Tag: Reborn

  • 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.

     

  • 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.

  • 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.

  • Nothing Leaves Clean

    Nothing Leaves Clean

    Fallen tears,
    coffee stains.


    Sunlight
    cracks through the window—
    soft,
    but unforgiving.


    Heaven is a state of mind.
    Hell lives in the heart.


    And letting go
    never leaves clean.

  • 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, and karma
    will swallow them whole.
    For 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.

  • 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 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.

  • Harvest From The Loss

    Harvest From The Loss

    I thought it would destroy me but I harvested from the loss.

    Release, under a crimson red sky.

    I craved crisp air for my lungs. I willed my cold dead heart back to life.

    Not determined to live under the damage done, determined to rise up from it and rebuild again.

    JACQUELINE LENTE POETRY

  • Find Reasons To Stay

    Find Reasons To Stay

    Find reasons to stay and stay relentless.

    Rest is still progress and rebirth is a journey.

    You will find your way.

    JACQUELINE LENTE POETRY

  • Untitled post 814

    Wisdom rises from failure.

    Dwell not on the past nor inflame the source.

    Correct your misconceptions.

    Transcend limitations.

    Move into the unknown.

    All the power lies within your true self and untroubled spirit.

    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

  • Grow, Die, Grow Again

    Grow, Die, Grow Again

    We grow,
    We die,
    We grow again.

    Through life,
    And its garden
    Of pain
    And beauty.

    Fleeting moments,
    Changing seasons.

    We grow,
    We die,
    We grow again.

    – “Grow, die, Grow again”

    – Jacqueline Ann Lente

    – Feature image taken by Jacqueline Ann Lente