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ivymaniae · 7 months

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#aesthetic #poetry #poetandwriters #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing #original poem #original writing #spilled ink #exerpt from a story i'll never write #spilled words #visual poetry #brokensoulsupload #brokensoulsreborn #tumblrpic

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kidgillis · 11 months

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Darling, you don't have to pretend with me. You don't have to hide your emotions or thoughts. I know depression is hard to deal with and healing from trauma reopens a lot of scars. However, no matter how low or bad you might feel, you have to know this truth - Darling, I love you and I'll always be here, even if you don't want me too. See, I want to hear about your day, what you're into, and what you're doing. I want to be present with you during your happiest and saddest moments - ready to pick you up or push you forward. I want to dwell with you when you feel abandoned or alone - just as much as I want to spend time with you laughing and having fun. I want to comfort you with the warmest embrace or simply hold your hand, if you'll allow. I want to wipe away your tears just as much as I want to make you smile. I want to make you all of your favorite foods and watch all of your favorite series...even those that I hate. I want to cuddle up - being the big or little spoon, as long as you're with me. I don't care if you ugly cry or throw a fit of rage - we can destory the world together and clean up the mess late - when we're ready. And, If we have to sit in silence, we can do that too. We don't have to talk about anything you're not ready too. But, if you do want to talk - you can vent or completely consume me with your twisted thoughts and rambling words. For you, I have all the time in the world. When I'm with you - I'm home. There's no where else to go. There's no other place I'd rather be. Beloved, you are so important to me and I know, sometimes...it's hard for you to accept or receive that truth from me but, I'll continue to prove myself and reassure you - as long as it takes. I love you. God, I love you so much. I'd do anything for you - except three things. I won't dishonor you, your love, or your trust. Which means, I won't let you harm, end, or mistreat yourself. You can pretend that you're fine and that life isn't a mess with the world. But, when your with me, you can forget the facade and break into million pieces. I'll be here through it all.

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n1mmii · 1 year

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you feel like poetry

it’s 4 am,

it’s just you and me in the entirety of the universe.

everyone else turned into clouds,

now they're falling as rain.

i wake up in your arms,

just how i fell asleep in them.

i feel you breathing,

i feel your heart beat against mine,

i feel you dreaming,

i feel your hair tangled with mine.

you keep me so close,

so close that our souls almost touch each other,

so close that your skin feels like mine,

so close that we might not even be different people,

so close that we might be one.

your voice,

your goddamn voice.

the haze in your voice,

the way you say the words,

the way you carve those words in my soul,

you have no idea about the things your voice does to me.

you’re in your olive green sweater,

i’m unclothed,

but i’m not cold,

you’re all the warmth i need.

i slide on top of you,

you caress my hair,

your fingers tangled with them.

you don't fight them,

you stay there,

tangled,

with me.

you, feel like poetry.

you’re smiling,

the wrinkle on the corner of your eye,

the soft dimple on the corner of your lips,

you kiss me,

you taste like cigarettes.

davidoff cigarettes, the ones you like.

i place my hands under your sweater,

i can feel your body.

i close my eyes,

i take it all in,

feel it in my soul,

then carve your scars onto it.

you’re looking at me,

looking at me feel you,

your eyes are partially closed,

but your smile,

baby your smile’s so big.

you, you feel like poetry.

your hands touch my waist,

go straight up to that deepest point,

they stay there,

mold themselves in me,

decorate themselves around me,

like they belong there,

like they’ve found home,

“please never leave.”

“i want to sing for you” you say,

“i only have one heart, please have mercy on me” i say

with my hands taking your sweater off.

you sing “sunsetz” by cigarettes after sex

my heart skips a million beats.

my hands tremble,

my soul quivers,

just at the sound of your voice.

your hands are so big,

i would fit just right inside the palm of your hands.

you’d carry me,

you’d take me home,

you’d keep me,

you’d look at me and say that you own me.

it would be an honor,

beautiful beautiful boy,

to be owned by you.

because you,

you feel like poetry.

#writerscreed #creedrescue #poetryriot #twcpoetry #brokensoulsuploads #poetrypardy #electricexhibition #poetryportal #proseriot #abstractcommunity #illustrans #re-bumbleblossoms

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rabperryleaf · 1 year

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what major depressive disorder looks like

It is with a heavy heart that I return to this page, sorrow in tow instead of poetry. It sinks into my bones, the feeling a blanket, soft in it’s approach and warm in it’s presence. It is not the feelings associated that I have trouble with, or the sensations they bring, a kind of heavy tiredness, no it is the realizations of what it means. It is the fabric of the blanket itself. Despair, hatred, and a sense of helplessness that seems to never fully fade or present itself. It’s like a white whale, there in a second, taunting me with it’s presence, aware that I am pointedly trying to forget it. But before the whale can have any true impact on my life, any true repercussions, It flees, under the water for all the world to see but me. Maybe the white whale has its own problems, and it plays the same game with me. Maybe the whale wishes i would flee too, maybe it sees the harpoon and instead of taunting me there is genuine fear it its eyes. It wants to see another day, live under another sun than the one on it’s back now. Maybe it flees into the water to avoid it’s inevitable end. The day I pull the trigger on the harpoon. The day I am no longer helpless. But the longer the whale and I play this game of tug and war the more the whale wins. The more it spends its days in the sun, myself in it’s spell. My feelings warring over each other trying to find it in me to kill the whale. But if there is a trigger to the harpoon then I do not know it. Every day that goes by, i become more convinced the trigger was never built in. maybe I hallucinated and a trigger is not a part of a harpoon. Maybe there are 8 billion boats just like mine, drifting in the sea, at battle with a party that’s winning.

#poetry #spilled ink #spilled ideas #spilled poetry #new poets on tumblr #writerscreed #poetryriot #brokensoulsuploads #proseriot #abstractcommunity #pomegranatepoetry #twcpoetry #scribbled words #new poets society

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spilled-from-my-lips · 1 year

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gentle is the curse when you listen

sweet are it’s assurances to keep you

alone in the mists it’s left you in

harsh is the curse when you struggle

cutting are its demands to keep you

isolated in the fog, under the rubble.

—l.r. cole, “gentle is the curse”

#poetry #brokensoulsuploads #prompt: curse

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brokenboysoul · 1 year

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Was macht man wenn man wirklich merkt, ich habe niemanden.

Man sitzt allein da, fühlt sich von allem erdrückt und kann all deine Gedanken mit niemanden besprechen.

Keine Familie, keine Freunde.

Alles verloren für SIE.

Uhr geht es gut und ich Sitz hier verzweifelt mit jeder Situation.

Jede Zelle des Körpers schreit nur Ihren Namen.

#brokensoulsuploads #mind #o&o

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carolinedionecd · 1 year

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#emotions #text #love #broken #brokensoulsuploads #brokensoulsreborn #quote #lovequotes #life quotes #self love #self worth #know your worth #sad music

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amonochromaticsoul · 2 years

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Broken souls find beauty in everything.

#brokensoulsuploads #beauty #moon #crescent moon #aesthetic

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samannblogs · 5 months

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poetry

#spilled ink

#poets on tumblr

#twc

#newpoetssociety

#poetsoftumblr

#writers

#spilled ink

#scribbled words

#writerscreed

#creedrescue (new writers only)

#poetryriot

#twcpoetry

#brokensoulsuploads

#poetpardy

#electricexhibition

#poetryportal

#proseriot

#abstractcommunity

#illustrans

#lzlabseesu

#re-bumbleblossoms

#pomegranatepoetry

#armchairchallenge

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sincerelysharon · 4 years

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I feel like I'm writing from my shadow. Sunken, drowning with endings, filled with incompleteness. Or something of that nature.

drawing the clasp of her necklace close, your hands trailing over the gilded stones, skimming over a loose gemstone. poached pears sinking into your teeth, a honeyed coating over your tooth // archaic remains 60

#writing #poeticstories #poetryportal #blotchedpoems #daretowrite #poetsexilir #twcpoetry #poetryriot #brokensoulsupload #prose poetry #writerscreed #poetsempire #archaic remains #spilled thoughts #spilled ink #spilled words

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kidgillis · 2 years

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Let it flow. Whatever direction it wants to go. Let it go. Wherever it goes, it'll be known. Let it flow. You can't hold it in or hold it back. Let it go. This is peace. Let it flow. This is love. Let it go. This is life. Let it flow. This is home. Welcome. Welcome!

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warpnweft · 4 years

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germ

to the ones who have never lived, death is the shadow they, alone, don’t cast.

the ones in the rain not knowing they’re wet. the ones in the dark not knowing they can see. the ones in the mire not knowing why they’re tired.

the ones who eat, sleep, and breathe but have never even met themselves, who never trusted themselves over anyone else.

never being alive-- that’s what i have feared, but i see my shadow now

and i am fearless

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iloveyou-period · 4 years

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Some days I find my throat shut, my vocal chords tied, the feelings erupt from chest as I fight to speak, only finding no words escaped my locked lips. Some days I find myself with words flowing as freely as the waters of this world, but finding a damn at every exit.

At times my body feels as if the earth has reached up and surrounded my body with herself, holding me down to remind me of my connection or to put a prison around my limbs

If only I knew what she was saying

Some days she says run

And others: she tells me to stay, to bask in her beauty, to recreate her impossible wonders

Most days I find myself in a metaphorical box, cramped and wanting to stretch my soul.

#lioness x #writerscreed #my writing #mother earth #brokensoulsupload

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rabperryleaf · 1 year

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Failure

It hovers.

It waits.

It is sure that the day it’s presence will be accepted is rapidly approaching.

It stares down at the girl, her form curled tight in a ball, the covers wrapped around her like they stand a chance at protecting her, the cotton spread her best armor. She’s close, she has to be or else it would not take up so much of the room. She’s still a child, right on the cusp of adulthood, but her mind stays young. She never changed, always stagnant and proud, always trying to adapt. She thinks it will help her, this strength, she thinks it is the cure. But maybe the kids who didn’t adapt got a completely new lens. When something isn’t repairable it gets replaced, and maybe getting replaced is what everyone else experienced while she stayed the same, her wounds covered in bandaids. Every scratch leads it closer, and it has been fooled into thinking she will accept it before. But she is hard headed. She has pulled out of the darkness before.

It thinks she may be aware of its presence.

It thinks the knowledge emboldens her.

It thinks she thrives off avoiding accepting it. She doesn’t know she’s only hurting herself. She avoids its presence because she thinks it spells the end, she thinks something is over when acceptance occurs. She doesn’t know acceptance is no relief. It is only a fake promise. It is not the acceptance that changes people, it is the blindfold lifting, the ignorance dying, as they found their lives unchanged. It is the knowledge that there is nothing out to get you, nothing chasing you around as you live and exist. It is the knowledge that you are not staving off some outcome you don’t wish to accept. It is the recognition of the end, the lowest you can go, the recognition that even if there is relief in there being no further you are still well below with no plan out. The bottom is not a relief it only exists to taunt you with its looming presence.

It wonders when she’ll cave,

and the girl finds herself pondering the same question.

#poetry #spilled ink #poets on tumblr #newpoetssociety #poetsoftumblr #writers #writerscreed #proseriot #poetpardy #brokensoulsuploads #pomegranatepoetry #armchairchallenge #abstractcommunity #poetryportal

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margepoet · 4 years

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When you called that morning to apologize for the un-opened messages, I don’t say anything. A clock ticks somewhere in the room, too loud in the awkward silence.

Tick.

"Are you there?” you asked. I let three seconds pass before I respond, “Yup, I’m here,” even though I’m really not. I’m not here. I’m not with you. I’m not okay with you being far away.

- M.G.S.J

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pelicandensity · 4 years

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We Are Not Who We Think We Are

sometimes we lie

to ourselves

for protection or

to deny the inevitable

sometimes we don't

even know why

it just happens

but sooner later

we have to

deal with the

consequences

the results of

those actions

defines us

#bitsofstarglow #reblog #twc #brokensoulsupload #spilled ink poetry #poetryclub13 #poetryportal #poetryriot #poeticstories #writers on tumblr #writerscreed #writerscorner #bvr

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