Whispers of the Heart
Writing has always been a quiet passion of mine—something I’ve carried with me through different seasons of my life. Over the years, I’ve filled notebooks and phone notes with thoughts, fragments, and little pieces of poetry that I never really shared with anyone.
I’ve decided it’s time to change that.
This space will slowly grow into a collection of the poems I’ve written over the years—some new, some old, some raw, some polished. Each one comes from a moment, a feeling, or a question that stayed with me long enough to become words.
Thank you for being here, and for reading pieces of me I’ve kept tucked away for a long time.
Oceans in Disguise by Magdalena Wieringa
She wandered where the currents ran
beneath a world of painted skies.
Their words were pebbles — smooth but small —
while hers were oceans in disguise.
They laughed at things she couldn’t bear,
they cherished truths she found untrue.
Her mind was galaxies away,
while theirs stayed bound to simple views.
Too sharp, too quick, too intricate,
her questions scared the simple crowd.
They named her strange and turned aside,
afraid her silence spoke too loud.
Too much, they say — too fierce, too wild,
a storm unbeckoned, undefiled.
Their shallow shores can’t cage her mind —
she is the sea they fear to find.
But brilliance isn’t built for ease,
nor made to fit a common mold.
Her soul was shaped for labyrinths,
her heart carved out of untold gold.
She drifted through the laughtered rooms,
a puzzle piece with jagged edge —
her silence like October mist,
her smile a fragile, trembling pledge.
The others spoke in easy lines,
a language she could never learn.
Their warmth was fire just out of reach,
a hearth for which she longed to turn.
She carried books and quiet thoughts,
and stardust secrets left unclaimed.
Her heart was rich with hidden gold,
but unopened, still untamed.
So on she walked through near and far,
between the places hearts reside —
a girl who never fit the mold,
still searching for a world her size.
She never wore the crafted masks
the others clung to, tried, and knew.
Her steps ran light on stranger paths,
her dreams ran deeper, fierce and true.
They whispered that she stood apart,
yet solitude was not her chain.
Her soul stitched through with starry thread,
her spirit singing past the plain.
For fitting in is far too small —
a cage for wings too wide to hide.
She learned the world was not her judge,
but just a map she’d walk outside.
And those who said she lost her way
could never see where she belonged.
She wasn’t made for borrowed songs —
her voice her own, unbound, and strong.
Darkness Falls by Magdalena Wieringa
Into the dark I leave,
searching for reprieve.
I leave alone.
It’s better when I'm on my own.
I felt attached,
now I feel stupid.
I need to slow down
and talk with Cupid.
Should I stay or do I elope?
Am I hanging from a cloud
or hanging from a rope?
The leaves are falling
and I am too.
Into the abyss,
away from you.
My head's a mess,
just like my room,
clinging to hope.
This will end soon.
Sometimes I scream
but have no voice.
Wish I could die
but have no choice.
Desire strikes
as darkness falls.
I'm feeling trapped
within these walls.
I try to break
this mended heart
and watch myself
slowly depart.
I try to inhale
but I can't breathe.
Slowly my blood
begins to seethe.
And as I run
into the light,
I cannot help
but miss the night.
For in the night
it is so dark
no one can see
I've lost my spark.
As sadness grows
and fear awaits.
A fire burns.
Anger awakes.
