#vi writes; poetry

[vi-visected]

a poem about love and teeth

#my poetry #poets on tumblr #original poetry #poems and poetry #short poem #my poem #sad poem #sad poetry #original poem #poem #poetry #vi writes; poetry #this one marks day 67 in my poem a day streak

[six-white-venus]

the worst trait of me and my family is probably this: we never learned to say the word sorry.

i) my best friend and i, we are no people. knives? maybe. liars? definitely. but people? i’m not so sure.

knives were never forged to be tender (what a shame, what a shame) and we too, fall and slay what we meant to protect. him and i, we go for the throat when we clash. we hurt and bleed and oh, i should be terrified, i should be running for my life, but all i am is tired and a bit lonely and would really like his arms around me.

( “can we please stop fighting now.”

“oh god yes please.”)

because time and time again, this man has held my heart in his hands and cleaned its festering wounds with cotton dipped in alcohol (always the healer, always the lover) and wrapped gauze around them with clinical precision. and i have walked through the maze of his head and tended to his withering garden, have dragged the sun and fresh air and all the oceans to the barren land to make it bloom (always the poet, always the lover).

him and i, we have never needed words because we are knives forged in the same fire and at the end of the day, we both know that he will be the one who wordlessly stitches my broken heart and i will be the one who sings him to sleep.

ii) let me paint you a picture:

blue that fades into red that fades into black that fades into blue that fades into red. loud, clashing and nonsensical. a pit in your stomach that was dug with desperation and blunt fingernails. how do you colour anger that is also pain, grief, hate, love, fear and truth? the smell of the paint is foul and clogs your windpipes. blunt fingernails and blue and black and madness. can you bear to look at what you created without flinching?

that’s what anger looks like on my father. a horror. a mottled bruise. a hellfire.

all his life, my father has been scorned, belittled, beaten, spat on. his mother didn’t love him right because her mother didn’t love her right. my dad loves like he hates. something is fucked in his head and heart and his words fade into black and blue and red and this shitshow always ends with me sobbing, bleeding, dying on the floor. my father watches with his hackles raised and his eyes red and wide and glowing. once wounded, an animal never sheathes its claws. it strikes the ones it loves and walks away with its head held high and hands trembling.

but here’s what happens when the curtains close: he pulls me into his arms and brings me tea. he wipes away my tears with hands that has moved mountains to make me smile. he kisses my forehead and tells me that his mom didn’t love him right. my grief is like anger and indignation and love. i wrap my arms around him and cry all the tears he never had the luxury to. who should say sorry, really? is it him or his mom or his mom’s mom or this stupid fucking world? my father has never said the word sorry. he never needed to. this is what love looks like on us. a horror. a mottled bruise. a hellfire.

iii) despite it all, i am not usually an angry person. i take after my father and my mother, after all. i rage like my mother (quick, loud, fire that burns out almost as quickly as it sparked to life) and fight like my father (aim, shoot, bullseye). my sister does something even mildly upsetting and before i know it, i’m cursing her to be miserable till she dies. not even an hour later i’m draping myself over her shoulder and bugging her till she rolls her eyes and smiles ever so slightly.

(“do you have no shame?”

“yeah no i don’t think so.”)

my family and i, we never learned to say the word sorry. because the word sorry never meant sorry, not to us. because at the end of the day, that’s all it is: a word. and it sticks to the back of my tongue and the dents of my molars and gets tangled in my mouth when i try to spit it out. so i grab it by its throat and thread it into my being. i find it so much easier to hide my pathetic inability to do one thing that doesn’t scream that there's something wrong with me with the truth of another three words:

“i love you”

and they are always echoed back to me, just a few million times more tender, in ways only we can understand.

“yeah, i know.”

“that’s great, but there’s no escaping dishes duty.”

“oh, shut up, you.”

“what’s that for?”

a pause and a hum.

“i love you too.”

#vi is back on their dysfuctionally healthy familial love agenda again #it's like. that one quote #love is a doing word #everything stems from love. everything gets its meaning because they are all doing words #maybe it's the way we've all benn raised/fucked over by the world but #saying sorry feels so.... wrong. hollow. it's simply not enough #i've grown up feeling like nothing i do is enough and that also travels to my way of apologising #we are all damaged in one way or another but we are all capable of so much love #and that's what my family and friends have taught me #it's okay if you're messed up and have no idea how to be a functional person. it's okay to screw up. we can sit and fix it #together #my writing #prose poetry #love #words #writeblr #prose #familial love #love languages #anger

[starrynightarchive]

i'm vi and i hate cucumbers. i might be out of my mind and a little too passionate about simple things. writer to some, bastard to most.

hi there. it's good to meet you.

carrd | poetry | ao3 | spotify | fic masterlist

#introductory post #I DID IT FINALLY #listen ik this is barely anything but this is who I am as a person #trust me that's all there is #pinned intro #my poetry #masterpost #you can find my poetry under- #my writing #and just me talking under- #vi talks #my fics- #my works

[creatediana]

There’s a lot on my head— namely, a head, like Marie Antoinette used to have— and King Charles (the First)— (the new one—whatever)— (I think he still has one, but it’s not in great shape).

But what of the mind? Never mind— but the body, it burns. And I lie in my bed looking at Joan of Arc in a BBC feature— condemned with a baby (or, bastard)— oh, Joan, or Jeanne, la Pucelle— a poor little maid that a poor little Bard suited up—in fine armor to slutshame. Oh well.

Oh well, well well well I’m not feeling these days but for movies and books that I gaze on. Praise God for recurring malaise and disease— I’ve been struck with for fifteen years now... quite a chunk of my life

when I’m just 24, and my grandmother’s baby— (my grandmother’s dead)— (but she wasn’t, before).

No, all four of my grandparents saw me grow up—as this wretch— little nine-year-old girl full of needles, I am— I continue to be in my hospital bed glued to the TV.

What integrity I must inspire in my elders— their wise niece and daughter a weakling, for now— (no, not now, but forever)— I take the remote and flip to cartoons.

I wrote poetry once— (I still do—in my head) (that thing I still have... despite) and I wrote it for years and I’m writing it now in force— in rebellion against the skin and the bones and the muscles, not moving without consequence—

but the mind— and the body!— being idle... I hate it. Even more than the pain, or the punishment I submit to— to claim Me my own over this, my fatigue— my war from some film like a period piece—

so. I fight for some king? Or for God? Heaven knows— but I’m stylishly dressed, eloquent, my last words and woes of my tragedy— (how nice that’d be)— find heroic catharsis for the audience to see...

but for Me? What of Me? Oh, that’s Sunday. Or not. Wait, it’s Friday?—They all look the same in my house. My garden’s no calendar, my dog’s not my boss, but my job is to live... but loss... all of this— losing years once again of my bright little life.

Nana’s sore little girl, I submit, put my pen down again.

“Chorus—pretend Me I’m buried.” - a free verse poem written 7/07/2023

#ive been through a lot lately #and forever #free verse #poetry #poem #poets on tumblr #free meter #spilled ink #chronic illness #shakespeare #joan of arc #henry vi part 1 #(yes this is in reference to the 1983 bbc television film directed by the iconic jane howell) #(sick girl entertainment) #modern poetry #original writing

[honeygloom]

#dark #horror #dark art #goth #horror poetry #poetry #dark poetry #haiku #horror haiku #prompts #poetry prompts #daily prompts #writing prompts #haiku prompts #demonology #daemonologie #king james vi and i #free #freebies #poets of tumblr #poets on tumblr #poetblr #come join us

[yellowfog4]

When Silco said

"Is there anything so undoing as a daughter?"

(Arcane, Silco)

#writing #poetry #literature #arcane #silco #silco and jinx #jinx #league of legends #spilled ink #books & libraries #poets on tumblr #prose #art #vi and powder #vi and jinx #vi and caitlyn #vi x caitlyn

[3-vi-3]

i'll never see you and you'll never see me

we will never speak

the place where our paths overlapped lies in history

where i leave it be

i may sleep in your shirt,

with this blanket i got with you

lying through my teeth

that they're anything other than your substitute

the closest i have to relief

but they've grown into more than you ever wanted to be to me

holding me in my grief

as time has gone by, i can't help but smile

even as i cry in my sleep

#personal #writing #wip #poetry #poem #poems #original poem #3-vi-3

[sad-tunes]

i am looking for salvation in the leaves falling off the trees. brown and charred and bitten down things that were once so full of life- falling like snow onto the grown, a mimicry of purity. they fall again and rot again and grow again. bury me in the dirt and see if i grow into something new. maybe death is just that: rebirth.

#vi posting a poem?? crazy #fully expecting this to get one note but whateva #original poetry #poetry #writing #who knows what this is really

[vi-visected]

hoarder // a poem about being unable to let go

#my poem #poetry #sad poem #poets on tumblr #original poem #vi writes; poetry

[six-white-venus]

give me a word. ask me a question. i'll write you a little something.

#vi in their bard era #inspo is a little low so i'm making you guys my muse #ask away! #prose #poetry #my writing #words #writeblr #writing requests

[bogkeep]

Blikket hennes hvilte ofte på porten

en port av blikk og nikkel du ikke hadde nøkkel til en port lenge stengt med lås hengt fast i en mengde vrengte stenger men skapet er åpent skrap deg ut av buret vri deg fri av vegger ut av bolig ut i by på våketokt uten vakt

for å gå en gate er en gåte alene alle alléene er veien en enigma skrid heller videre med stimen ned en sti av stein en labyrint av en glemt vinter av vind som vender din vei om til fangehullet du forlot

så hold tritt i trappene av tapet, parkett og trettitallsportrett for å finne fram her inne til rom og rust og rosenkrans til sengestoff og sansestans til en port å hvile blikket på og øynene skal låses nå.

#haiz writes #dette er veldig gammelt men jeg liker det fremdeles? #jeg skrev det for skrivekurs jeg gikk på i videregående. vi skulle skrive noe som started med 'blikket hennes hvilte ofte på porten' #vet ikke hvorfor eller hvordan det ble til dette og det er et av livets små mysterier. #(sorry for sharing some of my old norwegian poetry for literally no other reason that i Felt Like It)

[brokenwindowvibes]

excerpts from a book that will never be completed #9

"I know he didn't mean it. I know he's genuinely sorry. I know that it was just a spur of the moment thing."

"But you just can't get your heart to agree."

It's like a bullet pierces through the haze and hits her in the chest. Her face crumples up and tears gather in her eyes. She falls down on my lap, and I keep my arms around her shoulder until the whimpers stop.

"This is why I tell you not to fall in love." She weakly whispers through her sniffles.

"Eh. It's like a freefall. You know from the moment you stand on the precipice that you're probably going to end up in the ditches, that it's very risky- I mean, love makes your heart skip beats, for fuck's sake- but that one second when you're in the air, when you feel like you're flying, all the tears are worth it. For that one second."

She gives out another sob and the waterfall begins again. "Well I can't be expected to not cry when you say something like that." She smiles, and in turn I smile.

We both know I can't solve her problem, and some people would ask why we're wasting time talking about it. Because sometimes, just being there, being yourself is enough to make a person feel better. That is all I can give her right now, and it's okay.

#vi #poetry #poems #spilled ink #spilled poetry #prose #writing

[littlewildbouquet]

Arcane (a poem)

There’s blood down in the river

Blood on knuckles, sister’s teeth

A clash at hand of Pink and Blue

A war of Gold and Green

The greed is thick as smoke in pipes

The air is smogged and sour

Forget me not, inhuman eye

Inject me on the hour

The greed in wisps, as clouds in sky

Permeable as power

Forgive me not, inhuman beasts

In sacred blimp or tower

The Pink, unleashed in every vein

Fist tight and open palm

The Blue, unstable Rubik’s cube

A child’s atom bomb

But hold me now, in all I am

Remembered as I was

Forgiven now, in chaos: We.

Because. Because. Because.

But not forgotten, years Arcane

And not forgiven, she

In arms besides the one who left

One choice, five chairs, two pleas

The madness and the gleam of peace

The magic, human-made

The orange moon, the rocket path

The perfect world repaid.

#arcane #arcane jinx #arcane vi #vi and jinx #arcane fandom #poetry #arcane poetry #writing #my ocs

[vivivougewrites]

Red Eyed Man (Alt. The First of the Last) Poem by Vivivougewrites

A great read if you stress about grades like me :3 -----

You woke up late that morning

the morning of the first of the last of the year And you couldn’t help but ponder to yourself How to deal with the red eyed man In the forest of pretty words  and lying adults  who tell you the red eyed man doesn’t matter.

Yet there he is Ever present like the remainder of a bad dream you can’t get rid of. You try and tell the lying adults! but they’re too busy caught up in their own lie to hear you speaking. Yet there he is! lurking in the shadows. His gleaming eyes  are always fixed on you from somewhere in the distance begging you to hear his call to preach to his song and  C R U M B L E under his words and his gaze is red hot red hot yet colder than sheets of blue ice.

And he promised to change your future to decide your fate and your place among the stars. ‘I am either the greatest thing you have ever seen’  He hissed, with the tongue  of a slithering snake ‘or perhaps I am your worst nightmare’

Don’t you think it’s funny that your future relies on a number? A number with a point on a page that reflects the outcome of what you did  in every class since you  were FOURTEEN?

You ignored the red eyed man.

And of course, You promised yourself  that only a pristine four four a four would glimmer on your deciding page. even if it meant (clawing your eyes out tearing your limbs off snatching your soul in) to get there.

. . .

Here comes the first of the last! and the first of the last of your sanity

-----

For anybody stressed about finals, past me (And current me) UNDERSTANDS YOU!!!!! Can't tell you not to be stressed, because I am too! Just take it one step at a time and you've got this!

#first post #original poem #poems on tumblr #poems and poetry #poem #writers and poets #poetry #poets on tumblr #poetsandwriters #writers on tumblr #poets corner #tumblr poetry #spilled ink #spiled thoughts #writeblr #writerscommunity #creative writing #finalseason #stress #mental health #writing #prose #writer things #writing community #original post #original work #do not repost #DONT STEAL ISTG PEOPLE #idk how to tag this #vi’s poetry

[seashore-winds]

and i look at the beautiful men

and i sigh not with envy

but heavy tiredness

not because i don't see my own beauty

but as a dream to be so easily seen as such.

the wonders

a pair of those eyes do

in such a hostile world.

#this is about seeing conventionally attractive trans men around me #like dude im so happy for you but also it must be so much easier #im so glad to be a freak but it comes with its price to pay #idk i wouldn't be skinny if i had the choice #i wouldn't change who i am even if it made it easier #but i would change it so i am perceived the same they (beautiful men) are #i want to be seen as beautiful i guess #yeah im writing about pretty privilege in the year of our lord smth smth #uhh what were my tags again #i don't know how to write poetry. /yet/ #poetry #very tired this one #untitled #untitled fragment #things I'd show thespis #[ ✒️ VI ] #i think #own works #text

[moonkissedvisions]

Pick an image tarot reading: Your natural gifts 🎀🍓🧁

Important: 16+. This is a general tarot card reading. Take what resonates and leave the rest. Tarot readings are not meant to be a replacement for any professional advice. I use the Rider-Waite deck. Take a deep breath, think about the theme/question of the reading and pick an image. Let your intuition guide you and HAVE FUN!

🎀 First picture

cards: 6 of Cups, King of Pentacles, 5 of Swords.

🎀 Multitalented

🎀 Inner child

🎀Generosity

🎀 Compassion

🎀 Playfulness

🎀 Creating a beautiful atmosphere

🎀 Cooking

🎀 Decorating

🎀 Jewelry

🎀 Retailer

🎀 Drawing

🎀 Painting

🎀 Collecting

🎀 Servicial

🎀 Money

🎀 Finances

🎀 Comedy

🎀 Working with kids

🎀 Poetry

🎀 Charity

🎀 Imagination

🎀 Instruments

🎀 Memory

🎀 Discipline

🎀 Self control

🎀 Material world

🎀 Counseling

🎀 Security

🎀 Self esteem

🎀 Humility

🎀 Crafting

🎀 Asking questions

🎀 History

🎀 Adaptation

🎀 Inspiring

🎀 Fashion

🎀 Philosophy

🎀 Speech

🎀 Abundance

🎀 Nourishing

🎀 Assertiveness

🎀 Therapy

additional notes: you may be childlike and/or have a baby face. you are forever young. you are outgoing. you like presents. you like learning about the past/your ancestors. you may have melancholic and nostalgic thoughts and emotions. you have a lot of energy. you are caring. you like a bit of destruction and mess (whatever that means for you). you may like wearing adornments. you may have an abundance mindset. people may feel comfortable and happy around you. you may have a hard time letting go of stuff. you may like self-care. Leave a 🎀 if you picked this reading!

🍓 Second picture

cards: The Devil, The Lovers, Wheel of Fortune.

🍓 You could be a 6 in numerology, since you got both 6 life path number cards (The Lovers VI, The Devil XV). 6 may be a significant number to you, or you embody 6 number codes and energy.

🍓 Strong sexual and personal magnetism

🍓 Attracting people

🍓 Sensuality

🍓 Dealing with taboo and dark themes

🍓 Loving

🍓 Generous

🍓 Business

🍓 Tempting

🍓 Unmasking the truth

🍓 Strong intuition

🍓 Designing

🍓 Passionate

🍓 Psychology

🍓 Making love

🍓 Holistic medicine

🍓 Dominance

🍓 Beauty

🍓 Decision-making

🍓 Devoted/devotion

🍓 Romance

🍓 Surrender

🍓 Acceptance

🍓 Wisdom

🍓 Good luck

🍓 Deep understanding

🍓 Manifesting

🍓 Communication

🍓 Effortless persona

🍓 Relationships

🍓 Good lover

🍓 Family oriented

🍓 Artistic

🍓 Beautiful

🍓 Considerate

🍓 Appreciative

🍓 Magic

🍓 Aware

🍓 Psychic

🍓 Occult/hidden

additional notes: you may be considered sexy or conventionally attractive. people are curious about you. people tell you their secrets. you go through a lot of changes in your life/identity. you may be multi-talented like the first pic people. you are considered an open-minded person but at the same time you may be a conventional/traditional or conservative person. you like having a healthy lifestyle. you may not like sharing many stuff about yourself and that could make you a mysterious person. you like witchy stuff/ are open about witchcraft. you may get obsessed easily. you may have a lot of secrets. you may have to deal with self-pity. Leave a 🍓 if you picked this reading!

🧁 Third picture

cards: King of Swords, Strength, Justice.

🧁 Compassion

🧁 Determination

🧁 Integrity

🧁 Power of thoughts

🧁 Power of the unconscious

🧁 Focus

🧁 Respect for life, its cycles and the natural order

🧁 Caring

🧁 Harmonious

🧁 Patience

🧁 Control

🧁 Veterinary

🧁 Taming

🧁 Problem solving

🧁 Wildness

🧁 Royalty

🧁 Law

🧁 Sharpness

🧁 Command

🧁 Good balance of feminine and masculine energies. ☯️ There is an overall balance in you.

🧁 Judge

🧁 Popular

🧁 Honesty

🧁 Impartiality

🧁 Rationality

🧁 Incredible logic

🧁Intellectual

🧁 Unbiased

🧁 Fatherly

🧁 Authority

🧁 Intelligent

🧁 Discernment

🧁 Writing

🧁 Sense of justice

🧁 Giving and gaining respect

🧁 Political/good at politics

🧁 Hierarchy

🧁 Leader

additional notes: you may be a control freak. you deal with emotions harmoniously but you could also seem cold or may dislike emotionality. you are deeply spiritual though. you may be or come across as judgemental to some people but you have a fair judgement. people come to you for advice and help because of your perspectives. you sense when things aren't right or something is unfair. you may love animals and nature. maybe you have a lot of pets or you fight for animal rights. you may be bookish. you like power/feeling powerful and strong and being in high positions. you may have a clean style or like neatness. Leave a 🧁 if you picked this reading!

Thank you for reading my post! I hope you loved it.

#tarot cards #tarot reading #pick an image #pick a card #witchcraft #tarotcommunity #tarotblr #tarot #self love #self care #self improvement #tarot asks #tarot aesthetic #tarot advice #tarot messages #tarot questions #tarot spread #card reading #card readings #choose a picture #tarot community #astrology #tarot and astrology #career #manifesting #manifestation #occult #occultism #free tarot #pick a pile