Comentarios recibidos en los poemas de New Girl Dark
When the Light Learned to Die
LOURDES TARRATS dijo:
My friend:
Your poet writes from a place where darkness has shape and breath, yet every line reveals a fierce clarity that refuses to disappear. Even in the imagery of devoured light and abandoned rooms, there is a heartbeat that persists — a quiet defiance. The poem does not glamorize despair; it exposes it honestly, and in doing so, shows the strength of someone who keeps listening to that small, stubborn pulse within. That resilience, however fragile, is the beginning of light.
Tere is always an answer, friend...
From my island, regards and love to you, for:
POETS WE ARE, INDEED...
8 de julio de 2026 a las 20:19
LOURDES TARRATS dijo:
My friend:
Your poet writes from a place where darkness has shape and breath, yet every line reveals a fierce clarity that refuses to disappear. Even in the imagery of devoured light and abandoned rooms, there is a heartbeat that persists — a quiet defiance. The poem does not glamorize despair; it exposes it honestly, and in doing so, shows the strength of someone who keeps listening to that small, stubborn pulse within. That resilience, however fragile, is the beginning of light.
Tere is always an answer, friend...
From my island, regards and love to you, for:
POETS WE ARE, INDEED...
8 de julio de 2026 a las 20:19
When the Light Learned to Die
JordiCris dijo:
A beautiful and poignant poem. I always say that poetry has the power to bring beauty where there is ugliness, light where there is darkness, smiles where there are tears, and hope where there is desolation. Remember that no matter how dark the night, the sun always rises.
Congrats on yout work
8 de julio de 2026 a las 17:03
JordiCris dijo:
A beautiful and poignant poem. I always say that poetry has the power to bring beauty where there is ugliness, light where there is darkness, smiles where there are tears, and hope where there is desolation. Remember that no matter how dark the night, the sun always rises.
Congrats on yout work
8 de julio de 2026 a las 17:03
When the Light Learned to Die
Javier Julián Enríquez dijo:
Dear friend,
Thank you so much for this beautiful poem. The profound desolation described herein transcends mere melancholic sentiment, manifesting as an existential void. This void is characterized by an absence of light and pervasive silence, signifying overwhelming entropy that consumes one\'s essence. The text describes a state of profound loneliness, where the outside world is an impenetrable barrier, making connection and sensory experience futile. This condition is not transient sorrow, but rather a fundamental negation of existence—a descent into an abyss where time loses meaning and the self becomes a desolate landscape. The internal experience is depicted as a spectral haunting: a desolate interiority where the echoes of life are faint vestiges. The persistent, albeit faltering, heartbeat symbolizes a profoundly diminished yet enduring flicker of consciousness—a testament to existence in extremis, devoid of the vitality of lived experience.
Receive my warmest greetings
8 de julio de 2026 a las 16:18
Javier Julián Enríquez dijo:
Dear friend,
Thank you so much for this beautiful poem. The profound desolation described herein transcends mere melancholic sentiment, manifesting as an existential void. This void is characterized by an absence of light and pervasive silence, signifying overwhelming entropy that consumes one\'s essence. The text describes a state of profound loneliness, where the outside world is an impenetrable barrier, making connection and sensory experience futile. This condition is not transient sorrow, but rather a fundamental negation of existence—a descent into an abyss where time loses meaning and the self becomes a desolate landscape. The internal experience is depicted as a spectral haunting: a desolate interiority where the echoes of life are faint vestiges. The persistent, albeit faltering, heartbeat symbolizes a profoundly diminished yet enduring flicker of consciousness—a testament to existence in extremis, devoid of the vitality of lived experience.
Receive my warmest greetings
8 de julio de 2026 a las 16:18
Happy Birthday to Me
LOURDES TARRATS dijo:
New Friend;
Your poem feels like a hand placed gently on a wound. It doesn’t hide the loneliness, but it also doesn’t collapse under it. There’s a quiet dignity in the way you describe a birthday without celebration, without noise, without company… and yet filled with those small, unexpected reminders that you still matter to people far away.
What moves me most is the strength beneath the sadness—the way you stand in the darkness without lowering your head, the way you turn survival itself into a form of celebration. It’s tender, raw, and deeply human.
Reading you makes one want to sit beside that silence, not to fix it, but simply to let you feel seen.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR, NOW AND ALWAYS.
FROM THE ISLAND OF MY EMBRACES, I SENT YOU A HUG: because:
POETS WE ARE INDEED....
24 de mayo de 2026 a las 01:21
LOURDES TARRATS dijo:
New Friend;
Your poem feels like a hand placed gently on a wound. It doesn’t hide the loneliness, but it also doesn’t collapse under it. There’s a quiet dignity in the way you describe a birthday without celebration, without noise, without company… and yet filled with those small, unexpected reminders that you still matter to people far away.
What moves me most is the strength beneath the sadness—the way you stand in the darkness without lowering your head, the way you turn survival itself into a form of celebration. It’s tender, raw, and deeply human.
Reading you makes one want to sit beside that silence, not to fix it, but simply to let you feel seen.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR, NOW AND ALWAYS.
FROM THE ISLAND OF MY EMBRACES, I SENT YOU A HUG: because:
POETS WE ARE INDEED....
24 de mayo de 2026 a las 01:21
Happy Birthday to Me
ElidethAbreu dijo:
Dear NewGirlDark:
There’s a quiet power in this opening—its restraint says more than celebration ever could. By denying the familiar markers of festivity, it creates an immediate sense of absence and emotional space. The simplicity of the lines makes the silence feel almost tangible, as if what’s missing is as present as what’s named.
Happy Birthday to you!
24 de mayo de 2026 a las 01:19
ElidethAbreu dijo:
Dear NewGirlDark:
There’s a quiet power in this opening—its restraint says more than celebration ever could. By denying the familiar markers of festivity, it creates an immediate sense of absence and emotional space. The simplicity of the lines makes the silence feel almost tangible, as if what’s missing is as present as what’s named.
Happy Birthday to you!
24 de mayo de 2026 a las 01:19
Happy Birthday to Me
zza dijo:
Birthdays are noisy celebrations for many, for others it\'s just a date on paper.
Greetings
Zza
24 de mayo de 2026 a las 01:11
zza dijo:
Birthdays are noisy celebrations for many, for others it\'s just a date on paper.
Greetings
Zza
24 de mayo de 2026 a las 01:11
Happy Birthday to Me
Tommy Duque dijo:
haha, sometimes, we are all we have got...
🌹
23 de mayo de 2026 a las 23:19
Tommy Duque dijo:
haha, sometimes, we are all we have got...
🌹
23 de mayo de 2026 a las 23:19
Happy Birthday to Me
Salvador Santoyo Sánchez dijo:
What matters in that someone remembers you
Greetings.
23 de mayo de 2026 a las 22:51
Salvador Santoyo Sánchez dijo:
What matters in that someone remembers you
Greetings.
23 de mayo de 2026 a las 22:51
The Curse of Being Loved
Blake_2010 dijo:
A beutiful poem, thanks for inviting us to read this magical text. A big hug and plese, keep writing this breathtaking poems.
13 de mayo de 2026 a las 07:23
Blake_2010 dijo:
A beutiful poem, thanks for inviting us to read this magical text. A big hug and plese, keep writing this breathtaking poems.
13 de mayo de 2026 a las 07:23
The Curse of Being Loved
David Arthur dijo:
A poignant gothic poem NewGirlDark :
....Anyone who tried to love me
slowly lost themselves.
Some became obsessed,
watching me as if I were the last light left in the world.
Some turned cruel with desperation,
trying to possess what they could never truly keep.
Others simply died....
Haunting
10 de mayo de 2026 a las 16:33
David Arthur dijo:
A poignant gothic poem NewGirlDark :
....Anyone who tried to love me
slowly lost themselves.
Some became obsessed,
watching me as if I were the last light left in the world.
Some turned cruel with desperation,
trying to possess what they could never truly keep.
Others simply died....
Haunting
10 de mayo de 2026 a las 16:33
The House That Swallowed Me
Blake_2010 dijo:
I love your words, you express something a lot of people feel. Thanks for that awesome poem, it really made me feel seen. Not every poem has to be of love.
6 de mayo de 2026 a las 08:16
Blake_2010 dijo:
I love your words, you express something a lot of people feel. Thanks for that awesome poem, it really made me feel seen. Not every poem has to be of love.
6 de mayo de 2026 a las 08:16
No One Says It, But It Hurts
Blake_2010 dijo:
It\'s hard to be the happy friend and having to help people while they don\'t help, having to put up with things a person should, and having to put on that mascare every day so people don\'t hate you. Thanks for representing it, really, thanks
5 de mayo de 2026 a las 15:04
Blake_2010 dijo:
It\'s hard to be the happy friend and having to help people while they don\'t help, having to put up with things a person should, and having to put on that mascare every day so people don\'t hate you. Thanks for representing it, really, thanks
5 de mayo de 2026 a las 15:04
It Wasn’t a Mistake
Blake_2010 dijo:
That is true, we may think it\'s us failing but most of the times rejection is only the envy of others against our way of facing problems and shining on top of them. Thanks poet NewGirlDark for his breath taking and true writing. Best wishes
13 de abril de 2026 a las 04:15
Blake_2010 dijo:
That is true, we may think it\'s us failing but most of the times rejection is only the envy of others against our way of facing problems and shining on top of them. Thanks poet NewGirlDark for his breath taking and true writing. Best wishes
13 de abril de 2026 a las 04:15
It Wasn’t a Mistake
LOURDES TARRATS dijo:
Your poem speaks with a clarity that doesn’t need embellishment. You name the quiet cruelty of environments that punish authenticity, and you do it with a steady, honest voice. There’s strength in the way you recognize the difference between being valued and being used, and even more strength in how you affirm that what is genuine endures, no matter who tries to diminish it.
It’s a powerful piece — not for its anger, but for its truth.
New friend, no one can take your strength unless you hand it over.
Many hugs with recognition, because:
Poets we are, indeed.
12 de abril de 2026 a las 17:08
LOURDES TARRATS dijo:
Your poem speaks with a clarity that doesn’t need embellishment. You name the quiet cruelty of environments that punish authenticity, and you do it with a steady, honest voice. There’s strength in the way you recognize the difference between being valued and being used, and even more strength in how you affirm that what is genuine endures, no matter who tries to diminish it.
It’s a powerful piece — not for its anger, but for its truth.
New friend, no one can take your strength unless you hand it over.
Many hugs with recognition, because:
Poets we are, indeed.
12 de abril de 2026 a las 17:08
The House That Swallowed Me
LOURDES TARRATS dijo:
My dear new friend,
Your poem carries a quiet kind of courage—the kind that doesn’t shout, but trembles and still speaks. You’ve put into words what so many live through in silence: a childhood taken too early, a love that was never love, a life shaped by expectations you never chose.
There is so much strength in the way you name the cage.
Not with anger, not with bitterness, but with honesty.
That honesty is its own kind of freedom.
The way you describe holding keys that weren’t yours, opening doors for others while staying locked inside yourself… it’s heartbreaking, and yet it shows how deeply you’ve always cared, even when no one cared for you in return.
And when you say “I don’t want to die… I just don’t want to live like this,”
I hear not despair, but a longing for a life that finally belongs to you.
A life chosen, not assigned.
A life where your voice isn’t the one that disappears.
You deserve that life.
You deserve gentleness.
You deserve a world where freedom isn’t something you have to apologize for.
Leaving the cage—seeing it for what it was—is not betrayal.
It’s awakening.
And choosing your heart, even late, even broken, is not weakness.
It’s the beginning of becoming whole.
I’m here, reading you with respect, with tenderness, and with the certainty that your truth matters.
You are not fading.
You are emerging.
Keep on going, girlfriend, you deserve it.
Many hugs and tender care, because:
POETS WE ARE, INDEED.
4 de abril de 2026 a las 21:28
LOURDES TARRATS dijo:
My dear new friend,
Your poem carries a quiet kind of courage—the kind that doesn’t shout, but trembles and still speaks. You’ve put into words what so many live through in silence: a childhood taken too early, a love that was never love, a life shaped by expectations you never chose.
There is so much strength in the way you name the cage.
Not with anger, not with bitterness, but with honesty.
That honesty is its own kind of freedom.
The way you describe holding keys that weren’t yours, opening doors for others while staying locked inside yourself… it’s heartbreaking, and yet it shows how deeply you’ve always cared, even when no one cared for you in return.
And when you say “I don’t want to die… I just don’t want to live like this,”
I hear not despair, but a longing for a life that finally belongs to you.
A life chosen, not assigned.
A life where your voice isn’t the one that disappears.
You deserve that life.
You deserve gentleness.
You deserve a world where freedom isn’t something you have to apologize for.
Leaving the cage—seeing it for what it was—is not betrayal.
It’s awakening.
And choosing your heart, even late, even broken, is not weakness.
It’s the beginning of becoming whole.
I’m here, reading you with respect, with tenderness, and with the certainty that your truth matters.
You are not fading.
You are emerging.
Keep on going, girlfriend, you deserve it.
Many hugs and tender care, because:
POETS WE ARE, INDEED.
4 de abril de 2026 a las 21:28
The House That Swallowed Me
Salvador Santoyo Sánchez dijo:
I\'m a dark poet, and I sail in the shadows, I don\'t want light, Let me sleep!
Greetings poet
4 de abril de 2026 a las 16:39
Salvador Santoyo Sánchez dijo:
I\'m a dark poet, and I sail in the shadows, I don\'t want light, Let me sleep!
Greetings poet
4 de abril de 2026 a las 16:39
The One Who Walked Alone
Vientoazul dijo:
“Quien sobrevive al silencio
se vuelve más fuerte.”
Gracias por compartir, nacemos sin poder elegir ninguna variable. Lo cual indica una frase: nacemos donde la madre naturaleza nos lo impone. Vientoazul
18 de marzo de 2026 a las 23:41
Vientoazul dijo:
“Quien sobrevive al silencio
se vuelve más fuerte.”
Gracias por compartir, nacemos sin poder elegir ninguna variable. Lo cual indica una frase: nacemos donde la madre naturaleza nos lo impone. Vientoazul
18 de marzo de 2026 a las 23:41
No One Says It, But It Hurts
Santiago Alboherna dijo:
Except God, for He is always watching us ...
beautiful poem
17 de marzo de 2026 a las 11:04
Santiago Alboherna dijo:
Except God, for He is always watching us ...
beautiful poem
17 de marzo de 2026 a las 11:04
My Own Home
Syol * dijo:
That\'s home indeed....when relying on something else is pointless...
Thanks for sharing...
3 de marzo de 2026 a las 02:00
Syol * dijo:
That\'s home indeed....when relying on something else is pointless...
Thanks for sharing...
3 de marzo de 2026 a las 02:00
My Own Home
El Hombre de la Rosa dijo:
Genial y hermoso tu preciado versar estimado poeta y amigo
Rwecibe un abrazo de Críspulo desde España
El Hombre den la Rosa
28 de febrero de 2026 a las 04:28
El Hombre de la Rosa dijo:
Genial y hermoso tu preciado versar estimado poeta y amigo
Rwecibe un abrazo de Críspulo desde España
El Hombre den la Rosa
28 de febrero de 2026 a las 04:28
My Garden of Shadows
LOURDES TARRATS dijo:
Friend,
This is a beautifully introspective and haunting piece. Your words evoke a sense of quiet strength—solitude not as loneliness, but as sacred communion with the unseen. The imagery of untamed roses and whispered shadows paints a world where silence speaks volumes, and identity is rooted in something deep, eternal, and poetic. A red sigh, indeed—soft, defiant, unforgettable.
Thank you for writing,
-LOURDES
Poets we are indeed...
11 de febrero de 2026 a las 09:06
LOURDES TARRATS dijo:
Friend,
This is a beautifully introspective and haunting piece. Your words evoke a sense of quiet strength—solitude not as loneliness, but as sacred communion with the unseen. The imagery of untamed roses and whispered shadows paints a world where silence speaks volumes, and identity is rooted in something deep, eternal, and poetic. A red sigh, indeed—soft, defiant, unforgettable.
Thank you for writing,
-LOURDES
Poets we are indeed...
11 de febrero de 2026 a las 09:06
