Tumgik
#poets of ig
theaddictspoetry · 2 years
Text
What will you do when the party ends? When the drugs run out, and you're all in your head? At 3 AM with nothing and no body left, All cause of some fun, some escape we didn't realize would end.
-addiction took everything from me, but never again.
@theaddictspoetry
169 notes · View notes
macieles · 11 months
Quote
how kind of my mother to pass on to me all of her birthmarks: the one on her right hip, the other inside her right thigh. the shape of her smile, the depth of her sadness. the lack of self worth enough to last us generations. the love for the women who came before and whoever comes next; who bear the same mark on their right hip and the spot inside their right thigh. the same downward tilt of the lips  and the awarness of their own faults that verges on false fabrications of the mind. i long for my mother's peace. i wish that by passing them down she could be rid of them. i'd bear the entire burden on my own if it meant she got to exhale for the first time in her life.
e.m. inheritance.
45 notes · View notes
Text
I don’t want to be like you
I feel myself changing
I lose myself more every day
You broke me
How can there be good in a world where you exist
I am losing faith in good
I don’t want to turn bitter
I don’t want to be like you
5 notes · View notes
poetryshewrote · 1 year
Text
a betrayal
you are nothing to me
just a sad memory,
of someone i knew
or had begun to,
but they didn't exist,
now i just reminisce,
on the days when we lay,
and just wasted the day,
skin touching skin
oh what could've been.
now you're nothing to me.
just some sad memory.
41 notes · View notes
abrighterspark · 2 years
Text
emotions make more sense
tumbled on the page...
fear is less intense
when the pen believes you brave
48 notes · View notes
presselle · 1 year
Text
again, until you tire of me | 02272023
Tumblr media
Follow me on IG.
16 notes · View notes
tinajaxen · 1 year
Quote
I have the world on the tip of my tongue – a shaking tale afraid to be bothered. Nothing is found at the shore at last, if only the need to vanish with a kind soul and the stormiest minute of time. You say that all is good and fair, but from up here, the look of love, it hangs like a thundering night; I am caught up in this cruel sight! So, what is love then? It only ends in gloom I see – covering the self in a whirlwind of torment. I wish I had a safe thought that could shine – a moment and a not too mean drought. The world and the love must walk together, despite the muting of my despair. I cannot love with doubt on my mind; I cannot cry with these cold thoughts. But then, who owns the perfect illusion? Love is a one-sided sigh and a senseless crowd mocking the rushing winds of the heart. So, one life must wish for a deaf sea; the swift, melted audience mirroring another.
The World And The Love, by Tina Jaxen 
27 notes · View notes
bell-honey-well · 1 year
Text
Am I afraid?
I ask myself
Everyday.
If I get it,
Can I keep it
Like a gift?
Is it pretty
On the inside,
Too? Does it
Come with
Flaws? Can I
Return it
If I decide
I don't want
It? What's the
Cost? Will I
Love it? Can you
Promise me?
Do I want it?
Should I fear it?
Should I have it?
Do I deserve
It? Do I?
9 notes · View notes
Text
Forget typical words of affirmation "I'm gonna miss you" . I want someone to say "Abhi na jao chhod kar, Ke dil abhi bhara nahi".
Tumblr media
16 notes · View notes
adlettres · 11 months
Quote
i adore this form of silence it is a delicate rest under the pale sky and red moon, i feel as if i were redirected to somewhere, soft.
admer balingan, excerpt from fish deprived, “over the window” p. 89.
2 notes · View notes
becauseyouredead · 2 years
Text
Love is an onion ring. I know that may sound strange. A big crispy succulent battered onion. The best looking one on the plate. The type that's almost the same size as your face. The perfect ratio of crunchiness to juiciness, to make it just right. Usually, I would save it until last, get all of the mediocre onion rings out of the way. So I could savour the taste, slowly enjoy every delicious bite. When I think about how great it's going to be, how lovely it will be to eat. I realize there is something better than eating it myself; I want you to have the small moment of joy. When I realised that love is just an onion ring, These feelings finally started to make sense.
9 notes · View notes
eefrostpoetry · 1 year
Quote
i can't lie sometimes my soul cries during those lonely nights where all i want is you
6 notes · View notes
macieles · 11 months
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
someone loved me once. e.m.
8 notes · View notes
likewedream · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
If I Had Three Lives
After “Melbourne” by the Whitlams
by Sarah Russell
If I had three lives, I’d marry you in two.
The other? Perhaps that life over there
at Starbucks, sitting alone, writing — a memoir,
maybe a novel or this poem. No kids, probably,
a small apartment with a view of the river,
and books — lots of books, and time to read.
Friends to laugh with, and a man sometimes,
for a weekend, to remember what skin feels like
when it’s alive. I’d be thinner in that life, vegan,
practice yoga. I’d go to art films, farmers markets,
drink martinis in swingy skirts and big jewelry.
I’d vacation on the Maine coast and wear a flannel shirt
weekend guy left behind, loving the smell of sweat
and aftershave more than I did him. I’d walk the beach
at sunrise, find perfect shell spirals and study pockmarks
water makes in sand. And I’d wonder sometimes
if I’d ever find you.
IMAGE: “Woman writing” by Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema (1902).
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: It’s tempting to think about the road not taken. But for me, it always leads back to the man I love and married many years ago.
4 notes · View notes
poetryshewrote · 1 year
Text
a swordsman
such a skilled swordsman, the best i've seen yet.
with your lovely green eyes that i wont soon forget,
made a plan to murder this heart and carried it out,
a plan i knew not a thing about.
you swept me away, all part of your scheme.
meanwhile i slept, thought you were a dream.
with surgical precision you cut it away
leaving me empty, hollow, and betrayed.
in my heart's place is the ghost of a man
that never existed and now never can.
41 notes · View notes
abrighterspark · 1 year
Text
he's adorably oblivious to my everlasting crush... what once was admiration has since been turned to lust
but i'm suffering in silence knowing once won't be enough because should we ever cross that line it would, no doubt, turn into love
37 notes · View notes