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#deep underground poetry
hermitletters · 1 year
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I am too afraid of the sun
for
I always was the daughter of the moon
-sea
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writing-practice1 · 1 year
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Some people survive chaos
And that is how they grow.
And some people thrive in chaos,
because chaos is all they know.
From, wild embers: poems of rebellion, fire and beauty
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sarunamoon · 2 years
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I create my own.
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jury4jaded0jester4 · 6 months
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bibliophilicsapien · 2 years
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I feel like everyone fakes who they really are, when deep down we're all equal amounts of screwed up. Some of us are just better at hiding it than others.
'It ends with us' by Colleen Hoover
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moniverse777 · 1 year
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His Pov :
“People Who Talk About Moon Are Moon Themselves Because They Have That Little Part Of It That Lies Within Them And That Connects Them With The Moon In A Way That They Can’t Help But Always Adore It.”
I Read It Somewhere A Long Time Ago But I Was Always Confused About This Theory Because Every Person Talks About Moon At Some Point But There Is No Way Everybody Has A Part Of Moon In Them So i Found It Absurd To Be Honest.
Until The Day I Heard Her Talking About Moon.
The Way She Adores It.
The Way She Looks At It.
The Way She Wants It.
The Way It Gives Her Energy Like She’s The Wave It’s Controlling Or Causing.
That Theory Made Sense In Every Fucking Way In That Moment.
She’s The Fucking Moon.
And Any Person Who Haven’t Or Wouldn’t Fall In Love with her Is Surely Blind.
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esotericallyquaint · 2 years
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And often, if I were ever to question what is happening in my life, I'd just go on terrace, feel the wind caressing my body, I hear it sing to me, "You know you're so much like me, you want to feel everything, you don't wanna limit yourself, and like me, you'll always find an open sky, no limits, no regrets, and these happenings in your life are to make you yourself, just so that you could always find me touching you, singing to you, and you will keep on realizing things."
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thatonesheikh · 2 years
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what do i have left to give you at this point?/ if you asked me for the moon, i’d build the tallest ladder and bring her down./ if you asked for the stars, i’d grab the biggest of nets and fish them out of the sky./ if you asked me for my hand, i’d tell you it’s always been yours./ you hold my heart at your sleeve and place my art on in your desk./ i’ve given you my trust, my ego, my apologies, each one like an award/ and i’ve got nothing in return./ if asked whether or not i’d do it again though,/ i’d reply “i regret not doing more”./ it’s like you’re placing trophies on a shelf to display how much of me you possess- like a collection filling up your room./ i wonder how many more you’ll get until i run out.
“what do u want for your bday?” || M.A. Sheikh
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writingsbynh · 2 years
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toys in the arsenal
Its so inhuman
Yet its humans very folly
The song and darkness
Cruelty against ones own species
Treating them as beasts for play
As toys in ones arsenal
War was never inevitable
A choice so personal
Innocence is its victim
Of men's strife for destructive power
- 𝑵𝑯
𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑎 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟? 𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒, 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔! 💌
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Look at this... 👀
Look at this... 👀 https://pin.it/64lfTlf
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the-canvas-of-words · 2 years
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I eat up my words like chocolate
Hoping one day they’ll taste sweet
@the-canvas-of-words
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hermitletters · 1 year
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My leaves shed
Empty and bare
I stand raw and naked
My heart beats
I see a foreign entity
staring at me through the mirror
It laughs and cries
I see with my naked eye
It calls out to me
I see wings broken and clipped
My soul has pierced through
the shards
I cry, I cry
My naked body
I see scratches, bruises
scarred and scary
all along it was
The scars I see on my body
The scars scare me
I want to break out of my ruptured body
I want to break free
I wish to be a firefly
glow in the dark
I want to pierce through darkness
I want my scars to glow
which run deep in my soul
I am impoverished, parched
will i ever break out of cage
or
will i keep chasing the mirage in the desert
….
-sea
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wedarkacademia · 1 year
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“I say let the world go to hell, but I should always have my tea.”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from Underground
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sarunamoon · 2 years
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u and i
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jury4jaded0jester4 · 7 months
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about:blank
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ardent-reflections · 9 months
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It is in despair that you find the sharpest pleasures.
Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes From Underground.
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