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#POETRY?
headspace-hotel · 1 year
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forgettingcrowbin · 3 months
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I have feelings for plumagetale that I need to convey
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cerise-angel · 3 months
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i think he only likes me on saturdays, when we are tangled in each other and then tangled in the sheets.
i think he only likes me on saturdays, when i order chinese food and he lays on top of me.
i think he only likes me on saturdays, when he cant ignore me because im standing right in front of him.
i think he only likes me on saturdays, but only when im happy, and he doesnt have any other schedules.
i think he only likes me on saturdays. and i like him every single day of the week.
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restless50 · 10 months
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Their Cradle Is Empty
Your child, your undead child, your child who looks to you when you enter a room, your child who you killed before they could even break their shell, your child of void and shell and nail and soul who has their mother’s height and your eyes and the void’s blackened carapace, your child who you killed to save your kingdom because no cost is too great, your child who still walks but walks as if they are a statue.
Your child who haunts your wife and is rarely allowed in the gardens, your child whose blood saps your light and warmth and drains your soul like you did to it. Your child whose fate was to seal the goddess, your child who was dead in every way that mattered.
Your child who you never swaddled in blankets, your child who never played with toys, your child who you never held as a storm raged across the surface far above, your child who never slept in the cradle that you crafted anyway, knowing they are dead, knowing you can’t risk bringing them back to life.
Your child is gone.
Their cradle is empty.
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lu-lus-duckies · 21 days
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I have to go to work and be there all day today so I'll be busy. I dunno how to entertain y'all (at this point I think everyone in the polycule just entertains eachother without me lmao)
So for the time being you can have the poetry I wrote in 2023. Just in case
Tw: mentions of suicide (aka soupersexual)
The poem, much like it's writer, is nameless
To the person that doesn't exist
Does hell burn your corpse?
To the person that doesn't exist
Does heaven make it feel worse?
To the person that never existed
Do you find yourself you?
Does it feel like a privilege,
Or does it weigh you down too?
Do you think yourself selfish
For seeking a crowd?
Admire the ants through a glass
While you live in a cloud
Does it ever get lonely
Without perception of time?
Does prevention of living
Come dozen a dime?
To the person I see in the mirror
Did you make up your name?
If I don't exist
How can I be to blame
And when you stay stagnant
And bide by your time
Is it the death of an animal
Or suicide?
To a person that just isn't yet
Do you see yourself clear?
To the person who may not yet
Can you know how to feel?
Don't judge me by my cover
Becase the pages are blank
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today, I'm going to try a little harder.
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Something that I think a lot of trans literature neglects (with good reason) is how much we can really, truly love our pre-transition bodies. We can be actors, models, pieces of art in our own right. There's just this sense of absolute detachment of head from body. Of numbness, of lacking, somehow. We can be the most beautiful creature anybody has ever seen, love and appreciate our perfect and glorious bodies, and still desire to change them. So many trans people see their medical transition as destruction, as complete ruin of their life's work, and yet liberating and enticing and life-saving all the same. Trans destruction is beautiful. We are always more beautiful on the other side.
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where-is-vivian · 1 year
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Regulus "I was born to die" Black & James "I'll give you love until we're ashes" Potter
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goshdangronpa · 3 months
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Izuru Kamukura should've been all white, not all black
Black is the absence of color, the absence of light
There is no absence in Izuru
White is all light, like laboratory fluorescents and shining hope
White is every color at once
And white
Is
Boring
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“Yeah I’d let her smash.”
Okay but would you let her draw you? Would you sit down in front of her and let her study you? Would you let her examine your face, your body, every piece of you as she tries to recreate it? Would you allow her to stare into your face longer than anyone else ever has and would you let her start to notice the very parts of you that you are self conscious of, the parts that you’ve always found comfort in knowing no one is paying close enough attention to you to see these things other than you? Would you let her draw you and watch as she worships every crease, every freckle, every single part of you that makes you look human? Would you let her stare straight into your soul? Would you let her get lost in the image of you? Would you allow her to erase and re draw the same part of you over and over and over again until she can get it right? Would you let her draw you long enough and let her focus on each part of you for so long that she almost forgets what she is drawing? Would you let her fall in love with everything that makes you look like yourself? Would you sit and face the mortifying ordeal of being known so that she might have the lovely experience of seeing you? Would you let her?
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sparks-chaotic-cove · 4 months
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Skin held together with stitches
snakes hissing for hair
golden eyes, the gates of demise
how can you love me with out fear?
why do you not avoid my gaze, my dear?
How could you love the monster I've become?
Dusty ribs poke through my skin
eyes that wander, hungrily,
I'm confused, not amused, at this dastardly ruse
Please just won't you leave me here?
It's not safe for you my dear.
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you can have your manufactured gods, you can have them minted and sealed behind plastic sheaths.
I will settle for the small gods around me, the wind in the trees. I will settle for the warm sand beneath my feet, the lapping waves of a lake at night, and sunlight hitting my cats eyes in the afternoon.
I will settle for the gods I can see and feel as they wrap their blessings neatly into my world.
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I will never be loved as much as I love
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snakes-and-fluff · 2 months
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They all think being the Great Seal hurts.
It doesn't.
In all honesty, I like it here. I can rest easy knowing that they're safe. I can lean against the door and hear voices from the other side. As they laugh and grow as people. When they have a difficult day and almost break down. Those moments containing nothing of much significance, simply relishing in one's existence. I hear them in snippets and feel grateful that they continue to live.
They all think being the Great Seal hurts. It doesn't.
I just wish I could tell them that.
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words-i-think · 18 days
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I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
It’s not a statement-
it’s a prayer.
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personwhowrites · 1 year
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“He says I love you..” Simon paused for a moment and grabs your hands. “I crave your love like moonbeams fall. On features Greek, divine and all.My heart's entranced, I can't ignore your beauty that I can't deplore.You shine like moon in dark of night. Radiant, stunning, in all your might. My heart's captivated, can't let go, for you, my love, forever will grow..”
You remain speechless as he holds your face. He gently rubs his thumb on your cheek, your heart starting race. How could a man like this love you this much?
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