off of work and am writing my fingers numb haha. Maybe some reads as sad but for me it is not - I am so glad. To be able to write after 30 years and 6 languages. Now I have a voice. And it shall be free, positive, loving and helping. Nothing else.
It’s one of those poems that feels like it catches you off guard. The rain becomes this strange mirror that brings back someone you thought you’d finally learned to live without. I felt that moment when memory slips in even with the curtains closed — that’s exactly how it works. The images are so familiar: the room too small, the night too big, the kind of sadness that rises quietly inside you. What hit me hardest was the idea of the fire speaking a name you’re trying not to say. That felt painfully true. And the ending — storms made of unfinished love — stayed with me long after I finished reading. It’s the kind of poem that leaves you sitting there for a moment, feeling like someone just described a feeling you’ve never managed to put into words.
"Rain wrote your name"
as no poem ever will,
no title ever can
forever now were the same,
as you poured from past,
before pine grew as name,
in green old tree fell fast,
a river ran grey.
thank you so much for your beautiful comments, dear. There’s a lot of feeling in this… I hope you’re okay, though.
Hey, thank you:)
Okay? No! I have 3 days off of work and am writing my fingers numb haha. Maybe some reads as sad but for me it is not - I am so glad. To be able to write after 30 years and 6 languages. Now I have a voice. And it shall be free, positive, loving and helping. Nothing else.
It’s one of those poems that feels like it catches you off guard. The rain becomes this strange mirror that brings back someone you thought you’d finally learned to live without. I felt that moment when memory slips in even with the curtains closed — that’s exactly how it works. The images are so familiar: the room too small, the night too big, the kind of sadness that rises quietly inside you. What hit me hardest was the idea of the fire speaking a name you’re trying not to say. That felt painfully true. And the ending — storms made of unfinished love — stayed with me long after I finished reading. It’s the kind of poem that leaves you sitting there for a moment, feeling like someone just described a feeling you’ve never managed to put into words.
thank you so much for your beautiful comment
Beautiful work.
Thank you so much 😊
"Some storms are made for unfinished love."
What an ending.
Thank you so much 😊
This is so beautifully written. So tender and fierce.
Thank you so much, Kaila. for admiring my post .
This was very very beautiful! Loved it!
Thank you so much for your kind comment Priya
This brought tears to my eyes. It was so beautiful.
Thank you so much sweet Sattie
Beautiful!
Thank you 👍 Kyla
Hey Safia
Amazing yaar 💕💕
Beautiful words
Beautiful poem
With such nice flow of words 👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽👌🏽
Killed it yaar 💐💐💐
☮️💜☮️💜