A Place Where the Poet Still Breathes

A Place Where the Poet Still Breathes movie, book, poetry, nature, and him

04/08/2026

I bury what I cannot say
between sentences and unfinished thoughts.

I dress my feelings in beautiful language,
as if elegant words could disguise
the trembling underneath them.

He looks at me and sees a writer—
someone who knows exactly where every word belongs,
someone who can turn chaos into something beautiful,
someone who seems to have mastered
the language of her own heart.

But he never sees what happens
when the page goes quiet.

He doesn't know
that every poem I write about him
is a confession I was too afraid to speak.

He is not the character
I created between the lines.

He is the reason there are lines at all.

I may hold the pen,
but he holds the meaning.

And perhaps that's the cruelest irony,
I spend my days writing about him
as though I am the author of the story,

when in truth,
he is the story
I never learned how to control.

23/06/2026

Shadows of What Was Mine

At the tender age of four, my world unraveled;
My parents parted ways, their bond dissolved.
My father abandoned us, leaving only silence,
No promise kept, no comfort to be found.

My mother journeyed far to seek her fortune,
Away from home, away from where I stayed.
When years later she finally returned,
It was not to reclaim the child she left behind—
But to introduce a new life, a new family,
A home where I held no place, no part.

And so too did my father build another realm,
With new kin to call his own, far from my sight.

Now at sixteen, I turn to them for sustenance,
For the support and care that is my right.
Yet they speak of hardship, of burdens heavy to bear,
Offering excuses more readily than aid.
My mother never once fulfilled her duty;
My father gives only after long delay.
They have cast their obligations upon others,
Neglecting the very role they ought to fill.

And as I gaze upon my half‑siblings,
A quiet envy stirs deep within my chest.
They possess the parents I once knew—
The love, the guidance, the shelter I once dreamed of.
They walk in the light of what was meant for me,
While I remain in the shadow of what could have been.

They are parents in name alone, not in devotion;
Yet even in this pain, I shall not falter.
For though they gave away what was rightfully mine,
I shall forge my own path, and rise above it all.

01/04/2026

I learned to look away from mirrors before I learned to look gently at myself.

Every reflection felt like a question I never knew how to answer, every glance became another reason to wonder if I was enough.

I spent so long searching for a version of myself that felt easier to love, not realizing I was asking someone hurting to become someone else.

Maybe that was the cruelest part— I wasn't missing beauty, I was missing the kindness to see myself beyond it.

And some nights, I still grieve for the girl who thought she had to become someone different to deserve her own love.

But perhaps growing is learning to meet her there, not with judgment, but with understanding.

01/04/2026

I’m sure he knows how to,
maybe I’m just not the one
he truly wants to treat right.

Maybe I’m simply not the person
he sees himself spending his future with.

01/04/2026

And now, she writes again.

Perhaps she never stopped being a writer, she only forgot how to translate herself into words.

No one could write her story better than she could, for she was never merely the author.

She was the art between the lines.

22/03/2026

Linger where nothing seems to move—this is where unseen things take shape.

Adresse

Zürich

Website

Benachrichtigungen

Erfahren Sie als Erste/r von Neuigkeiten und Aktionen: Wir schicken Ihnen eine E-Mail, wenn A Place Where the Poet Still Breathes etwas veröffentlicht. Ihre E-Mail-Adresse wird für keinen anderen Zweck verwendet, und Sie können sich jederzeit abmelden.

Verknüpfungen

Teilen

Kategorie