stabbedpages

[stabbedpages]

Nothing worth writing about ever happens before midnight

Did I tell you that every time I come home I'm convinced I'll leave in a bodybag?

(Straight to the morgue.)

It is 1 am, mid-july, shit storms and rage-rains

And you.

You always got a little sad(der) when it rained and I told you between mouthfuls of reheated fries that sometimes I thought I was aiming for the sun and not the stars. 

Early February or maybe late Jan

(You know how my months morph into each other when I'm here)

3 am, we walk through the empty streets of our deserted town.

I tell you that I won't know what to do without you Mitski sings francis forever on my speakers

Private concert, just you and I.

I leave you obscure references in my poetry that my new friends won't understand.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Broken record,

Stuck in time.

Train station,

Bags in hand.

My Achilles's heel.

My Danaides's sieve.

My Sisyphus's stone.

I run in circles just to crawl back to you, home.

#poets on tumblr #poems #poetry #greek mythology #writing #prompts #poetry prompts #original poetry #tumblr poems #greek heroes #writingprompts

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Tw....uh????? I wanna say self harm but also not rly and i also wanna say ED but also not rly? Idek man mat padho if u have any triggers tbh just to be on the safer side💀💀😭

I think I've run out of things to write about like the fact that I crave greatness so much that it can't be called ambition anymore. It can't be called determination or perseverance or even greed- it's a kind of starvation. You see, ambition couldn't destroy you half as much as hunger will. This yearning and longing and craving- it claws at the insides of my stomach. Ambition doesn't make you want to tear the flesh off your bones. Ambition doesn't feel like it's twisting your guts. Ambition doesn't feel like it's turning your skin inside out. And I don't think you can call it ambition - the way that I can still feel last night's dinner up my throat. They say that it's this desire to be great that makes me destined for glory, and honestly, I hope they are right because I would choose burning to nothing over falling short of the stars, because sometimes I think it's a classic case of Icarus and that I'm flying too close to the sun but is it bad that I would rather crash and burn than not reach the top at all? Sometimes it makes me wonder if I'm starving by choice. Am I starving because I'm not good enough for me yet or am I starving because nothing will ever be?

#i think i have issues #gifted kid things #gifted kid burnout culture is #gifted kid syndrome #tumblr poems #english poetry #englishpoems #icarus poem #greek mythology

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#dorian gray #prompts #poetry #writing #classics #picture of dorian gray #literature #oscar wilde #inspiration #dark academia poems

[stabbedpages]

And people always told me that I was always great at endings but I guess I don't know how to end this because I was lying on my couch today, watching this one show I love and thinking about how one day I would buy a house that looked just like theirs and there would be cats sleeping on the kitchen counters and windowsills and bedroom floors. there would be a dog or two that would follow me around from the moment I woke up. I would make breakfast in the kitchen, burnt pancakes and toast. There would be fifty plants to water and for once, I would. And there’d be you, wearing my shirt, walking into the room, sunlight dancing on your face as you scrunch up your nose- never a morning person, were you?

And I will pretend it's fine and I didnt like you all that much but maybe one day I'll come back here and find this once again. Maybe I'll have a new life, a new person who wears my shirt in my daydreams and has to eat those burnt pancakes, but I feel like I'd still look back and you'd still be the one that got away. And I will take the harder path just so you hate me less when it’s all done because I'd rather let it be something we will never know than death by a thousand cuts. So we can look back years later and say to ourselves that it was meant to be just not meant to last and it was the right person just the wrong time, that maybe it’s us in another life. Maybe in an alternate dimension, you are walking into the kitchen at 11 am, wearing my shirt and the world is dipped in yellow and I can feel it against my lips when you smile and we can stand here forever before we run out of time.

#poetry #writing #prompts #history #poetry prompts #queer poetry #queer poems

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no thoughts head empty only two young boys leaping on rocks by the ocean, hair blown by the north winds, running through fields of hyacinths, climbing twisted trees, splashing each other in the river, discovering the wonders of being in love in the far away lands of ancient greece

[stabbedpages]

I don't know who the poet is, but if you do, please post the name ~as a comment~.

[stabbedpages]

Most days I think I don't deserve love and most days I have learnt to be fine with it. Then there are some days when I'll stay awake a little too late at night or open Pinterest when I am alone at home or listen to a little too much of sad music in the shower and I will grieve for a love i'll never have.

I told my friend this once and she told me that I did deserve love, that I was so handsome and that I would find someone. But you see, I don't think I am unattractive, I think I'm a bad person. I don't think I won't find love, I think I don't deserve to.

I don't mean that I'm a bad person in the literal sense of the word. I love dogs and cats and most animals and I send pictures to my friends of the things I know they like and I am the first person who would show up if you had a show or a game and if you told me you were lonely, I'd send flowers and I like to think that I am the kind of person who would remember your favourite kind of chocolate and ice cream and your favourite flavour in lollipops.

I think I'm a bad person in the sense that my brain is wired in all the wrong ways. I think I'm a bad person in the sense that I was nothing before I was fucked up. I think I'm a bad person in the sense that my mother always called me a narcissist and I had taken several quizzes to check just in case she was right before I was even 12. I think I'm a bad person in the sense that I'm a bad person to fall for. I think I'm a bad person in the sense that I say a lot of things I don't mean just because I think you want me to. I think I'm a bad person in the sense that I could feed you the prettiest of poems without meaning a word.

#poems #poetry #tumblr poems #mother issues #villiancore #love or the lack thereof #prompts for poems #prompts #poetry prompts #sad poetry #prose poetry #prose #poetry inspo #writing inspo

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I want to write a poem but the words aren't coming. I want to write a poem about chattering your teeth while sitting in your car alone. I want to write about a kiss that happened a year ago. About the plasticky smell of the car’s heater. About dusty pink soybean fields. About almost always feeling that I am too little. That I'm just short of what I need to be. I want to write about how we kept inching closer that entire night. How she made me feel like I was just what I needed to be. Until I wasn't, but it didn't matter because we were getting closer and I wasn't thinking about writing about it-I just felt it.

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It reminds me of 2 am and withered money plants I spent hours filigreeing around my tube light. It feels like the thick sheaf of papers lying in my desk, run through with a knife. It smells like lavender scented candles and the rustic red of blood. It tastes like coffee when you haven't brushed your teeth and muesli on a sleepless night. It reminds me of hours spent hunched over empty pages, waiting for them to fill. It is just another year gone and I don't have anything to show for it.

They make wishes on fireworks and shooting stars and meteor showers but they won't know what it's like, crashing and burning to nothing from the top.

So call yourself Kronos, nails broken and palms bleeding.

Christen yourself Narcissus, water filling your lungs.

Tell them that you are Icarus, wax wings melting down your back.

Scribble poetry on the back of every book like it's a relegion, and you, a saint, because it doesn't matter if this is your downfall as long as you know enough legends' to compare it to.

#prompts #poetry #poetscommunity #books #quotes #writing #poetic #poets on tumblr #greek gods #greek mythology #that Greek mythology kid #its a relegion #and i #a saint.

[stabbedpages]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 250 likes!

:)))) <3

#250 likes #tumblr milestone #thank you

[stabbedpages]

I am Medusa-you can't even look me in the eye,

I crash and burn- I'm the Icarus who survived.

I'm the stories your mother never told you as a child,

Because I climb out of Tartarus and your Gods cower in fright.

[stabbedpages]

My friends tell me we'd be good together and I frown and tell them it's not like that. But then tell me why it's 10 am on a Sunday afternoon and I'm lying on my bedroom floor, writing shitty poetry about you. Tell me why I walk into crowded rooms, always looking for you. Tell me why I turn around every time a door turns open, hoping it's you. Tell me why every time I get a text, I'm always looking for your name on the notifications bar. Tell me what it is if it's not like that. Tell me, darling, what do I call it then?

And I thought the blood on my bedroom floor was for the boy or the girl or the other boy or maybe the other girl that I had told my friends I'd fallen for this month. So tell me, darling, why the ink on these pages spells your name.

And I kiss sanity goodbye at midnight. I text you poetry I know I'll regret, I tell you that I love you and that I can kiss away the scars if you let me. I tell you that it doesn't matter if the world burns as long as I get to burn in your arms, that it doesn't matter if the glaciers and ice caps are melting as long as I have your lips on mine, that it doesn't matter if the world freezes over because I'll have you and our cheap gas station wine and we can dance in the refrigerator light- two slow dancers, last ones out.

#poems #poetry #lovepoems #lovepoetry #tumblr poems #tumblr poetry #writing inspo #writers block #poetry inspo #prompts #poetry prompts #i kiss sanity goodbye #at midnight

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I think I'll miss home when I escape. I think I'll wake up one day and it won't hurt anymore and I'll forget the burning bridges and scalding hate that came with what I oh-so-nostalgically call 'home'. If there are no wounds left to ice and no scars left to hide, I think I'll come back and let it burn me to ash all over again. I think if I run far enough, home will always feel like July. I think if I run for long enough, I'll come back expecting rains in May.

#home is the mouth of a shark #but that doesn't make it any less of home

[stabbedpages]

The queer urge to start screaming, throwing up, breaking down, punching a wall, combusting into flames and jumping off a building every single time someone uses the words 'male' or 'female'

#*stabbing you repeatedly* #MEN #WOMEN #AND #NONBINARY #FOLKS #SAY #IT

[stabbedpages]

I wish my only goal in life could be completing my tbr list bcs this whole education thing isn't rly working out tbh

[stabbedpages]

I won't lie or tell you that I always make happy endings, i don't. However, as sad as they are, my endings are always whole. Like chocolates split in exact halves, no cracks, no breaks. Like hearts broken, swift and clean. Like kisses goodbye and promises to be right here just in case you change your mind.

Yours, on the other hand, were always loose ends and death by a thousand cuts, and barely good enough to make people stay and yet not bad enough that they could leave. Yours were like a story book torn to half and you would never find out where the rest of it was- and what it could have held- or what you did that one day you woke up to find half the pages gone.

I know I'm great at writing ending but didn't you know that when it came to you, i could have gone on forever? I could have kept writing and I don't think I would ever have gotten tired of it. Tell me why you had to go and tear half of my love story down? Tell me why you had to leave me in the middle of the salvages of these inked pages, mascara running down my cheeks, (mascara that was way too expensive to ruin over you, now that I come to think about it) wondering where I fucked up?

#english poems #poetry #love poems #love poetry #death by a thousand cuts #story #short story #writing #writingprompts #writing block #prompts for poems #prompts #literature

[stabbedpages]

Ur in their dms I'm outside their house drawing a penis on their door cuz I want their attention and I'm fucking crazy idk

#true love #true story #we are not the same #the masculine urge #enemies to lovers