#coldfeetonthekitchenfloor

[coldfeetonthekitchenfloor]

They say that the best way to get over someone is to get under… the covers because you can bury a broken heart there in the shadows and the warm. When I ask where I’m supposed to put all this love they tell you into yourself, in little moments of self care because drinking fermented apples stirs up the hurting parts in your mind but this is the first green apple you’ve sunk your teeth into in months and the sweetness and the bitterness serve as another reminder of her…she never liked hers green anyway. They say if you take yourself to mindfulness classes to spend away some hours and work through the aches in your thighs that a magic chemical will kick in and work through the aches of loving her but that was always in the thighs too so maybe it’s the same. They tell you to make plans, to speak listen speak listen speak listen because soon you’ll find the right sounds, soon the crack you know is behind some of your voice will fade out and then you’ll learn how to not save up any stories in a habit of coming home and filling up the space that holds no ears but your own. They say soon, they say soon…you’ll come home and have no words left. That soon you’ll forget about how hard it is to rest unless there’s the weight of an arm across your waist to ground you in all this sleep. I have learnt that a girl cycles through herself in 28 days. That means I haven’t got long left until I’m at the beginning again, until I’ve hit a refresh. But for now, I know I cannot push away the wanting of being pressed against her ribs, of being crushed hard enough that everything in me clicks back into place. For now I can’t let go of the missing touches, my skin a live wire in it’s want of fingertips stroking some ease into nerve fibres, the pure yearning for healing lips as a last kiss upon a forehead. The withdrawals of touch will fade out slowly, and they say that nothing can placate that but the hands of time itself.

#I just wish that times hands felt good #that they could soothe me to sleep #spilled ink #words #prose #heartbreak #writing #writer #spilled thoughts #spilled words #spilled feelings #spilled poetry #spilled writing #coldfeetonthekitchenfloor #love #spilled heart #quote #poetry

[logicaldreamer]

Once you get this, you have to say 10 things (publicly) about yourself that you like. Then send this to ten of your followers :)

ooh it has been a rough week so here we go

1. I work really hard. I never give up. I am tenacious.

2. I love. A lot. I have so much love to give.

3. I write decent poetry.

4. I am a strong dancer.

5. I have a pretty good voice. I love to sing in the shower.

6. I have overcome the obstacles of my upbringing to begin to become the person I want to be.

7. I attend my dream school, and I am majoring in my dream majors, and I love every moment.

8. I like my blue eyes.

9. I like my laugh. I like to laugh.

10. I do not love myself as much as I wish I did, but I am working on it. I have come so so far.

@boomingdreams @coldfeetonthekitchenfloor @eyevorytowr @happinessloveandlife @kenzielawsonpoems @lyricsbylittle @radiantassun @sitatthetypewriterandbleed @thelostanthology @untold-stories-here

#ask #ask me #ask me anything #honesty hour #please ask

[fkafigs]

Ghosts

We both look at each other with empty eyes and hollow hearts. 

I want to reach out, i know you do too. But we’re still mourning what could have been, we’re still seeking something dead long ago.

We don’t know how to love each other,  the shadows of our past are threatening to drown the light. We are trying, we’re trying so hard, but love shouldn’t be this hard, should it?

Skin tries to grasp skin, but one of us flinches away. the memory of touch is still shrouded in a fear of what we have lost.

I will not ask you where it came from, neither will you. so instead we kiss with trembling lips and restless hands trying to pretend like we’re alright when we’re ghosts of what we used to be.

. . . . . . @teacup13 @inkypetals @inkskinned @fluohrine @coldfeetonthekitchenfloor @blackmagicpoetry

#spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled words #spilled poetry #inkskinned #loss #love #relationship #fear #death #anxiety #writing #poetry #prose #scattered thoughts #beautiful #mourning #poets on tumblr #this was heavily inspired by #hoziers like real people do #reblog #teacup13 #yourhandwrittenletter #everylittlepieceofyou #fluorine

[diomedrian]

rules: answer 11 questions, then ask 11 questions, and tag 11 people

Thank you @humongousvoidbear for tagging me.

01. what is your favourite joke?

So many. God. And this one’s not funny, I should have picked the Apollo one but we have read the books and like two nights ago one of my friends and I were talking and she was like I gotta sleep and I was like wtf so early WHY and she was like “collapse” (which was supposed to mean college, but you see, autocorrect KNOWS)

02. favourite author? Lots but Rick Riordan and Donna Tartt tops.

03. are you bilingual? Ummmmmmmm I know English and Hindi, I can understand Sanskrit and Gujarati, I am learning Arabic and Spanish. I soon need to learn Greek. (Woahhhh man OMFGG)

04. fanfics or fanart? BOTH. Please.

05. what’s your favourite ice-cream flavour? Blackforest. Or chocolate.

06. favourite subject at school/college? History. Always history. And English, of course.

07. which is the one place you would travel to? I want to travel a lot. But Greece tops.

08. do you dream? Pretty weird stuff. Chickens and dogs and dragons. Fighting and running and kicking ass. And always some girl kissing me. Lots of skies and flowers too.

09. favourite song atm/of all time?

I haven’t heard English songs in a while but full blown love by the Broods is an all time fav.

10. favourite tv show? House. Forever, House. And two and a half men. There’s a long list after this.

11. who’s your inspiration? Everything. Love and kindness and patience moves me the most. Forgiveness and warmth and passion. Laughter, lots of it. And nature.

My questions: 1. What is your favourite myth? 2. Summer or winter? and why? 3. If you could live in one Universe, which one would it be? 4. One interesting fact about the city you are from? 5. Favourite Superhero(s) 6. What’d be your dream fantasy hair color? 7. When did you start using Tumblr? 8. Would you rather explore a forest or an ocean? 9. Which animal resonates with you the most? 10. One quote/poem that reflects who you are? 11. Floral dresses or leather jackets? I tag: @sonador-reveur @spumes @lafitte @mymellowcupcakestudent @anime-navi @coldfeetonthekitchenfloor @soursweet14 @cymbaldryness @thelogical-sapien @medeae @7-weeks

#oops i forgot i did this #personal

[xprettywhenyoucryx]

What are some of your favorite accounts?

@thevelvetpelican

@coldfeetonthekitchenfloor

@hatin 

@somepiecesofmyheartandsoul

@astrorhea

just to name a few x

[plague2904]

~Excerpts from a book I’ll never write #95 (via coldfeetonthekitchenfloor) One year without Lexa, March 3rd 2017 Your name will echo for eons. Special gift to @reshophaiplana

#commanderlexaedit #lexaedit #myedit #lexa #adc #alycia Debnam Carey #the 100 #the flopdred #heda #commander #leksa kom trikru #clarke #eliza taylor #bob morley #commanderlexadaily #lexa deserved better #lexa's death #one year without lexa

[coldfeetonthekitchenfloor]

Blankets of snow, smatterings, cross country landscape differences. An old home. Something grown. Intellectualising emotions. Laughter crinkled eyes hiding worried multitudes. Superman costume. Not hiding anything, not really. Head on my shoulder, fold up beds, holding my hands between yours like a promise, blowing warmth back into my fingers. Breathing warmth back into my heart. Learning that distance has nothing to do with being apart. A whole lungfull of nostalgia. Somewhere where love has always been on my side. Once in a lifetime hopes. A need for closeness, always. Hangover headaches, suns rainbow refractions. Finding an eyelash on your cheek and using the wish for myself. The sound of the train leaving, can you see it? can you see it? can you see it now?

#poetry #spilled ink #words #prose #writing #writer #spilled thoughts #spilled words #spilled feelings #spilled poetry #spilled writing #poetic prose #coldfeetonthekitchenfloor

[coldfeetonthekitchenfloor]

In between the long drives and the hands of my friends, I get moments to think and all the words sound like,

You’re using our coloured hearts in your ily wars with her. I wonder how many of our jokes were even yours or if they were all mine.

I get parts of me back, a me I used to give away and beat down because your hands couldn’t fit it all into.

Do the messages look the same as ours did? We used to have a mile long distance too, does it make it easier? Is your screen what always made it feel real?

I know now that I’ve been set free, that rejection and redirection are all aching synonyms. I was wishing for a growth you never thought you needed to do.

You’ve gone from gentle to cold in the silence I let you have and I think I might have been falling for the love that I was giving you, the reflection of it all back.

I don’t think having too much wanting, doing too much reassessing is supposed to have ever been a bad thing. I’ve been growing into my days like I’m catching up with aging. The mess of me will never be put away somewhere deep and rotting. I think that was always supposed to be a two way thing. I hope you manage to let yours untangle in a place where it’s not pushed down behind your swallowing throat, so far behind all your closed doors. I never did find the key without breaking it down.

There’s some words that haven’t left my mind since you’ve been gone. There’s not much space left to put them that’s sacred and away from you.

But I’m looking for new ones, I’m opening empty pages. I’m keeping close the hearts who will never be too busy to read my stories. Even if after all these sentences I still haven’t said a damn thing.

#I will stop writing about her soon #but for now #I need a place to put her #so it’s not in me anymore #poetry #stream of consciousness #writing #prose #words #spilled ink #writer #spilled thoughts #spilled feelings #spilled words #spilled writing #spilled poetry #coldfeetonthekitchenfloor #love #spilled heart #hurt #has never felt so good #it’s keeping me alive #showing me how to be happy #how to be free

[coldfeetonthekitchenfloor]

Now that it’s coming back to me, I think when I was 17 I stopped believing in my one religion. I think I started doubting my belief in love. I keep thinking about that quote that goes, watch carefully the magic that occurs when you give a person just enough comfort to be themselves, keep thinking about the way you’ve undone me. The way I’ve finally been nothing but me around someone else, the way I’ve been stumbling through it blindly but laughing like a toddler learning its firsts. So much of myself is a surprise. I’m learning what my soul looks like at the same time as you, I’m hearing the wild parts of my laugh I haven’t heard since I was young and untamed. I’ve had to relearn everything, patience and order and how to silence bad thoughts to welcome the good. What I want to say is that, I’m always unsure but with you things are easy, my body has never been so certain. I’m not saying we haven’t been through anything hard, because my god I’ve been aching for months now, but I look at you and no one else looks at me like that. And I don’t think I want to go about my life anymore without anyone wanting me like you do.

#I guess... for Valentine’s? #not that I’m this cringe #but I am #spilled ink #words #prose #poetry #stream of consciousness #writing #poets on tumblr #quote #love #writers grief #valentine’s day #ewwww #feeling exposed #ColdFeetOnTheKitchenFloor #rambles

[coldfeetonthekitchenfloor]

Directionless, my heart gets pulled around by a name, a sea of bitterness.

I was being loved by halves and thinking when the tide came in it would be enough to save me.

But then the 73% of me guided by the nights sky ended up by your feet.

I find something in the way your dark eyes turn green when the light finds them.

In the way they turn me inside out.

In the way they’re only ever soft when they’re on me, like there’s a gravity in them, like you’re the right side of a magnet.

There’s an earth inside of you made of moon rocks.

You’re the only one who doesn’t judge me. The only one I don’t feel the need to filter myself for. For you, everything I am slips through the cracks, your hands waiting to hold me.

You say, “your name means so many things my star of the sea.”

#idk what this is #I miss you #and I love you #spilled ink #words #prose #writing #writer #spilled poetry #spilled writing #coldfeetonthekitchenfloor #love #quote #poetry

[coldfeetonthekitchenfloor]

I wear a T-shirt for 2 days and then pack it up and it post it off to you in my badly scrawled handwriting just so that you have something of me that feels a bit more alive. Something that might smell like my perfume or maybe my love for you. Last night I didn’t get to hear you say goodnight and I spent an hour worrying about illness before falling asleep- phone open on the calendar app. See I’ve been thinking about months and milestones. I have all this time on my hands but for once I think I might want someone else to write it all down, to do all the spilling. Because there are no words for what it would be like to smile at you and have you smile back in real time instead of recordings. I’m trying not be bitter but the world has taken a lot from me this year, and I think, of all of it, to take you from me was the cruelest.

#spilled ink #poetry #words #writers grief #prose #writing #poets on tumblr #where’s my poetry gone #ColdFeetOnTheKitchenFloor #love #stream of consciousness

[coldfeetonthekitchenfloor]

You didn't mean to back then, but you made me love you.

You made me let you in,

and let you in,

and let you in.

So you can't blame me now for falling apart at all the distance, for breaking down when I think about how far we are from how we used to be.

See, I loved you when I didn't know how to love, see I loved you even when you didn't want me to anymore,

and that's your fault. Not mine. 

#the first time we’ve spoken in months #she takes 10 days to reply #and I reply back within 34 minutes #ouch #certain eyes #spilled ink #words #prose #writing #writer #spilled poetry #spilled writing #coldfeetonthekitchenfloor #quote #love #Pisces #wish I didn’t miss her

[coldfeetonthekitchenfloor]

You’re asleep next to me but I’m not with you because my anxiety is playing up again. After kissing the back of my neck you turned away to sleep and I’m not sure if you could tell I was still awake or not. I don’t know if you know me like that yet. I’m trying to stay still, I’m trying to use the way your back is resting against mine as comfort. I’m trying to pretend that the way our bodies are curled away from the middle makes us look like butterfly wings. See what my body wants is to put space between us, to move up against the wall. My mind wants me to run, to leave your bed and climb into my own empty and freezing sheets. Anxiety tries to make me into a martyr. There’s still so much I’ve got to learn, I’m still so brand new to anything that makes me feel anything because I’ve been denying myself it for so long. And I keep thinking about how you laughed at me earlier and told me I’m a classic water star sign for being so sensitive even in being adamant that I’m not. See I don’t want that part of me to exist. But here I am, awake and aching like a dog that’s been kicked, all because you said you weren’t in the mood. And I want to know how I make myself feel secure enough in your arms that I don’t overthink that instead as different words. As “I don’t want you”, as “I don’t want you”, as “I don’t want you”. But I’m awake wanting to bash my head against the wall for being so stupid because your embrace has told me nothing of the sort, you’re just tired and you’re bored and you have a long day of work tomorrow. Because we’ve been together a lot and my god my appetite should probably be sated. I know all this, I know it all. Instead I think of how I may have been too much, how maybe this body isn’t something I should have so easily shared. Rejection comes so easy to me that I’ve always run at the first sign before it can catch me again. But I can hear you breathing and even its sound feels so easy here, you laying beside me is just so easy here and my god you’ve stayed. After all the people that have left me, you’re staying and I think I need to stop believing that the turn of your head means anything else but so that when you turn back you can smile at me again.

#mental illness init #anxiety can fuck off me man #so scared to give anyone a chance #to hurt me #but it might be too late #spilled ink #prose #poetry #words #spilled writing #spilled poetry #poets on tumblr #anxiety #sleeping #overthinking #ColdFeetOnTheKitchenFloor #stream of consciousness #bit of distance #might do me some good #think I need it #even if I don’t want it #even when I want the opposite