Tag: cleanse

  • THE WRATH OF THE BROKEN

    I carried the wrath of the broken.

    Or maybe—

    It carried me.

     

    Are we broken for the better,

    Or just addicted to the dark?

     

    A rose in the mud.

    Wrong side of midnight.

    Nothing grows here—

    It survives.

     

    Shadows of old friends

    Linger longer than they should.

     

    Laughter echoes—

    Warped now,

    Still sharp enough to cut.

     

    There is a stillness

    Between breaths.

     

    Not peace—

    Just pause.

     

    We reach for it anyway,

    Mistaking silence

    For healing.

     

    Trapped in the quiet unravelling,

    We miss the tremors

    Of collapse.

     

    No impact.

    No warning.

     

    Just the slow, sinking truth—

     

    We were never fighting anything else.

     

    We became

    The enemy

    We swore we’d never face.

     

  • ON MY LAST BREATH

    On my last breath,
    I begged the night for a saviour—
    but the darkness stayed quiet.
    No one came.


    The cold laid the truth bare:
    in the chaos, in the ruins,
    no one is coming
    to pull you from your wreckage.


    Your salvation is yours.


    You save yourself—
    or don’t rise.

  • 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.

  • Burning out, beautifully
    – Jacqueline Lente Poetry

  • Artworks

    I want to know the truth of your soul,
    Your strength, your story,
    The fire that drives your heartbeat forward through the night.

    I’m not afraid of the monsters you carry—
    The rage born of old wounds, the scars,
    The hurt forged in your bones.

    I am no stranger to the dark underworld;
    My monsters, my oldest companions—
    Linger like background noise that refuses to die away.

    But we are not our monsters;
    We are what we create from the mess they leave behind.


    Show me the artworks of your life.

    Create some magic with me.

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

  • 🚦 Green Light 🚦

    🚦 Green Light 🚦


    I aimed for red—
    sunset bleeding orange and fire,
    a perfect contrast.

    Then it changed.

    Green.

    I almost didn’t take the shot.

    But I did.

    And now I see more than I planned—
    not colour,
    but a path.
    A horizon waiting.

    We spend so long waiting for the perfect red,
    the perfect moment,
    the perfect sign—

    but life doesn’t wait.

    It turns green.

    And every green light
    leads to the horizon.

    So go.

  • 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 898

    I am thunder, I am storm.
    Bones of mountain, skin of sea.
    A field full of roses and unfinished stories entertwining in the quiet in between.

  • 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.

  • Affogato Afternoons

    Affogato Afternoons

    Affogato afternoons, where the day softens and the heart sharpens.
    I sip the sweetness melting into the bitter, hoping it teaches me something honest.
    I remember I’m allowed to slow down.

    Some afternoons are a truce.
    Others are a battlefield,

    Where I sit across from myself, letting the espresso burn through the fog I thought I was done fighting.
    But here – in this melting moment – I let it all blur.
    The past I’m trying to outgrow, the future I’m not ready for, the voices that rise like steam and disappear just as fast.


    Because in affogato afternoons, I learn the same truth over and over:
    Even the bitter can soften. Even the frozen can give. And sometimes, the only way forward is to let yourself melt just enough to begin again.

  • Untitled post 879

    She loves coffee and rain, the auburn horizon.


    She loves dreaming of naps by the Mediterranean, of being sea-soaked and salt-stained under summers golden veins.

  • 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.

  • When The Mind Gets Messy

    When The Mind Gets Messy

    My dear, I know the mind can get messy as emotions are all jumbled up.
    But your soul is still beautiful,
    Your heart, still strong;
    And your spirit still flows wildly with every passing day.
    The darkness is the truth in reality,
    Sometimes it’s the bittersweet knowledge that we come face to face with,
    That brings us to clarity and understanding.
    Although the journey can be tough and troublesome,
    The universe is guiding you to the right way to live a full life and be free.
    Find your peace amongst the chaos and hold on.
    All the pain and struggle are worth it in the end.
    – “When The Mind Gets Messy” – Jacqueline Ann Lente

  • Insomnia – Lost Sleep

    Insomnia – Lost Sleep

    Darkness consumes me.
    Darkness welcomes me into its sorrowful lair. Holding me there, captive with my thoughts. Crashing together wildly and with no control.
    The pain is heavy and hazy.
    The weight of everything, everyone and everyword heaped upon my shoulders.
    Pain shoots through my whole body, the kind of pain that touches the soul; that tries to weaken the spirit.
    My journey is not easy and my mind sometimes is unforgiving.
    My bones crack, my muscles ache, my head foggy from lack of sleep. My eyes tired from looking into the abyss of the night. Unable to shut off. Unable to dream a sweet sleep.

    – “Insomnia – Lost Sleep” – Jacqueline Ann Lente