ollievjardin

[ollievjardin]

...

To feel empty 

Fragile, porcelain skin, cracking 

I faltered, you broke me, there’s always going to be cracks where the glue is

Stop it

Ow

Fuck

Don’t touch me anymore and let me

Lay inside of a blanket, and alone.

I’m so conflicted I have a headache 

Slap me in the face

Smack 

Ow 

Fuck 

I am most powerful when I am alone 

#short poem #original poetry #poetry #poets on tumblr #writer #writing #old poem #from 2021 #writblr #poetryblr

[ollievjardin]

Sometimes 

When you listen to the shower drain

And you get really close 

You can hear crickets 

I like to think it’s a bridge 

A portal to so e other side? 

The water is how you communicate 

Water, or tunnels

And the crickets are there

And I listen and I wish—

No I know they’re there.

And I feel safe. 

Knowing there’s something more.

Something more to life than this.

#poetry #personal #me #another poem i don't remember writing #poems on tumblr #years old #original poetry #writing #writblr #poetryblr

[ollievjardin]

This cute platypus 

(via)

[ollievjardin]

There is a young prince and a maiden— the prince saves the maiden, eventually making her his princess. The princess loves the prince’s chivalrous nature. He opens doors for her, holds her hand, explores the dark woods with her, makes her laugh. She is nurturing and poised and sweet and beautiful, and maybe possesses magical abilities, and he loves all of that about her. He picks daisies for her, and she puts them in her hair.

In the dead of night, in the torch-lit castle, the princess dominates the prince. She pins him up against the wall. She kisses his neck and leaves a mark. She ties him to the bed, makes him beg her not to stop, makes him plead. She hurts him, and he likes it. Daisies are strewn across the floor. She is in control. He likes that she is in control. She likes that he likes that she is in control. He likes that she likes that he likes that she is in control… She holds a dagger up to the prince’s throat. He begs her for more. She doesn’t stop until there is nothing but ecstasy… Bolts of witchcraft crackle in her hands.

When the prince wakes up, there is sunshine, and bluebirds and fresh autumn air.

When the princess wakes up, she is lying on a bed of clouds.

Somewhere in the basement, there is a cursed spindle needle. Somewhere in the mountains, there is a dark castle guarded by an iron-scaled dragon. Somewhere in the ocean, sirens sing fatal-sweet lullabies to unwitting seafarers. Somewhere in the deepest depths of the woods, there lies a fabled sword embedded in a jagged stone, waiting to be claimed by its one true master.

Somewhere, somewhere, somewhere…

But none of that matters here, now, in the silence of this morning after.

#original writing #short poem #short story #fantasy #literally don’t mind this it’s just for me #fin if you saw this no you didn’t ily <3

[ollievjardin]

instagram | darcys_dahlias

[ollievjardin]

[ollievjardin]

[ollievjardin]

What's that poem about the cockroach and the moth where the cockroach is like "I wish I've ever wanted anything the way that moth wanted to burn itself up in that lantern" because we had to read that in high school and it still fucks me up to this day

[ollievjardin]

I am going to make everything around me beautiful - that will be my life.

Elsie De Wolfe

[ollievjardin]

https://twitter.com/isabelunraveled

[ollievjardin]

always kind of funny when you wake up from a dream and your first thought is "that symbolism was kind of heavy-handed wasn't it."

[ollievjardin]

You always got strange looks whenever you fed the neighborhood ravens. “I give them food, they give me company,” you’d say. One day, a raven excitedly comes up to you and whispers, “A neighbor plots against you, my lord.”

[ollievjardin]

[ollievjardin]

[ollievjardin]

Paintings by John Atkinson Grimshaw.

[ollievjardin]

let me tell you a secret – sometimes i think this might all be a bad dream. every now and then, when the world is quiet enough, when the yellow light hits the ceiling just right, i feel like a child again. sometimes i wish i could find the spot where time is the weakest, touch it, tear it apart, and wake up on the sofa, behind my parents’ backs where i’ve crawled after some nightmare. from the tv, a laugh track. i’m pretending to sleep. it’s summer. see, the balcony door is ajar. see, there’s a mosquito trying to get in. see, my heart isn’t aching. see?

[ollievjardin]

nature series 30/∞