poetgirll

[poetgirll]

One of my traditions is buying myself a gift on the birthdays of ex-friends

[poetgirll]

Listen to me: You get good at things by being bad at them. You learn by failing. You gain competency and a sense of mastery by failing at something many times and in many interesting ways.

The sooner you are able to laugh at your own failures, to enjoy the process of messing up, the easier life will be. Because you'll no longer be afraid of learning.

And once you're no longer afraid of failing, you can learn anything.

[poetgirll]

“you‘re so quiet” baby i’m not even here. i’m fantasizing about a book i read weeks ago. move on.

[poetgirll]

“People are inherently terrible” no!!! Have you ever seen a child wait for their friend while they tie their shoelaces? Have you ever known someone who would bring hurt squirrels and rabbits and mice to the nearest vet just so it doesn’t suffer? Have you seen someone grieve? Have you ever read something that hit your heart like a freight train? Have you looked at the stars and felt an unexplainable joy? Have you ever baked bread? Have you shared a meal with a friend? Have you not seen it? All the love? All the good? I know it’s hard to see sometimes, I know there’s pain everywhere. But look, there’s a child helping another up after a hard fall. Look, there’s someone giving their umbrella to a stranger. Look, there’s someone admiring the spring flowers. Look, there’s good, there’s good, there’s good. Look!!!!

[poetgirll]

I don't think I'm made to be loved for a long time, and that's okay, I've had quite a bit of time to come to terms with the fact. I'm more of a stranger you kiss at midnight on New year's, and the warm body that you sway against in a club. I'm not the one who you meet at a book store one sunny day, or the one you write your number on a paper napkin for.

I'm meant to fill in those fleeting moments between the yearning gaps that remain open in people's consciousness. I'm meant to fill their ribs with temporary calmness, before they're blown away by the storm of love at first sight, love in a cruise, love in a wedding reception, love in a grocery store, love in a school playground, love in a graveyard.

If I were an episode, I'd be those filler ones where everything seems to be going right, and everyone seems to be quite content, but it's not meant to last, it's never meant to last. It's just a glimpse of what could be in a different world, in a different time, with different people.

I don't escape your notice, but I escape through your fingers, it's my fate. It's my fate to make you memorize me and then snatch those memories from you, cruelly so. I have a heart that beats, but somedays I doubt that's true. How can it beat without skipping any beat when it's so worn down and old?

I'm not meant to be loved for a long time, but for a moment when the sky is glowing, and the clouds are high. Only for a moment when it's about to rain, but it thunders instead. Only for a moment when it's windy and your umbrella's broken. Only for a moment when you read a book, and your heart flips because the characters make you feel. Only for a moment when your head touches the pillow and comfort seeps into your bone. Only for a moment when the first drop of water touches your throat when you're thirsty after a long run. Only for a moment.

You leave, or I leave, it doesn't really make a difference. The outcome remains the same. That's alright, I'm only meant to be loved transient.

[poetgirll]

The multiverse is real.

And in one of them, you and i

Are sitting in a restaurant as beautiful as this one

The staff is waiting on us

They're packing up the chairs

Putting away the cutlery

The clatter is loud

But our laughter is louder

Intimacy finding home in eye contact,

We nurture it—

The same way you carass my arm.

The same way i stretch out my hand to hold yours across the table.

The multiverse is real

In one of them i am enough for you

In one of them you can't help but tell me i am beautiful

You don't say it like confession

Instead it spills from your mouth

Like a swimming pool in rain, it overflows.

If I'm being honest, i don't know if the multiverse is real.

But i need it to be.

Because i need to know that there is a version of us out beyond my wildest imagination

Where we did not give up.

Where you chose me, and kept on choosing me.

[poetgirll]

[poetgirll]

"you keep posting your morning coffee, we get it, you like coffee"

I am on a mission to romanticise my life, because while i am convinced this isn't my only time around in this world, i doubt i will remember it to the next. My morning coffee is a gift— it's strong and it's bitter and i have it in the sunniest spot in my house. I take my transit seriously — the route i take, and the people i see. I look out for acts of random kindness.

I romanticise my silly little life, because it's the only one i am going to live in, and if i am not in love with every part of it, what good is it? I'm not waiting for life to get beautiful, one morning. I'm convinced it already is, even on days when i can't see it.

I'm not waiting, not till I finish some degree, till i i get some job, till i meet someone, my life is so full of meaning right now. Right now, this is it. This is my life. And i am so blessed.

[poetgirll]

ABOUT YOUR DAY

"Are you still there?" you ask,

"Yes babe, I'm listening" i mumble, a wipsy voice

I am tired, you can hear it in my voice

But i want to hear about your day

So i ask, and you fill me full of insignificant details

About the cats that found a home in a corner of your backyard

I whisper "hmm" as you talk and you compare my acknowledgement to the purr of a cat

You say i do that when i am tired

"did you know that cats purr out of contentment and comfort?" I ask

"Read my purr as "carry on" and "keep talking""

You do, and i am content.

You tell me about your evening,

How the weather was not too warm and not too cold;

I am content, just hearing about your day

about your day

I am usually so full of life and bubbly i am almost spilling,

But i think, when i am most content i am quiet

Not many people have seen that, but i am glad you have

When i am safe, i speak in a softer voice

Less stress on each syllable

A few decibels lower, i speak in hushed tones.

So i tell you about my insignificant details of the day

About the hot coffee that woke me up,

The journey from my home to University, and the journey back

I speak in a gentle voice

My murmurs humming you to sleep

You say my voice makes you sluggish, and while i begin to take offence

you expand, saying my voice feels like a soft bed, allowing you be at your most vulnerable,

My voice makes time feel un-hurried

So we both find

A sound sleep

A silken slumber

as our hushed tones drop a few octaves

An eventual drifting off and

Meandering, finally.

- e.c.

[poetgirll]

Not every day has to bring great progress, achievements, healing or change. Some days are meant for you to rest, to take a break from all the hard work you have been doing, to be extra gentle with yourself. Some days are simply meant to honour your existence. These days are just as important, my love. They provide you with the opportunity to process all of the transformation you have been through and prepare you for everything that is yet to come. Just like the ocean you will experience strong, crashing waves one day and peaceful stillness another day - it is all about balance.

[poetgirll]

Sometimes "getting better" means it hurts less to get up in the morning. Means it is a bit easier to step into the shower. Means small things make you smile again. This is okay. "Getting better" doesn't have to be giant steps. I'm so proud of you, no matter what.

[poetgirll]

You do not exist simply to be attractive to other people.

[poetgirll]

It hurt, but I don’t regret it. 

[poetgirll]

"is your heart a sponge or a fist?"

[poetgirll]

some little reminders i needed today <3

@lilcowgirl7 \ anaïs nin mirages: the unexpurgated diary: 1939-1947 \ jeanette winterson why be happy when you could be normal? (via @weltenwellen) \ @sunsbleeding \ dante émile it’s winter, i’m not in love yet but i’d like to be \ franz kafka the diaries of franz kafka, 1910-1913: “january 2, 1912” (via @dailykafka) \ sheryl st. germain going home: new orleans \ mary oliver dream work: “wild geese” (via @lesbianherstorian​) \ @inkskinned \ bryan washington visitor (via @typewriter-worries) \ nia vardalos tiny beautiful things (via @julykings​) \ ada limón the hurting kind: “it’s the season i often mistake” (via @firstfullmoon​) \ lev st. valentine there’s this game i play every morning (via @darkerthanerebus​) \ raymond carver rain (via @figtreeification​) \ anis mojgani songs from under the river: “here i am” (via @saintsebastiensbf​)

buy me a chai latte

[poetgirll]

[poetgirll]

manifesting

can't complain about 9ams when this is my commute