Tag: writer

  • 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.

     

  • FUEL

    Yesterday’s faults

    become tomorrow’s sorrows.

    In the dark corners of my mind

    I string stars like fairy lights.

    I take thunder in my chest

    and turn it to fuel—

    to light the fire within.

  • 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.

  • ALL THE YEARS COLLIDED

  • 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.

  • Thunder

    As thunder cracks and the heavens break
    We are pulled back into each other’s storm,
    Drawn by a tether neither of us can name.
    Our cords run deep.


    We search for the centre calm – the fragile quiet buried beneath all this noise.
    For the home of belonging in each other’s heart.

    Chaos surrounds us, chaos tests us,
    Thunder pressing its questions hard against our ribs.


    Yet in the wreckage, we reach for each other first.
    Searching, finding each other
    In the stars,
    In the dark of the night,
    In the rain and the cold,
    And in the last flicker of the flame.


    Always returning, always pulled back in.


    Hold my hand and let it rain,

    You are mine –

    through every storm,

    in every lifetime that finds us 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, 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 943

    For a moment we are whole, delusions of the young.
    We don’t realise the ocean of black that awaits our older souls.

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    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.

  • 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

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    I lay under a sky painted with sweet dreams of us.

    Planets in my head,

    Galaxies in my eyes.

    The night whispers your name, you are always on my mind.

    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 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

  • Untitled post 781

    Creaking skeletal trees.
    Wolves with kerosene eyes.

    Ghosts crying in the walls
    While winter slowly creeps behind me.

    This internal battle is on the edge of dying dreams.

    Life plays the dark symphony
    The nights grow even longer, draped in the veils of wistful sorrow,
    And a small dying hope for better days.

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