everyday I wonder,
how much longer can I do this ??
and then the next day passes,
and the next, and the next, and the next,
and all of a sudden it’s been three years.
and I am still, just sitting here, wondering,
how much longer can I do this ??
479 notes
·
View notes
I’m a whole different person in writing than in real life.. I’m more of myself when I’m writing. There’s pleasure in confessing your sins & your darkest thoughts with ink, it’s almost like bleeding without having to cut.
-Melanie Michelle
Btw, my main tumblr is: @thediamonddove
214 notes
·
View notes
I am always afraid of loosing people I love.
But sometimes,
I ask myself.
Is there anyone afraid of loosing me too?
308 notes
·
View notes
Her Mask
Her sweet words make them happy,
Her kind heart gives them hope,
Her optimism keeps them going,
And not stumble into a spiralling hole.
They think she is an angel sent from heaven,
To cure their ailing heart,
They think she is perfect, flawless,
To keep them from falling apart.
But she is just a girl behind a mask,
Who keeps her pains and sorrows hidden,
Who wants someone to notice and ask,
But doesn't want to burden anyone with her heartbreak.
She doesn't want to show her weakness,
Even though she is hanging by a thread,
Because she was told,
It's not that deep,
Get over it,
Now she doesn't speak.
She is gentle, so they don't know what it feels like to be wearing a mask,
But waiting that someone might just notice and ask.
-Ash
252 notes
·
View notes
the hungry and the hurt fight for power in my poetry.
from my poem, "the prophetic present tense"
33 notes
·
View notes
When you left I walked
into the ocean. Not to
drown but to be held
by something
reluctant
to let go.
Leila Chatti, "Postcard from Gone."
263 notes
·
View notes
These past few days, I've been sober. I left my emotions dormant. Drinking demons to fix the leaking pipes like duck taped wrapped around a water hose. The problem wasn't addiction; no, it was the feeling of not feeling. Not feeling the pain, tiredness, depression, anxieties, alone, problems, not hearing the voices, and the brokenness. It was the novicane to the pain like a toothache. Addiction is the feeling that it gives you; the comfort of not being alone. Not alone from the outside world but in your head. That dark place you get trapped at sometimes. Now I feel everything, overwhelmed and overflowed of feelings that I thought I would hide. I thought it was dormant, but it just became more torment. Yet, these past few days, I've been sober.
49 notes
·
View notes
you can love, and love, and love but if you’re not the person for them, you’ll never be enough. choose you. take your power back, choose you. please.
60 notes
·
View notes
Why is it so hard to write anything about you?… I go to writing when I feel alone, when I feel silenced.. I don’t feel any of that within the small encounters we have. I’m no longer an artist seeking people to relate to me, I’m just a person enduring love and that’s uncomfortable & foreign to me. I don’t know what it is to live or love and not cry about it on paper.
-Melanie Michelle
31 notes
·
View notes
If I die, the world would celebrate the life and mourn the death of a person that never existed.
Unknown
74 notes
·
View notes