his----hers

[his----hers]

Freudian slip into the sheets of the tiny bed, we had no need for space. Tucked under the brumal draft of the window we left open in the winter. I was once the only warmth you needed. We’d hear the tapping of cowboy boots stumble across the hardwood after last call had ended. We joked with alarming fondness about oedipus complexes and how I was too alike your father.

Strangely, you turned me into him, and you turned into mine.

You saw me as your father was, drunk and disorderly. Hopeless. Helpless. Destroyed by infidelity and he never recovered, it was too late in life to try to die with dignity.

I saw you as my father was, driven and divisive. Ruthless. Relentless. Destroyed by criticism, I never recovered enough to live without defence.

You may never see me as I am, recovered and reliable. Hopeful. Helpful. Destroyed by infidelity and I haven’t recovered, but it is too early in life to die without dignity.

[his----hers]

Read this to her. Posted @withregram • @written.by.sheshe 22.08.2020 // I’m happy at the moment, but I’ll admit that I’m scared. 🖤✨ https://www.instagram.com/p/CEdRgUQFL3U/?igshid=1v9zsjkorjlhy

[his----hers]

Posted @withregram • @stephaniebennetthenry #stephaniebennetthenry #ragingrhetoric #poetry #poetrycommunity #poem #poemsofinstagram #writersofinstagram #writing #writingcommunity #selflove #lifequotes #life #me #selfdiscovery #wordporn #poetryofinstagram #Friday #quotestoliveby #potd #quote #word #prose #lessons #poetsofig https://www.instagram.com/p/CEdRSnyF4U3/?igshid=13edaq69czr7j

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[his----hers]

I thought I’d show our daughter what it meant to love and be loved. I’d love you so fiercely that she could go through life boldly, knowing that kind of thing existed. My greatest fear in life was that someone else could do that better.

I thought I’d show her precisely, the way I love you, beyond the immediacy of cohabitation and domesticity. She would help me create a fairytale princess, like the ones she grew up reading about. She would help me propose to you. She’d bring you flowers on our wedding day. Through the aisle, between our friends and family. In a chateau on a hilltop, overlooking the romantic ideal we had for another life, in a different place. I thought I’d show her why we chose to share this space and build a home.

I never really did a great job at that, though I tried with all my heart. I slowly eroded over the course of a year, week after week, with the late night phone calls. The giddy giggles and laughter downstairs pierced me through the walls of that recklessly imperfect home I tried to build for us. That little old house protected me from nothing, especially the sound of your happiness outside of it. Sleepless and sober, I could feel your smile from the discomfort of our bed. I knew I’d lost you. If only I listened as actively when you were standing in front of me as I did through those walls.

I loved you from an illusory distance while I still had you physically here. Afraid to be close, I left every day for you, I worked to provide a life for our family. It wasn’t much, but it was something. I tried to replace what I couldn’t provide in touch or time with material possessions and financial security. In my world, that was the only value you saw in me. You never felt the romance of economic provision. God knows I tried to.

I came home every night exhausted. I’d toss my whole body into the swollen door and stumble onto the creaky floor. Reviving me was the familiar smell of your service to our family. You cooked from the heart and I could always taste that; it was my second favourite flavour of you. You cleaned honestly. You always tried to make my life easier. You lost the love, but kept the table delicious, the unsung last mile in our dysfunctional supply chain. I put that food on the table and that roof over our heads. Your lost the comfort and joy that came from keeping it clean. I lost the respect for your role in it all.

You found that comfort in others. I never found the respect, and I’ll likely regret that forever. Then, there was pain. There was lying and cheating and stealing.

I learned through this pain that I can still show her what love means, beyond the proximal nature of it. She will always know that nobody loves you like I do. She’ll get to see the reality in love. It may not be the fairytale I hoped we’d write for her. Although, it’s probably better she learns early that fairytales are the softcore porn of literature. I suppose that’s not really my place to judge, you’re the one uniquely qualified to be critical of genre.

She may never sit and watch a film with us, nor referee the empassioned debate about its writing thereafter. She may not catch the bond, the commitment, the boredom, the yearning, the laughter, the love that we learned about in San Junipero. She’ll learn that sometimes, most times, to be in love means to suffer. Love means pain, and pain means work. Work tethers us to reality, and in its deficiency was the blossoming of the mercurial little heartbreaker that rested inside of you.

I don’t know how to love you from a real distance. I don’t know how to love you through all this pain. My mind is open, and I will learn how. Our daughter will know the boundless, infinitely intentional nature of love. She will learn that love does not make demands, and it does not depend on reciprocity. My love, this love, our love, does not depend on anything, nor anyone. She will learn not to depend, and that could be the most powerful lesson I have to offer.

Maybe she’ll share in my dreams of a life together. A different life in a different world, a fantasy, much like the ones you pursued outside of our reality.

Impossible to go back without the blessing of everyone who knows that broken home. We don’t need to be like them. We’ve always had comfort in knowing we weren’t. We loved each other for the little anomalies we both were. You and I are not everyone, especially to her. We are everything.

#poemoftheday #poetry #poetrycommunity #poetryisnotdead #poems #quotes #writingcommunity #creativewriting #igwritersclub #poem

[his----hers]

📖 Read this to her. Who are you reading it to? 👇Tag in the comments below: Posted @withregram • @libera_animum 🌹💥🔥☄️☀️🌶🍷🥃🥊🚨🧨❤️ . ^^^ a little obnoxious but you get the point . . #poem #selfdiscovery #selflove #selfpower #internalpower #powerwithin #poetryprompt #poetrycommunity #poetryofinstagram #poetryfamily #poetrycorner #spilledinkpoetry https://www.instagram.com/p/CEc5zjWF4_M/?igshid=1x1l3i5f3dgt

#poem #selfdiscovery #selflove #selfpower #internalpower #powerwithin #poetryprompt #poetrycommunity #poetryofinstagram #poetryfamily #poetrycorner #spilledinkpoetry

[his----hers]

She reads this to him. Posted @withregram • @topherkearby Incredible Kindness - "Kind" is the word that's been on my heart the most these days. Thinking about it as an action. What can I do to be kind. To show kindness. To live with kindness. Because I believe in that power. The power we give each other when we are kind to one another. When we support one another. When we love one another. And I think that if more people pursued kindness the world would begin to heal. #topherkearby #kindness - (If you'd like this or any of my other words on an original canvas just send me a message. 🙏✒️🖌️) #poetrycommunity #poetrysociety #poemoftheday #poetryisnotdead #writerscommunity #spilledwords #writingcommunity #creativewriting #writersconnection #igwritersclub https://www.instagram.com/p/CEc5gitlo86/?igshid=1bx8p666lw98n

#topherkearby #kindness #poetrycommunity #poetrysociety #poemoftheday #poetryisnotdead #writerscommunity #spilledwords #writingcommunity #creativewriting #writersconnection #igwritersclub

[his----hers]

Read this to him: Posted @withregram • @therandomstories kiara had always thought that she would fall in love first and then get married. it happened the other way around. she met him the first time just a few months before their marriage. he wasn't the kind of person she had dreamt about. he didn't have shiny eyes or a mischievous smile or jokes that would make people laugh aloud. but she married him anyway. while she was packing lunch for him, she realised she didn't even know his favourite flower or his favourite colour or his favourite vegetable. so over breakfast, she asked him as many questions as she could. he answered ten of them before he placed a piece of paratha in her mouth. 'you have many years to ask me questions. eat now' life went on as usual for them. they would sit on their swing in the balcony and watch the sunset. paint together. read their favourite books together. cook fancy items on the weekend. curl up on the bed and talk about their days. life was usual but beautiful. until one day, kiara lost consciousness and collapsed on the floor. several tests and reports later, the doctors found out that she had just a year to live. that day, they both cried. kiara left for her parents' house so she could be better cared for while he worked overtime so that her treatment expenses could be met. they still did everything together. but they held on to those moments longer. maybe it takes an illness and a time limit to value people more. kiara spent the last month of her life in the hospital. with him by her side. the day she died, she woke up and wrote a letter to him. she somehow knew it was going to be her last day. he had to attend an important meeting that day. she called him to come soon. he didn't pick up. seventeen missed calls. twenty two text messages. but he would never see them. his mobile was found on the road. besides a badly crashed bike. people can't live without love. for them, it was the other way around. love couldn't live without the both of them. so kiara's last letter. she read it out to him in heaven. https://www.instagram.com/p/CEXzpC6BLk6/?igshid=bgt8jxr7kh7v

[his----hers]

Read this to yourself. I read this aloud from my balcony with a cigarette, overlooking an empty city. Who do you want to read this to? Tag them in the comments ❤️. Posted @withregram • @jennaececelia Dear Present Me, There are sunrises over here. Coffee you will savor and not chug to stay awake. You smile more than not. When the rain does fall you allow it to hit your cheeks and know that is good for you. You found light over here in the midnight moon. I can’t wait for you to see.... Love, Future Me From my book, The Sun Will Rise and So Will We. Click the link in my bio to check it out✍🏼 • • • • • #jennaececelia #writer #write #quotes #quotes #dearme #advicequotes #poem #poems #poetry #poetess #poet #poetsofinstagram #indieauthor #writersofinstagram #notesfromtheuniverse #writingnotes #dailyquotesforyou #dailypoem #dailypoems #writtingletters #handletters #quotesdaily #poemoftheday #thesunwillriseandsowillwe #letterstomyself (at Portland, Oregon) https://www.instagram.com/p/CEXu36XBwXN/?igshid=3t2kdjflpco6

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[his----hers]

Read this to her. Posted @withregram • @sneh.poetry Life Follow @sneh.poetry #poetryporn #poetsofinstagram #poetryofinstagram #poems #poetryisnotdead #poetryislife #poetry #poem #poemsporn #poemsofinstagram #poemsdaily #poemsofinsta #wordsofwisdom #wordswithqueens #wordstoliveby #instaquotes #instaquotesdaily #instagood #insta #quote #quotestoliveby #quotesoftheday #quotedaily #quotes #quotesindonesia #quotesofinstagram #quotesaboutlife #quotestagram #quoted #life https://www.instagram.com/p/CEXX5vlhl9V/?igshid=xi16vmg9izmo

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[his----hers]

He reads this to her:

I'm a mess, that's the best way to describe it

Having no time to myself is the only way I can fight it

When I'm alone, it's like I'm staring into a mirror

Don't know the person inside it and that's never been any clearer

I miss your family and I miss all my friends

If you had it to do over, would you do it over again?

'Cause I would, it means something more to me

There's a hole in my heart where you use to be

I still wish you the best of luck, baby

And don't go thinking that this was a waste of time

I couldn't forget you if I tried

You killed what was left of the good in me

I'm tired so let me be broken

Look down at the mess that's in front of me

No other words need be spoken

And I've got nobody else to blame though I tried

Kept all of my past mistakes down inside

I'll live with regret for my whole life

- ADTR

#poetrycommunity #poemoftheday #poetryisnotdead #writingcommunity #creativewriting #igwritersclub #poetry #poetrysociety #spilledwords #writerscommunity #adtr lyrics #adtr #adtr a day to remember #wordsmith #words

[his----hers]

He reads this to her:

I can’t breathe.

I said, over and over again between the dry heaves. Heartbreak got the best of me. A family, ruined.

There are other men, greater men than me, who have said these words before. In the moment I thought I’d lost everything, I realized that I still had something. Life. For them.

#poetrycommunity #poemoftheday #poetryisnotdead #writingcommunity #creativewriting #igwritersclub #poetry #poetrysociety #spilledwords #writerscommunity #icantbreathe

[his----hers]

“If you’re meant to be with someone, it will work out. Whether it’s next month or in five years, what’s meant to be will always be.”

[his----hers]

He reads this to her.

I don’t visit you in the cemetery.

Ten years ago I waited my turn

To drop a handful of dirt on the box

With you inside.

A week later, there was grass seed spread

On the dirt-clump rectangle.

Two months later,

Grass,

but still no headstone.

I haven’t been back.

On Tuesday nights I sit in our booth at that bar on the corner.

It’s a Mexican place now, so I order fajitas instead of fries.

September at the county fair,

I stand an hour in line for our favorite ride

And they strap in a stranger beside me.

Sometimes I order your favorite beer,

And sometimes I listen to your favorite bands,

And when I remember you talking, your voice is theirs.

Sometimes I walk by the empty corner where our house used to be.

And I sit on porches where you used to sit.

And I pass the building where you used to work.

And I talk to the people you used to talk to.

Everything about you is Past Tense,

But I’m surrounded with you.

I don’t visit you in the cemetery.

Why should anyone?

Every person who ever lives

Leaves behind 1000 graves

In every place they ever were.

And the rest of us spend our days

Watching where we walk.

Trying to avoid wide open pits

Open and hungry.

And everywhere I go,

I see them.

Some days,

I fall in.

[his----hers]

He reads this to her. Posted @withregram • @thangbalay . But always vital for my existence ❣️ . . . #thangbalay #water #poetry #lovepoem #lovepoems #lovequotes #poetrycommunity #words #Iovenotes #poet #science #writer #poems #nerd #spilledink #poetryisnotdead #writingcommunity #read #quotes #illustration https://www.instagram.com/p/CEQBGVLBhQe/?igshid=pdmefou699jh

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[his----hers]

She reads this to him. Posted @withregram • @zachrykdouglas 🌹💀🖤 "LOVE'S GREATEST GIFT" All of my merch is available on my website. Link is in my bio!! #tribeofpoets #heartofpoets #writingsociety #globalpoetcult #writerssociety #justlifequotes #poetrysending #specialrequest #nrhart #poetryandpearls https://www.instagram.com/p/CEQAP2lBk9S/?igshid=12sfe5qfseetz

#tribeofpoets #heartofpoets #writingsociety #globalpoetcult #writerssociety #justlifequotes #poetrysending #specialrequest #nrhart #poetryandpearls

[his----hers]

He reads this to her. Posted @withregram • @blakeaudenpoetry I’ve never blamed you for giving up on us; for not being able to love me. Even at the darkest points, I understood what holding us together would have done to you.  I didn’t need you to fix me. Not everything that is broken can be put back together, and you had your own pieces to carry. Every breath is a surrender of life; of time, and you made thousands of mine mean something. I guess I just want you know that I’m grateful, for every exhale.  My brand new book Beekeeper is now available to pre-order via the link in my bio. You can also get my debut book Tell The Birds She’s Gone, which is now back in stock at blakeauden.com.  #blakeauden #blakeaudenpoetry #poetrycommunity #poetrysociety #poemoftheday #poetryisnotdead #writerscommunity #spilledwords #writingcommunity #creativewriting #writersconnection #igwritersclub  https://www.instagram.com/p/CEQAAs1hOn1/?igshid=1i72ih6rboivx

#blakeauden #blakeaudenpoetry #poetrycommunity #poetrysociety #poemoftheday #poetryisnotdead #writerscommunity #spilledwords #writingcommunity #creativewriting #writersconnection #igwritersclub

[his----hers]