Tag: broken

  • LOOK / SEARCH / YEARN


    LOOK FOR


    A horizon
    that doesn’t fade
    when you reach it.

    A purpose
    that survives the quiet.

    A reason
    not to burn it all down.

    Something that holds
    when you lean—
    And doesn’t give.

    SEARCH FOR


    A place
    where you don’t perform.

    A landing
    that doesn’t collapse.

    A room inside you
    that doesn’t echo.

    A truth
    that survives the storm—
    Not gentle,
    but still yours.
     
    YEARN FOR


    A home
    that doesn’t bruise.

    Warmth
    that doesn’t leave.

    Something
    that doesn’t shrink you
    or ask you to betray yourself.

    Yearn for the self
    that stops asking.

    The one that stands—
    Unflinching,
    unchosen by fear.

    The one that takes the throne
    without apology—
    After everything
    it bled to keep.

  • UNEARTHED

    Deep with rage
    the soul rots between the bones.

    Voices fade.
    Words disappear.

    Sleep comes—
    never gently.

    Standing alone in the forest,
    the ground underneath
    swallowing me whole.

    I escape morning
    After night
    has unearthed my bones. 

  • REVIVAL

    Regrowth is not gentle.
    I died at midnight—

    A slow bleed,
    crying spells,
    fractures beneath the surface.

    Learning to grow
    in the soil of last year’s failures—
    they are lessons,
    not a death sentence.

    I shed the stories that kept me small,
    shut the doors that fed the dark.
    I make peace with sunlight,
    and the quiet pull of moonlit nights.

    I embrace the changes—

    soft,
    loud,
    necessary.

    I hold the tender moments.

    I love—despite the madness.

    Revival.

  • You can’t outrun what lives in your bones
    – Jacqueline Lente Poetry

  • Burning out, beautifully
    – Jacqueline Lente Poetry
  • Lost in Ruin.

  • ALL THE YEARS COLLIDED

  • STARGAZING

  • My tears remain the same, but I will never be that me again.

  • Let Them Fall

    Let Them Fall

    Let them be who they pretend to be,
    and let them fall.

    Leave them to their misery,
    their hollow claims and borrowed skin.

    Negativity, truth, karma
    will swallow them whole.
    They are their own demon,
    their own slow demise.

    True colours fracture through the mask,
    the costume stained beyond repair.
    They hate the mirror of their own heart,
    so they hide inside a stranger’s face.

  • Untitled post 857

    The earth held me when no one else did.
    I remembered myself in the space between the stars —
    in that breathless silence where the broken pieces finally settled.
    Somewhere between gravity and the void, I became whole again.

  • Untitled post 852

    Tra fiori selvatici e vino, I toast the ghosts that never learned to leave me.

    I tear the petals, I drain the bottle, I dare the night to swallow me whole.

    I bloom where I burn.

  • Two Strangers Part Two

    Two Strangers Part Two

    Two Strangers met
    And accidentally fell in as more than lovers

    We had different demons but matching wounds,
    And sad past tales to tell

    Two broken souls
    Trying to find some guidance home within each other

    Sadly,
    The echos of fear, ego, and past trauma were too great
    Destruction and self-sabotage got in the way
    We became lost

    From drowning in your gaze
    Skin to skin
    To drowning in your absence

    Another scar to add to the map
    Out in the cold again
    At war with my head again

    Two Strangers met
    And fell in as more than lovers
    But Love is war
    Life is chaos
    And two lovers became two strangers again.

    – Two Strangers Part Two

    JACQUELINE LENTE POETRY

  • Untitled post 786

    The sad truth is
    No one else can save you.

    You have to dust away the misery.

    Darker times behind, darker times ahead
    We are endlessly changing.

    Facing scattered dreams,
    Silent screams.

    Bleeding for a thousand reasons.

    Rebirth,
    The heart beats slow.

    Safe in quiet places
    Seeking my own comforts,
    My own means to stay alive.

    Jacqueline Lente Poetry

  • Untitled post 783

    I’ve vanished in the silence.
    Buried everything in boxes, in the attic of my mind.

    Creaking thoughts
    Always trying to escape.

    My heart,
    A garden of lost things
    And empty spaces.

    – Jacqueline Lente Poetry
    – http://www.jacquelineannlente.wordpress.com