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#melancholydew
melancholydew · 1 year
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i think i need to talk about crushing grief in your formative years. because you're a child one day and the loss takes with them the child you were. because when the mourning is done, when the tears stop flowing, and a scar is left in the soul that barely just heals with time and is cracked open and bleeds poison at the slightest nudge.
5 years down the line, after the most tranquil evening, you wake up breathless as the newfound freshness of the loss hits you like a bullet shot afresh.
8 years down the line and the evening sunset brings you the memory of the wise old hands that held your unknowing ones and walked you to school and you realize that you're losing your grip on the memory of the voice that taught you how to add numbers. and you crumble once more. your grief is new and fresh once more. you realize you'll never heal. you'll realize, you don't want to, because to heal is to forget and you want to keep their memory alive and breathing.
i smile on my way to the library remembering the song he used to sing. i feel him in my heart and i keep him close.
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studyforyourself · 4 years
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-> This post by @endymionstudies is also going aroud, you can find more (actually a ton haha) there! 
If you want to be added to the list (or removed of course!), feel free to message me! 
Caroline 💗  (My Instagram, Snapchat: caroline _sd) 
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inkstained · 5 years
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books to read in 2019
tagged by @oheliotts thank you !! 
my 10 books are:
human acts by han kang
all for the game (#2 & 3) by nora sakavic
the picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde
the goldfinch by donna tartt
if we were villians by m.l. rio
vicious by v.e. schwab
death by todd may
six of crows by leigh bardugo 
slaughterhouse five by kurt vonnegut 
literature books for school (elizabeth jennings poetry collection + playing for time by arthur miller)
i tag: @whereicarusfell , @dracos , @eunoiaschaos , @psoiedon , @melancholydew , @anniesdiarynl & anyone else who wants to do it !
also, i took the list i made at the start of the year so im actually alr done with 1. & 2. (loved them both to death) & im halfway through 3. !
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melancholydew · 4 years
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[ 22 . 4 . 2019 , 2007 ]
sitting with my guitar cradled in my lap , the once - familiar feeling of its curves and edges i had aligned myself to feels heartbreakingly alien. as i strummed softly i felt the metallic scent of the strings hit me like a pang of nostalgia, i realised the dents in my fingers hurt more than they had in a long time, like they'd never known the touch and bite of a string before. the notes came out distorted and i cursed myself for giving up on something that could've made me happy, could've offered me a safe haven. i realised it's not the first thing i let go of. and now i'm just sitting with my barren heart spilling on the sheet music, hurting with the loss of all the things i let go of that could've been special.
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melancholydew · 4 years
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[ 15 . 5 . 2020 , 2000 ]
the hate they've weaved into the word runs down my throat and chills my spine. just one word, one slur and the blatant hate that they must hold in their heart for my people and i crashes down on me and threatens to choke me to death. 'i don't mean no harm' they say, and continue wielding that word as a weapon to scar us little by little till we bleed out. till we're lifeless. till we raise our unique voices no more. it breaks me think that someone can hate us enough to use our entire identities as an insult, to treat our whole community as a nuisance, to try to break us when we did nothing but love, others and ourselves. maybe the rainbow scares them, maybe it makes them jealous because we know ourselves better then they ever did. all i know is that this part of me is something i've learnt to accept and love and i will not stand for someone to make me want to cut it out of my heart with a blade and some tears again.
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melancholydew · 4 years
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[ 23. 05 .2020 ; 0104 ]
शायद आसमान ‌में उड़ने के ख्वाब देखने से ‌पहले मुझे ‌इनसान और परिंदे के बीच फर्क सीख जाना चाहिए था। - t
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melancholydew · 4 years
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[ 26 . 4 . 2020 ; 0027 ]
warm blood rushing across cold, bare skin. the tick-tock of the clock counts yet another second i haven't been able to breathe, too loud in this silence. too fucking loud. fingertips crawling across skin as if assessing it; where is the best place to tear it apart with just my fingernails ? how do i bleed out the poison in my heart and the broken glass in my lungs ? how do i fucking breathe again ?
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melancholydew · 4 years
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[ 18 . 4 . 2020 ; 2159 ]
we were sitting in a mess of limbs and tears , tangled in a trap of interlocked fingers and bruised hearts and sometime after we took our mattress and our souls to the night sky to admire the stars, i kissed you because you were the brightest one there. stardust fell and dusted your cheeks and you smiled as you pressed your lips to mine once again , counting heartbeats as if guided by a metronome. lemongrass blended into the air and seeped into our skins and your fingertips were ablaze and i could just sit , entranced as you lit my skin on fire, inch by inch. you rested your head on my shoulder and let me weave the stars into your hair. i told you i loved you. i think you said the same.
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melancholydew · 4 years
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[4 . 4 . 2020 , 0138 ]
it's all coming crashing down on me. the tears broke the ceiling and the screams brought down the walls and the curtains wrapped around my neck and i just lay in the debris, heart cracked open , bleeding poison . the picture i put up so carefully on the wall, running my fingertips over it's grooves and edges till just a touch could bring it's vibrant reality to my mind; now lies clawed across the middle by nails that might have been mine. the shards of the broken frame pierced holes in it till it bled colour and cried dreams. scraps of wastepaper with poetry bordering the headlines lie scattered on the floor, blood soaking them deeper than the ink ever could. reality shook the foundations of the house built on dreams and held together with pixie dust and lit up by liquid moonlight so completely that now not even the remnants of the magic of the land of dreams could ever hope to envision beauty because there's a stark difference between the neons of hopes and the dull hues of actuality but a dreamer is colorblind till the colours that have decorated their souls with lethal paper cuts bring them a taste of fiery reality , like vodka in reverse. it's freaking icarus all over again.
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melancholydew · 4 years
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i feel like im stuck somewhere where reality lulls me to sleep. its not it's relief that makes me numb and loose but just the sheer dullness that slowly tears at my soul, little by little, till the fire is quenched and the light has fused and the little dreams have dimmed into vague memories. the wanderer screams, the traveller aches, the romantic yearns and the poet dies. this monotony kills me. little by little. piece by piece.
~t
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melancholydew · 4 years
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2244, 04102019 ;
my heart shakes and my soul cries as the pain of the shock waves still reverbrates in my ears. i'm trying to count on my fingers all the promises i crossed my heart and swore to keep, and i run out of fingers. and i'm terrified that i will run out of time too. ~t
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melancholydew · 5 years
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i could taste pixie dust on my tongue
and feel glitter on my skin
and there were constellations at my feet
and galaxies filled my lungs
and the sky was all the brightest hues, and more
and i could feel a piece of the night in my soul
i could feel alive. ~t
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melancholydew · 5 years
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1935, 17102019 ;
dreams and fantasies and the allure they hold; sometimes i think they're meant just to be contained in a screen, shared by pretty people learning pretty lessons smiling pretty smiles. dreams shimmering so glamorously that they belong only to the ones who shine just as bright. i swallow the stardust and punch holes in my soul and scar my heart little by little till it's too numb and the yearning hurts no more. because i know that, with the faded scars within and darkness deepening when you scratch the surface, i do not fit the description. -t
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melancholydew · 5 years
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091019, 2225 ;
the tears aren't the liquid of release and the screams aren't the sounds of healing and the faint scars aren't a battle i won and the pain in my chest isn't the ache of love and the ink-stained heart isn't a warrior and my demons' rise isn't the sliver of hope and i am nothing. i am nothing, but broken.
-t
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melancholydew · 5 years
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2211, 02102019
"no happiness is big or small. its just us, being greedy. it stops us from enjoying all the happiness life has to give us with gratitude and satisfaction."
its been a year since i first heard these words but the weight they held just sank in the last time i was navigating the voids opening up inside of me with tears.
so maybe i'll try. so maybe i'll find beauty in the patter of raindrops on a glum day. so maybe i'll find comfort in the scent of the pages of an old book. so maybe i'll find smiles of my own in those of the people who hold pieces of my heart. so maybe i'll find a home in the colourful hues of the world around me. so maybe, i'll hold on. -t
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melancholydew · 5 years
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1800, 22102019 ;
i'm tired. tired of carrying around this heavy heart, trying to draw attention from cheeks marred with tears with a smile brighter and more unreal than the kind of release i dream of. ~t
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