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#is this poetry?
unoriginalsins · 5 months
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if my own father cannot love me, my own blood and bones, then who will?
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abyssalbest · 4 months
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One day I’ll lay on the ocean floor and sleep. There the sand will be soft. The sun will be warm. The water will be cool on my skin.
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littlemisslikestoread · 5 months
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I have always wanted to capture the way I saw the world in a particular moment. No matter how trivial the thing would be. The wind blowing my hair on an autumn afternoon. Playing songs on a loop on a summer night.You know. Stop time, and encase minutes coalesced with yearning for peace and lost nostalgia, into an infinite forever.
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stinkman007 · 11 months
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i want to draw but i want to write but i should play guitar but then again maybe i should develop what to write but i should also write a song and i also want to go back to bed and i think maybe i should finish that thing i need to finish but i need to finish my conversation first and i wonder if i'll still have time for cleaning and laundry and redecorating and rearranging and maybe i should make a cup of tea and have a little treat after and oh that reminds me i want to draw
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dino-boyo-agere · 7 months
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Playground
on a swing
going "whoosh, whoosh!!"
down a slide
going "weeeeeh!!"
jumping the tires
going "boing, boing!!"
on a Merry-go-round
going "swoshhhh!!"
swinging on the monkey bars
going "ook-ook! eeek-aak-eek!!"
up the climbing frame
going "hyah, yeh, hue!"
crossing the wiggling bridge
going "wwhoooaahh!!"
on the playground
going "haha, hihi, hehe!!"
being small!
having fun!
being you!
.・。»・⁠°✧❗I don't consent to NSFW interaction❗✧°・«。・.
.゚。.・.*.゚☆❗only interact if your blog is SFW❗☆ ゚.*.・. 。゚.
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Ok so what do we think about the fact that in John’s song "(just like) starting over" he might be referencing to Paul three times just in one verse
“it’s time to spread out WINGS and fly, don’t let ANOTHER DAY go by, MY LOVE, it will be just like starting over"
Is he hinting at something?
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i wonder what you think of me.
we used to talk so much.
were you pushing yourself to do it?
why don't you talk as much now?
i remember how important texting first was to you, you mentioned it once as we talked of something.
ive texted first at least ten times in the past week.
i remember your reasons. i remember your silence.
is talking to me too hard now?
i remember you saying that you were really sure now that you didnt want to date anyone at all, that trying had only messed you up.
i hate the thought that ive ever hurt you, with anything i've ever done.
the thought sticks like a choking cough.
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longfaceknowsnobounds · 57 minutes
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I was shitting, and I remembered how brie cheese is going extinct. I'm not sure if this is scientifically correct, so any cheese experts feel free to correct me
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waywardwritesstuff · 13 days
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I gotta stay high all the time
To keep you off my mind
But instead it
Would you get high with me
So when I wake up you are the only thing I remmeber
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ctrlallbookishthings · 7 months
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Cats.
I never was a cat person.
Why?
I don’t have a reason. Maybe it was because I grew up with dogs only and I was taught that cats were “evil”.
Maybe?
This cat is not evil. She is pure.
Pure.
I love her. She is the best cat I could have saved from the humane society.
She is sweet, loving, independent, goofy, innocent.
The list could go on.
I’m a cat person now; because of you.
Meet, Finlay. 🖤
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lindwurmkai · 1 year
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Cringe culture is dead.
Just make sure to be normal about your interests, will you?
Cringe culture is dead, but some of you are mentally ill in the wrong way and need to cut that out.
Cringe culture is dead. Except when a man wears a dress and—
Except when a man—
The only thing that's truly cringe is bigotry.
Now stop calling everything ableism or it'll be your own fault if no one listens.
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shaunashoochiebae · 6 hours
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i put on my headphones
and higher up the volume
i look at my arm
the pained one
my scars are faded now
still there, less so
i look to the little black box
i know exactly what’s inside
my pain, my relief
i long for it
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kydeliusofevirwinter · 4 months
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You and I sit patiently
Cross-legged on the floor
A pomegranate in my palms.
Carefully quartered and ripe,
I rip it to pieces to share.
I dig my claws in to carefully
And meticulously
Separate the seeds from
Its bitter white flesh.
My hands stain burgundy
And yours remain clean.
Sickly sweet blood drips
Onto my neat
Pressed brown slacks
And the grass leaves marks
On your old blue jeans.
I feed you handfuls
Of juicy red arils.
You suck off the flesh
And spit out the seeds.
My brother,
I will always love you,
I proclaim
As I wipe
Your face away of stain.
I pray you never see
The cruelty
Of the world.
And when you
Are much older
I hope you peel
My nectarine
And separate its
Bitter white flesh
From its ripe fruit.
When you are
Much wiser
I hope you kiss me
On both my cheeks
And swallow the seeds
Of your fruit.
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karmazballz · 3 months
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i don't know why i expected you to miss me like i miss you, the sun never needed the moon the way the moon needed her
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melonsap · 2 years
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My relationship with superstition is strange. I like it for the wrong reasons.
Do I think carrying an acorn around will save me from bad happenings? No. But I would like to carry a little acorn around. For the sake of having a little acorn.
Maybe the luck is for the acorn huh
Maybe it's lucky I picked it up and am going to put it somewhere and plant it
Maybe I wanna carry its legacy as a golden charm once I do that
You don’t know
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so im left with my heart in my hands
left out past its due
it'll sew back in
though not unchanged
(for i am not the most talented at sewing)
as all things are liable to leave it
i whisper a wish that the dust dissolves soon
and vibrant liquid red pours once again
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