andalliloved-ilovedalone

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

i dream i am barren. 

i dream the garden of my psyche is burnt down, its earth salted - a pyrrhic victory. emotionless, but at what cost?

i dream i am hollow.

there is nothing inside me to call mine,  soul migrated south for the summer and never came back.

i dream i am nothing but a vessel,  someone else talking through my mouth, walking with my legs. 

i close my eyes and pull the dagger from my side, relishing the burn. i am hollow. i am barren. i am empty. now i simply must purge from my body the blood that runs through my veins, rid myself of the body within my body, half faithful and half apostate.

so let me feel nothing, i beg the heavens, as i carve my heart out of my chest - why must you test me so?! why must self-destruction feel as heavy as a tombstone?!

barren victory, u.b.

#blood tw #gore tw #violence tw #poetry #original writing #original free verse #original free verse poetry #free verse #writers on tumblr #writeblr #poets on tumblr #self harm tw #im so fucking tired

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

sometimes i wonder what it must be like, to be the younger.

how does it feel like? your only memories of him follow the wake of the tide,  the water parting before you, two clear sides— daddy or mommy? moses before the red sea— god or your people?

second child, last attempt at fixing something the first couldn’t do,  perhaps, i’m glad you don’t know the feeling of doubt, of wondering if you weren’t enough.

neither of us loves the way our parents do. and i’m glad, don’t get me wrong, i’m glad,  because mom is an oak tree in the desert and father’s a blood-sucking tick.

as with many other things, i like to believe i’m self-aware enough to recognize my own shortcomings. but, at the end of the day, we are our parents’ children, are we not?

you’ll never know the weight of the line, submerged the smoke coming out of the kitchen, the feeling of not being able to hug her because there’s a living lump between us. you’ll never know the renovations painted blue and the heralding of a new era.

but know this: Mary and Joseph were sitting on the bed, and to this day i know i unknowingly played the part of Gabriel.

Mary/Joseph/Gabriel, u.b.

#religion tw #blood tw #original writing #original poetry #original free verse #free verse #free verse poetry #writers on tumblr #writeblr #poetry #parents tw

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

the pen is hard to lift when there’s a weight behind it, when the theme is so real that this goes from poetry to autopsy report. august — it rears its ugly head, but i thought i had more time than this.  you never speak of it with me but you said august,  why won’t anyone around me keep their word? whoever said that no news are good news obviously never went through this.

WHAT IS IT ABOUT AUGUST? why is it always then? i fear the pass of the months enough as it is,  this sword needs not hang over my neck.

i fear water and doctors and war and i fear you i fear for you i fear this lines, like all that comes from me to you, will prove fruitless.

bloody summer with lemonade, ivs and a hospital bed.

please, may this summer pass in peace.

what is it about august, u.b.

#hospital tw #iv tw #poetry #free verse #original free verse #original free verse poetry #poets on tumblr #original poetry #original writing #guess who's back back again and all of that #poets in tumblr

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

children’s section

i.k.b

#*yes bitch* #hospital tw #mother tw

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

i would like to say that i leave this house like i found it, but truth be told, i’ve never been good at looking after things.  i’m sorry, it’s shaking and i fear it’s gonna crumble. can a living person be the ghost that’s hunting them? this house feels empty and cold and alien. i’m sorry i hand it over covered with the marks of my anger, pack it all nicely, would you do that for me? there’s something in the attic of this house and i’m afraid it’s not paranormal,  could you call emergency services for me? this damn thing’s gonna collapse.

i know no one’s gonna want this place and that’s fine by me, it won’t be my problem. a lightning struck the roof and i’ve been without electricity ever since, colder by the minute the fire won’t come ‘til the judgement day, and by then i won’t be present. the neighboorhood isn’t bad, it’s just not for me. kind, loud, happy people. i hope you’ll be happy as well. i couldn’t give them what they wanted. this house has seen me at my lowest and i’ve brought it down with me, i’m sorry,  i didn’t clean anything. it’s no longer my problem.

moving as a metaphor for suicide, u.b.

#suicide tw #poetry #original writing #original poetry #original free verse #free verse #free verse poetry #writers on tumblr #writeblr

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

i am laying down. death is a loving bedside nurse. i haven’t eaten today,  if i move i will undoubtedly fall and fall and fall onto the neverending pit of darkness where i was born, judge, i pledge guilty. dress me in golden chains and allow death to take me, she’s been waiting for me. i feel so raw that if you touch me, i’ll surely burst into flames. is it arson when what i’m burning  isn’t wanted or needed? i tell you i belong where eternal damnation is a daily occurence,  i never go to church. my neck hurts and if atlas shrugged then why can’t i? i carry more weight than he’ll ever conceive.

atlas, u.b.

#poetry #original free verse poetry #original poetry #original writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #death tw #eating tw

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

i’m the unwanted, the forgotten, the survivor of a tragedy so great it makes people scared of me.

i’m the runt of the litter, the black sheep, the crow of this family. i’ll hang on the electricity cables, cawing, open the window, it’s your daughter.

i’m the therapist,  the psychologist,  the listener- i’m a receptacle before i am a person.

i lie in my bed and think, i shouldn’t be here; i lie in a hospital bed and think, i shouldn’t be here; i lie in my grave and think, i shouldn’t be here.

my brain has gotten bored of thinking up verses and so it’s started to imagine noises, glows and shapes, the pressure of the entire ocean against my lying body.

what am i supposed to do  when both my brain and body won’t settle for anything i do?

settle, u.b.

#hallucinations tw #hospital tw #grave tw #whatever whatever whatever

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

all poems are about the self, no matter what they say, it’s always an excuse to boast about how happy,  how depressed, how enraged you are.

even when the subject is another person, we will never truly talk about anything but us- wrap it in metaphors and coo at it if you so wish, but tears, like poems, will only ever talk about the one who sheds them.

us, u.b.

#original writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #original poetry #free verse #original free verse

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

the balls of my feet hurt, i almost haven’t left the house today. mom is proud of me.

the pain carries into my bones, how do i explain to my therapist that this is the closest i’ll get to the expiation of my sins, my guilt, the weight above my head?

if i bend them for too long, my knees complain.  the doctor says it’s growing pains. the priest says it’s a good sign, that’s god’s claim,  i no longer belong to myself.

if i let my nails bite into my palms can it still be consedered a stigmata?

god’s own pain, u.b.

#religion tw #pain tw #original writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #free verse #original poetry #stigmata tw

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

i sob and all that comes out of my eyes is black ink.

i’m telling you, i was never meant to be

tied; to a place, to somebody, to another day

not a free spirit but a tired soul,

a soul that carries itself wearily

through the minefield that is the mind,

a soul that has forgotten the meaning of the word home. 

don’t bring me in, 

i’ll bite the locks and

chew the keys, i

wasn’t meant to be free, but

if i have a master

i will bite the hand that feeds.

master, u.b.

#writers on tumblr #original writing #writeblr #free verse #original free verse poetry #whatever!!

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

it’s been weeks, and the triumvirate has faded like the morning star.

hospital, home, hospital. orion’s belt’s being forgotten. a game of loves me, loves me not, but there’s only thee petals left.

what’s your choice,  forgotten witch? the cards have been long abandoned and the cristal ball fell off and broke in three big shards.

the barely remembered trinity, u.b.

#original writing #original poetry #hospital tw #...

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

don’t go out into the light where i can’t follow, i’m a creature of the crepuscule through and through.

why can’t we stay and pretend once again that we can live in peace? turning your back to the world is a trust exercise: you’re giving it full permission to backstab you.

when the lights are on i’m blinded, turn them off again, i’m crying blood again. i’ve always told you that seeing the truth leaves your eyes deteriorated.

i’m asking you: forsake summer; warmth is always more appreciated in winter- my therapist calls it a cave, but don’t be confused by the name: it is more comfortable than the stairwell to heaven.

for what is the self if not  a jumble of coincidences, a lie, whitman’s multitudes, maybe, but good god, if i contain multitudes, how come i feel so alone?

where i can’t follow, u.b.

#original writing #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #free verse #free verse poetry #original poetry #blood tw #yadda yadda yadda

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

i am a white cat with blue eyes. they’ll like me until they find out about my blindness.

i am the hold on the back of the neck, palalyzing, maternal.

i am the whiskers and the tail, the instinct to turn in the air and fall upright. my legs will break before my back.

i am the almost ten hours long naps, i am the languidness, i am the carelessness.

i am small and powerless: that’s why if you break my pride you break my heart.

white cat with blue eyes, u.b.

#original writing #original poetry #free verse #original free verse poetry #i don't know man

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

my friend's poetry / and sylvia plath's / ariel / are in the same / drive folder. // we are the girls / that grew up / hearing / "oh, she's doing it for attention" / dismissively / until we were the ones / begging silently for attention. // we are the bonfire / in a midsummer's night, / magically silent, / artificial, / created for someone else.

my friend's poetry, u.b.

li'l thing dedicated to the macbeth witch gang ( @vegaschapters and @slit-my-wrist ) 💛

#i love yall bitches #original writing #original poetry #writeblr #free verse poetry #writers on tumblr #original free verse poetry

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

y ella, u.b.

#poesía #original writing #original poetry #writeblr #poets in tumblr #free verse poetry #writers on tumblr #poesía original #poesía en español #idk.

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

i grew up with cats. i can remember every single one of them.

first came linda. linda left. a kind neighbor brough us a cat that looked exactly like her. she wasn't linda. we kept her and acted like she was her.

linda had one kitty. we called him tigre, because he was one of those striped cats, although tigre was gray and not orange. tigre became pregnant, gave birth to kitties and we renamed her tigresa.

one of tigresa's kits was the split image of her grandma linda. we named her nievitas. the other one was completely black and didn't let you pet her. we named her infierno. a cruel name, perhaps.

by this point, when nievitas and infierno are grown, both linda and tigresa are long gone. did you know? a cat will leave to die away if it can. it doesn't want its owners to be sad, i read somewhere. true or false, linda and tigresa both left one day and never came back.

nievitas had a lot of litters, but it didn't make her a better mother- she abandoned some and probably did the same with the others, but we don't know. infierno only ever got pregnant once.

one of the cats nievitas abandoned and we took in was called bibi. he was very, very young. of the age where an animal can't survive without its mother. he died in his sleep, while i cradled him in my arms. my mom came back from work to find me and my brother crying by a towel covering something. she went out in the rain with the corpse in a shoebox.

the next time nievitas abandoned some of her kitties, one of them was already dead when we found them. i convinced my mom to let us keep the other. i named him kori.

soon after kori's one year anniversary, we had to move houses. we left behind infierno and nievitas. i don't know what's happened to them ever since. they were outside cats and we were moving into an apartment, and at their age, we doubted they would have adapted well, if at all.

less than a year ago, i had an anxiety crisis in my art class. a classmate accompanied me to the bathroom, and to take my mind off of things, we talked about pets. turned out a friend of hers who lived in my own street had a cat who'd just given birth, and i wouldn't be interested in adopting another cat, would i? i'd have to talk it out with my mom.

obviously, we took her in. my brother named her nebula. she's all black with two patches of white fur in her underbelly and chest, a stark contrast to kori's siamese appearance, a copy of nievitas and linda before him.

i grew up with cats. i know how to grab them by the skin of the neck and not to give them cow milk to drink, no matter what the movies show. i know exactly how many treats nebby can have and i've been plagued by cats in heat meowing and fighting in my garden for years. i grew up with cats, and it's been one of the things i'll forever be thankful about.

a chronology of cats, u.b.

special thanks to @d0ll-part-s

#india. again. if ur seeing this. ily. #original writing #may be my most personal writing piece yet tbh #writeblr #writers in tumblr #cats #animal death tw

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

empty and barren and dry as my ribcage,

the thing with feathers inside of it stopped singing years ago.

ask the preacher that baptized me for my birthday

while i wait silent in the graveyard.

curious, how everything seems to revolve around oneself,

my voice isn’t loud enough to get the starring role. they say

i have my mother’s silence.

i’ve seen the wooden horse, can i go home already?

poseidon knows i belong at the bottom of the ocean floor.

and what’s the point, what’s the goddamn point of it all?

they say i’ve always been fighting life but they don’t bother,

they never bother,

they just cross the hallway and hope i didn’t hear them. too bad the walls here are paper-thin.

i know your tendency of betraying yourself and it’s fucking tiresome, get your shit together,

or something like that.

i don’t know the lethal xanax dosage but i think my mom fears i might, 

there’s a thread going through my brain down to my stomach, but my mouth disagrees.

is he him or am i him?

somehow ulysses seems like he’s more than himself.

tell yourself nothing and keep lying to your phone, we’ll see how long that lasts.

it is never the right time. 

not for me, anyway.

these are the lines of the dispossesed,

‘‘anoiteces mais non amaneces’’, guess it runs through my blood.

i stole my mom’s copy of hamlet and now i fear giving it back, i’m sure she’d notice something was amiss.

you’ve screamed so much you’ve ended up crying in a courtroom,

the judge doesn’t seem that impressed. maybe i’m a daily occurrence. 

don’t let him come home, even after twenty years, your tapestry isn’t finished yet.

i feel i am the tapestry, done in the day and undone at night, 

i fear my end and wish for my fall.

penelope’s tapestry, u.b.

#implied suicide #mother tw #array of references. ofc. those being: #emily dickinson reference #hamlet reference #odyssey reference #OF COURSE #writeblr #original writing #writers on tumblr #free verse #original free verse #original free verse poetry #WOW i wanna die #whatever. juat whatever.