lonelypoetandiknowit

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

I am caught in a war with myself

I am two beings. 

The woman I wish to be; graceful, puts her needs above the wants of others, prioritizes herself, spends time dating herself, does extra things she loves on a regular basis, buying gifts for herself, is sympathetic to others but doesn’t allow their emotions to govern her own, reads morning and night, goes to both services of church on Sunday, takes things as they are and not freaking out of what they could be, etc. 

And 

The woman I am; emotional mess, everyone else first I am last, GOTTA MAKE SURE EVERYONE ELSE IS HAPPY AT THE EXPENSE OF MY SLEEP/SANITY/TIME/ENERGY, is the sounding board for all family members, soaks in criticism like a sponge not allowing her distain for it to show, is mom upset, what is body language and tone saying, over analyzing EVERYTHING, etc.

They stand face to face inside my mind, both yelling instructions and demanding I listen to them over the other.

 They hold a gun at each other, only one can make it out of this duel alive. 

Only one. 

Neither of them pull the trigger. 

For I think we are all waiting until the day comes that I am tired of being who I am, and become who I wish to be. 

That day will be a reckoning that will free me and anger others. 

But until that day, the women will continue to stand face to face, each willing the other to dare strike first but neither doing so. 

The tensions will rise until I snap. 

Then we shall see who rises from the ashes. 

#It’s that older sister mindset #I’m telling you #all older sisters are either bitter #depressed #anxious #Happy (but withholding all negative emotions) #Or a secret third thing (all of the above) #Ask any older sister and she will look like you just asked her about her time in the war #She’ll have flashbacks of times she won’t share #And she’ll try and give you some bullshit about how she never felt that way #Imma tell you right now #She’s lying to you bb #older sister #eldest sister #poems #poetry #spilled poetry #Trauma #oldest daughter issues #A mother’s love #More like a mother’s emotional dump site

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

Grief

We're all grieving.

Some grieve for others,

some grieve for themselves,

and some of us, we grieve for humanity. 

#poetry #grief poetry #humanity #poems on tumblr #poems #poetscommunity #poetsandwriters #poets on tumblr

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

That moment when you can relate to

"Haunted by the look in my eyes that would have loved you for a lifetime,"

#one sided love #when you fell in love alone #fall in love alone #happiness taylor swift #taylor swift #evermore #legit crying myself to sleep over this #pls yall im so fucking lonely #i feel like my lungs are closing in on themselves and no one sees it #like Tarquin from acotar is drowning me while on dry land

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

I beg the skies, where are you? Why can’t you love me? Love me as I so desperately wish you would. Instead, I sit alone and sweat in the night, waking from nightmares where I never find you or you never love me. My pain crushes me like a fist, squeezing the last bit of life and hope left in my lungs as I cry out to God and ask him to bring you to me. Teenage hood is supposed to be magical. It’s supposed to fill you with wonder and hope for your future. But instead, mine is ripping my heart out again and again as my prayers go unanswered that we could meet and you could hold me. Hold me in your arms where nothing wrong can happen. Nothing sexual, just intimate as you cradle me, wordlessly admitting your love for me. Silently screaming how you wish to protect me from all evil. But I wrap my arms around myself, the cold still groping at my shivering body. The images of our heated love keep my mind drowning in a trance while frostbite claims my fingers and my toes become hard as marble. I read my books and listen to my music, both written about unending love and women I grow jealous of as the days drag on. I read and I listen to them as I dream of a beautiful soft love while my nightmares are nothing but screams and tears, bloodshed and abandonment. How many more tick marks must I carve into my walls until you are here to warm my frozen form? How long until I am too cold to be thawed and I spend eternity in ice, never knowing your touch? I pray every night that that day will never come, yet it continues its way to me on my calendar. My memories are filled with love, but only given from my ever-bleeding heart. My soul cries out to receive your love, though you walk this earth as a stranger and know nothing of me. My spirit screams and rages to keep it from breaking at the loneliness. I fear one day I shall split in two like a piece of glass. And if I’m ever repaired it will be evident by my many scars. How long must I wait until you lace your fingers in mine and kiss every scar, both the healed and the freshly bloodied? I keep asking you, how long? How long? Because I’ve grown tired of asking myself. I cannot ask my friends, they know not of my desperate cries in the night while they slumber. But now the frost is making its way to me. My naked body is flooding with chills. Not a stitch of clothing is keeping my heart warmed. Keeping it beating. Hurry my love, I am becoming frozen even now. Please come and warm me. Before I am too far gone and worth nothing more to you than a statue. Come love me. Hold me. Wherever you are. It’s cold.

"How do i miss someone I've never met?" By A.E

#poets on tumblr #poetic #poetry #love poem #romance poetry #starving for love #praying for love #i wish to spill my poems #i beg of you #i miss someone i've never met

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

she may have been broken, but when a broken gun fires, you still duck.

“I may forgive but I will never forget” by A.E

#Broken #poems #poetry #spilled poetry #spilled ink #i wish to spill my poems #poems on tumblr #Hurt poetry #emotional abuse #my abuser may be broken but I still don’t have to excuse what she did #Emotional abuser #emotionally abused #tw emotional neglect #emotional neglect

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

I wish you would regret the way we ended.

“Like I do.” By A.E

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

It’s hard to grieve someone whose heart is still beating

“True heartache” by A.E

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

I think you tainted me.

I am definitely different after you.

But I don’t think I mind.

I am changed from how I used to be, but I think for the better.

You gave me a gaze to look at myself with that isn’t tolerance or hatred.

I could look at myself like you did and see someone beautiful and worth wasting time for.

Perhaps this is all God meant for us to be.

A breather for each other.

You were my gasp of fresh air.

You taught me what it felt like to trust someone.

How I can open up my most vulnerable bits of self to someone else and be okay.

So while yes I do regret the way we ended.

How it was abrupt, brutal and felt like my own heart being ripped out without warning.

But I won’t wish we never met.

I would rather never move on from this pain than not know what your love felt like.

I was broken when we met.

As were you.

But I left this tragedy we called love a little more whole than before.

I just hope that you took with you a piece of me from this broken, shattered thing that was us.

I surely took a piece of you.

I hope you don’t mind.

#poems #spilled poetry #i wish to spill my poems #romance poetry #poems on tumblr #spilled ink #poetry #love poetry #love poems #romance #relationship #now we're just two people who once had something beautiful reduced to a thumbs up on each other's posts #relationship poems #first love poem

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

Girlie is leaving a real fuckin’ legacy

Taylor so casually said the words "it tells the story of girlhood calcifying into a bruised version of adulthood" as if it isn't the perfect encapsulation of a large majority of her career... I actually gasped

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

He drops us at the door of the arcade. I clutch my backpack and zip up my sister’s jacket.

“I’ll be back later”

Is all he says before he speeds off, leaving us cold and alone on the doorstep.

We walk in, our thoughts forced to succumb to the blasting music with unintelligible lyrics and way, way too much bass. I can feel my eardrums vibrate as we walk through the crowd.

I clutch my sister’s hand while multicolored lights flash and blink all around us. She looks at me with fear in her eyes then back at the tokens in her hand.

“Daddy said we can play, right?”

I nod, looking around for anything out of the ordinary. We walk around playing dumb little games and winning small trinkets that will break by the time we get home.

My sister grins wildly, too distracted by the game to worry. My brain is wild with anxieties.

Dad said he’ll be back soon.

I usher us to the bathroom, applying lipstick and mascara that I found in my bag.

Older, more responsible people wear makeup. Right?

I wonder as I apply it. I rummage through the bag again to find glitter that, much to my chagrin, gets adorned onto my sisters lids.

After my makeover I look in the mirror at my clothing. Im wearing a t-shirt with my favorite cartoon character on it and comfortable leggings.

This won’t work.

I think to myself. I tie the edge of my shirt into a knot. On the way in the bathroom I had seen a lot of girl’s wearing their shirts this way. They are older and their parents let them be alone in arcades too. So surely this is the fashion of responsible girls.

Then I glance at my hair. It’s been tied back in a small bun. My mother’s style. I take the band out and run my fingers through it, pulling through the knots.

There. I look older. More like someone who is allowed to be in charge. Less like a little girl.

We walk out of the bathroom, my sister’s hands itching to play more video games. I spend the rest of my night hunched over my sister, glaring at anyone who looks at her too long.

I feel as if I’ve grown talons, ready to claw our way to safety if necessary. I walk a little taller to appear older and do my hardest to look casual. As if I’m not 13 years old being left alone to watch after a child.

I’m still a child myself.

#poems #spilled poetry #i wish to spill my poems #poems on tumblr #spilled ink #poetry #sister love #not my story #the life of someone else

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

I have gained a habit of checking my heart rate lately.

When I do my morning stretches it reaches 107.

When I’m reading my favorite book it sits at 98.

When I’m deep in sleep it is regularly 70

When I think of you it crawls to 110.

When I see your latest post it jumps to 114

When I converse with you in my post’s comments it ratchets to 129

When I’m crying in my room, missing you it beats a steady 80.

And when I remember I can’t have you, that we can’t even see each other or have a phone call, my heart feels ripped from my chest, as if someone took a spoon and carved it out.

At that point it’s probably 120, but it feels like 0

#poems #spilled poetry #romance poetry #i wish to spill my poems #poems on tumblr #spilled ink #poetry #love poetry #love poems #romance #heartbreak poetry #heart rate #heartrate #Fitbit #heart rate monitor #thinking of someone #thinking of them

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

i had a friend who i got very close to in the early fall, late summer months, who somehow learned me better than i did myself. 

He reminded me to breathe. 

Quite literally. 

Sometimes when I’m focusing very hard I take very shallow breaths and need to take a deep breath after a while. 

One time we were hanging out on video chat, playing an online game and he just very casually said “hey, you need to breathe” and went on playing the game.

I don't know how he knew. 

I never asked. 

But now we don't speak. 

I often wonder if he has ever had someone remind him to breathe. 

And i also wonder if i’ll ever be able to find someone who will learn me so poetically. 

#i lost a friend #i lost what i thought was going to be the one dumbass who was going to stick around forever #but now a public BeReal comment is the deepest we can communicate #and we hardly ever IF ever actually do it #and its never anything deep or meaningful #not like how it used to be #now we're just two people who once had something beautiful reduced to a thumbs up on each other's posts #sad #pov #storytime #sad story #personal story

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

The intimacy of having someone remember something about you that you didn't expect them to. 

The intimacy of having someone memorize your order for coffee or boba. 

The intimacy of having someone read a book because you recommended it. 

The intimacy of having someone listen to an artist or song because you suggested it. 

The intimacy of having someone remind you to do things that you regularly forget to do.  

The intimacy of someone remembering something you said in passing many conversations ago.

The intimacy of someone absentmindedly entwining their fingers in yours, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The intimacy of sending someone an ootd pic and them hyping you up.

The intimacy of someone listening to you rant about the most random things.

The intimacy of someone ranting with you about a common interest.

The intimacy of someone saying they thought of you when they saw your favorite color or song, etc.

The intimacy of just having someone so caught up by you, that they follow your simplest wishes just to see a smile on your face or to hear your laughter. 

Because intimacy isn’t always romantic.

Intimacy is being able to be vulnerable with someone and feeling safe and loved.

#intimacy #goals #poets on tumblr #writers and poets #writers on tumblr #writers and readers #poetsandwriters #poets and writers #spilled poetry #spilled ink #poem #i wish to spill my poems

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

My mother believes herself to have ownership of her anger.

She does not care to see her wrath simmer in my eyes when she tells me something that upsets me.

She does not care to see her rage bubble in my veins when someone hurts me.

She does not care to see her fury so plainly displayed on my features.

She does not care to see her anger mirrored in me.

#poems #poetry #spilled poetry #spilled ink #i wish to spill my poems #poems on tumblr #poets and writers #poetscorner #poetscommunity #poetsandwriters #writers and readers #anger #mothers anger #wrath #fury #rage #oldest daughter #eldest daughter

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

Is Summer not composed of blinding heat, scalding temperatures, tall grass needing cutting, blistering seats and far too humid nights?

But is summer not also made up of laughter, strawberry juice dripping down your chin, picnics, time spent with family and friends and freedom?

Is Winter not the product of dead flowers and trees, blustery days, freezing underneath many layers, and things being shattered because of the cold?

But is winter not also crafted of warm drinks, hot soups, snuggly blankets, board games, pretty scarves, flowing coats and late nights spent reading?

If the seasons can have their simultaneous good and bad, are you not also entitled?

“Every day you will feel many things, it is up to you to search for the good.” by A.E

(Inspired by @heavywaterorange)

#poems #poetry #spilled poetry #spilled ink #i wish to spill my poems #poems on tumblr #poets and writers #poetscorner #poetscommunity #poets on tumblr #writers and readers #writers on tumblr #seasons #summer #winter #good and bad

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

I almost hate listening to music now.

It’s too bittersweet.

You showed me so many songs and learned my favorites that now when I listen to them I hear your voice singing along with me.

I hear you singing “Ivy” as I try to sleep.

I hear you humming to “August” as I put my clothes away or vacuum my floor.

I hear your grin while you serenade me with “Love story”

I hear you tell me that this will be our story when “paper rings” plays.

I’ve got a whole damn playlist filled with songs I can’t hear.

I can't listen to them anymore because you are in them.

Your voice singing along.

Your comments on the artistry or the tune.

Just your fucking presence is carved in their melodies and I cannot listen to my favorite songs anymore.

You're fucking haunting me.

Excerpts from letters you’ll never receive.

#poems #spilled poetry #i wish to spill my poems #poems on tumblr #spilled ink #poetry #hurt poetry #heartbreak poetry #songs I can’t listen to #music #music that hurts #Taylor swift #paper rings #Ivy #August #love story

[lonelypoetandiknowit]

I can’t fucking talk to you at all and I feel like I'm suffocating and I hate it.

Im being smothered in abandonment.

I’m drowning in a lack of you and it’s not a small pool it’s a whole motherfucking ocean.

I hate feeling like this.

I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

I’m tempted to hate you too.

But I can't bring myself to do it.

Excerpts from letters you’ll never receive.

#poems #spilled poetry #i wish to spill my poems #poems on tumblr #spilled ink #poetry #hurt poetry #heartbreak poetry #lonely poetry #drowning without you