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#aesthetic poetry
poetryofmuses · a year ago
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'shut up' but like flirtatiously.
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psychastria · a month ago
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Simran, an excerpt from everything and nothing
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aretherestarsinhell · 5 months ago
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maybe all the signs were there-
maybe i just refused to see them.
after all, red flags just look like flags when you see them through rose colored glasses.
-why did i believe you when you said you'd never hurt me? c.r.
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sunshinesortofgirl · 2 months ago
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unknown  //  the song of achilles  //  the creation of adam  //  hozier  //  the magicians  //  euripides  //  sleeping beauty (1959)  //  maria tsvetaeva  //  the lovers  //  sarah ruhl
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alwaysdreamingg · 2 months ago
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"I take off my hands and I give them to you but you don't want them,
so I take them back and put them on the wrong way, the wrong Wrists”.
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mrs-stylesssss · 8 months ago
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Ruskin Bond, The Good Earth
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bluepandapoet · 2 months ago
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Aesthetic verses #2
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redribbonedllama · 11 months ago
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In another universe the sky is always pink and I didn't give up on you, in another universe I'm a better person and magic is real and in an another one we still walk around the streets at late night holding hands and in another, we are together
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th3decadentclam · 3 months ago
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I began becoming that girl again, the girl who had wildflowers in hair, and madness in her soul, the girl who danced, trembling with emotions. I began becoming that girl again, the girl who sang her soul, longing to drink the wine of life again.....
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The music of falling leaves, the autumnal story to tell, as I drink in deep its nostalgic smell. The flash of red, the flash of gold. Yesterday is past, yet, the tale did not grow old.
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Jayita Bhattacharjee
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dead-before-daylight · 2 months ago
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You (Me)
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You were meant to be beautiful
And yet here you dare to sit
This ugly little broken pathetic thing
When did you become this way
How horrific you've become
How horribly broken
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avishichug · 6 months ago
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poetryofmuses · 4 months ago
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The feminine urge to say 'make me' every time a guy tells me to shutup
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psychastria · a month ago
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Simran, ghosts that'll always live
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aretherestarsinhell · 7 months ago
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“i am hard to love.
that, i have always known
but you climbed the barbed wire fences that guarded my heart
and said you were here to stay
i believed you;
that was my mistake
i guess i scared you away;
i was too much for you,
or not enough,
or somewhere in between
but regardless,
the ending remains the same
i am here,
with my lonely, wounded heart
and the shattered remains of every empty promise you made.”
-i am hard to love, but you were easy to lose. c.r.
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angelaries · a month ago
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ritika jyala // claude monet // ivan slavinsky // wendy cope
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alwaysdreamingg · 6 months ago
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Wait for a love that arrives when you least expect it. Love that shows up at your doorstep on a cold wintry evening. A love that takes your hand and presses it against their chest until you can feel their heartbeat. Wait for a love that respects you. Love that doesn't make you second-guess yourself. Love that challenges you to be a better version of yourself. Love that believes in you. Wait for a love that is here for a long run. Love that understands the words 'commitment' and companionship' and doesn't make excuses for a long their mistakes. Love that trusts you and tries it's best to understand your emotions.
Wait for a love that is gentle with your heart. Love that brushes delicate fingers over a hand that has been let go of more than once. Love that knows how much you've gone through to find them. Wait for a love that is there through the difficult days. The messy days. The hard-to-forget days. The days when you are at your worst.To calm your pattering heart. Love that understands how hard it is having a soft soul in a world that constantly pushes you to be hard. Love that doesn't try to change you in anyway. Wait for a love that stays. A love that stays.
(The Office)
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mrs-stylesssss · 9 months ago
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There's something tenderly comforting about coming back to your room after you've spent quite a few days somewhere else. It's an unmatched feeling to know that you bed is still waiting for you in all its ruffled sheets. Your stuffed toys are waiting for you to squeeze them in your arms. Your study corner is clean, no one has moved a single thing in the past few days. Your plants are smiling by the window, happy that their parent is back. The curtains are waiting to be slid right away. And sunlight is on its toes to jump inside your room.
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bluepandapoet · 3 months ago
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15 March 2022.
@poetwhispers
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stabbedpages · 6 months ago
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Do you remember when we were little kids and we used to sit under the oak tree near school? I used to make you flower crowns out of dandelions that blew away with the wind on our way back home, they were your favourite flowers, remember? You used to lie on my scabbed knees and tell me how one day we would both get out of this shitty little town and have a house of our own and how I would be the husband and you would be the wife. A house with no screaming or crying or slamming doors. A house where we would take in the things that deserved so much more love than they got, the wild things, the things deemed useless, like dandelions and frogs and lizards and snakes and black cats our parents always said were ill omens- and us. There would always be room for the unloved, for the neglected, for whoever wanted to stay.
I am still waiting for you here under the oak tree. The dust has settled on that blue sweater of mine that you loved so much. The flower crowns I made for you have withered and died, the breeze has blown away the white tufts of the dandelions. The smell of your perfume has faded from memory and the taste of your cherry chapstick feels like a lifetime away. I'm still right where you left me a few weeks, months or maybe years ago. When you took his hand in yours and now it's his lips you kiss but tell me, does he taste like our favourite chocolate like you told me I used to. Does he know how much you love dandelions or your favourite book or why you love the colour green? Does he braid your hair when you lie on his lap or sneak into your bedroom at midnight because he knows you love cliche highschool love stories? I hope he does, but just in case he doesn't, I'll be right here waiting for you, under the oak tree, the car packed and ready to leave.
I just noticed that all the poetry I write about guys is like murdering your lover or something and the ones I write about girls r simp shit- won't even lie it's complete simp shite.
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th3decadentclam · 2 months ago
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My pinterest homepage
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