#dark poetry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anneverapoetry · 12 hours

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queen-of-sand-castles · 2 days

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Amidst the cosmic symphony, our souls dance to melodies woven by stardust, echoing across the vastness of existence. 🌌✨

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poetricismic · 2 days

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Was too melancholic to shed a tear...So I cried, poetically...

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themachomoron · 10 months

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If reincarnation is real I wonder how many people stare at their own art in museums, listen to their own music they made in a different life and read books they don't remember writing

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the-soulwhispers · 9 months

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C.S. Lewis once wrote,

"I sat with my anger long enough until she told me her real name was grief"

And I think we all needed to hear that.

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its-simply-just-krys · 1 year

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“Mouthful of Forevers”, Clementine von Radics

#not mine #dark poetry #dark literature #vent poetry #poetry #tw trauma #trauma vent #emotional abuse #tw abuse #childhood trauma #daddy issues #borderline personality disorder #bpd blog #bpd vent #actually borderline #quiet borderline #deep quotes #dark academia poetry #classic literature

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dactylicreveries · 8 months

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-Sylvia Plath, The Letters of Sylvia Plath Volume I: 1940–1956

#september quotes #typography #quotes of wisdom #fragmentos #sylvia path #Sylvia Plath #The Letters of Sylvia Plath Volume I: 1940–1956 #letters to aurelia plath #Letters to you #slyvia plath #grief journal #journal #august diaries #august september october november #september #dark acadamia aesthetic #dark acadamia #dark poetry #grief quotes

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dariann-garcia · 4 months

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Haz el bien en silencio, deja que tus acciones resplandezcan sin necesidad de anuncios.

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ivynightshade · 4 months

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fatima aamer bilal, from coffin heart? bury me.

[text id: how did you get so close that i have to dissect you out from under my skin? / memory is a deathbed. remembrance is a grave. the memory of you is a scab that i keep picking so that it scars. a burn, a souvenir, something to claw at that claws back at me. / i refuse to be haunted by something less. / there's a sun-sized ache where your hands used to be. / and now that your place is empty, the blood in my heart pumps around nothing. / nothing. / nothing at all. / senseless circulation. / what am i to live for when i have made my body my casket? / where am i to go from here? / and i always knew longing had another name she wouldn't let me call her by — it's hunger. / my heart grew up to be far more starved than my stomach. / it's the things you learn in your childhood, from the words of your mother, from the hands of your father. / if your teeth do not graze my bones, i do not wish for you to kiss me. / how have i turned gentle love into such devastation? / such greediness? / i carry a coffin for a heart; everything i love must be buried. / plant your garden in the cracks of my skin—mud, gravel, everything. let my blood be water to cater to your needs. / terrible, terrible human, thinks barbarity and love are words of the same meaning. / a mad dog would be a far more gentle lover to the rocks being thrown at him. / and, my dear, i wouldn't ask you to fold me in the pages of your favorite book, just the embedment of fingers between my ribs. / how did you get so close that i have to dissect you out from under my skin? / GET CLOSER.]

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pagesofjasmine · 7 months

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Darkest Academia

A MOODBOARD

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hamoodmood · 7 months

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Albert Camus core

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anneverapoetry · 2 days

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sinking ship

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queen-of-sand-castles · 2 days

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Pondering life's mysteries, vast and deep,

Over hills and valleys, thoughts freely leap.

Echoes of the heart in silence we keep,

Tales untold, secrets that the soul will reap.

Rhythms of the mind where dreams dare to peep,

Yearning for the words that the pen will sweep.

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night-thief · 4 months

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"In the silence I suddenly understood the many ways a person can die but still be alive."

- Carmen Rodrigues, 34 Pieces of You

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themachomoron · 1 year

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When Mary Shelly wrote "I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other" god I really felt that

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the-soulwhispers · 1 year

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The hopeless romantic urge to look at the moon and stars, forever.

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