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#young poets
louudthoughts · 2 days
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you made me laugh,
even when my heart
was split in half.
you didn't sew it back together,
but you did better than the aggressor.
you made me believe in humanity,
even while i was losing my sanity.
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5ilentw0rds · 3 days
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And even though i would give you the world, you disappeared without saying a word.
I just hope after some time we will talk again.
That after some time,
you can tell me what really happened back then.
Whatever made you shut down and distance yourself from your friends.
But i’m still here for you, i will care for you,
I will help you all the way through.
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krystalkoldstone · 17 days
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Grief is love’s souvenir. It’s our proof that we once loved. Grief is the receipt we wave in the air that says to the world: Look! Love was once mine. I love well. Here is my proof I paid the price.
— Glennon Doyle Melton, Love Warrior
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timberfigure · 7 months
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its strange that the days that i miss you line up perfectly with the days i dont like myself
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shusays · 24 days
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All suffering originates from craving, from attachment,from desire.
Edgar Allen Poe
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lesweetweirdo · 7 months
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All this grief. All this feeling. All this love. Where do I put all of it? If not you, Then where?
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shannennicole · 2 months
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Ugly black moths
When I’m with you I feel the familiar flutter of butterflies in my stomach.
When I think of what we are or what we aren’t the little creatures beg to be acknowledged.
I smile a little at their presence.
Knowing that they are there for you and me.
But as quickly as my smile forms, it fades.
And I come to a more sinister realization as the flutter becomes more of a pounding.
I cringe at the thought that troubles me.
I know I am right.
The butterflies aren’t fluttering about.
They are not happy for us.
They are trying to escape.
They are trying to get out of me.
To warn me.
To plead with me not to do this.
To not let this happen again.
But I did.
So they flutter.
No not flutter.
Pound.
They pound until there is no boundary between them and the outside world.
My skin screams as they come blistering out.
No butterflies in sight.
These were pestering, ugly black moths.
I could hear them begging me to just see what was in front of me.
There were never butterflies in my stomach.
But sweet ugly black moths coming to warn me.
To show me exactly what your heart looks like.
They tell me it resembles an ugly black moth.
S.N
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minwritings · 4 days
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if i were to write a book it would be based on the fact that it’s april and the tide is still there. it doesn’t weaken, it doesn’t strengthen, it just lays motionless as a sort of way to remind me that even though it hasn’t shifted, it will always be there.
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666ghost · 2 months
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„Your love is like a drug… Its killing me but I can’t get enough of it„
- I love it
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dutifullyteenagewitch · 5 months
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"just once I'd like to be the poem, and not the poet"
just once I'd like to feel how being loved feels and not be the lover
just once I'd like to wear paper rings and not make them
just once I'd like to get gifts and not be the giver
just once I'd like to be the one over whom someone loses their sleep and not be the night hawk
just once I'd like to feel how it feels when someone burns their existence into ashes just for me and not pour my soul into someone only for them to see me
~ kaushiki
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interwovenwordsmith · 7 months
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Poem about the Higher Beings of Hallownest. (Yes, I made up my mind.) Oddly, this was rather challenging to write. Because some of the Gods' lore is just lacking, and rhyming can be simply stubborn at times. Nevertheless, I tried, and I'm somewhat proud of this. I wasn't planning to write anything today, but music changed my mind, and I was painfully bored.
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amateur-scribbler · 9 days
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I want you to hate me. Because I truly love proving myself right.
I love satisfying the sick whispers of self loathing and controlling the narrative of how this love will end, in time.
Because I know how to hurt you and sometimes I do it without even trying I’ve got this bitter guilt and this ever-quick poisonous bite.
I am not loveable or cute or the girl everyone wants to fawn over I am the girl people compare to hurricanes because it’s a promise that I will destroy everything in sight.
It’s an imposter, a facade, some type of trick of the light this version of me you love has never aligned with the one that whispers harsh truths to me late at night.
No, I’m not her, and I don’t deserve any of your love, because given the chance I’m still that sharp tongued snake always ready to poison the ones who take a selfless step in the murky waters to try to hold my head above.
So I’ll push you so far away, to the point that you stop understanding why you ever even contemplated fighting to stay.
Because honestly I truly love being right.
Letting you think I’m a monster means you’re finally meeting the dark voice who’s been whispering words of hatred to me every night.
The self fulfilling prophecy - t.k.o
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averywritespoetry · 8 months
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I feel too much to ever describe in words what it’s like to live inside my hearts walls
-a.b.
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najarsinkedpages · 1 month
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The monster that man fears is nothing compared to the monster that man is.
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justeveren · 3 months
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i keep trying to fit into places that are never mine, i keep finding a new home every while as if my guts are shattered and looking for a shelter, i carry them out and walk away anyway.
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feggaroneira · 27 days
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Εκείνοι που αγάπησες
ένας ένας εξαφανίστηκαν
το δέντρο παλι εμεινε χωρίς πουλιά
παράξενο, που βρίσκει το
κουραγιο και ανθίζει.
-Ντινος Χριστιανόπουλος
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