#drunk poem

[akitachan0422]

Obeisance

I pay no obeisance to anyone tonight

But myself

This night is for me, alone for me.

The air even smells of memories.

The crushed and skittering leaves,

Bring back the simple technicolor 1990s

I pay no obeisance to anyone tonight

But myself

It’s that Cursed holiday between

Halloween and Christmas

The night all turkeys dread with great

grace,

What can I offer, except what I make?

What can I offer, except what I take?

A grander palace, maybe.

A thousand more questions, surely.

An akward pause, an unwanted limb

I’m always happy to offer those again

I’m sorry my plan doesn’t fit weigh into

yours surely,

I never bloomed on time, always too late

or too early,

The last of the hail

Are hitting me, striking me, hurting me,

In my head and memories

Is it snow or just rain made crispy?

New England can’t decide

She’s my constant maybe.

If I died right now,

Would anyone mourn me?

Surely, a few, not you though—

But maybe?

A thousand movies, a thousand words,

A cold November wind does more good

than it hurts.

And tonight, I’ll pay obeisance to me,

The only one I know I love,

Maybe.

And if I die, maybe when I fly,

All I can ask is, please, will you mourn me?

#poetry #writing #freeform #freeform poetry #depression writing #depression #thanksgiving #happy thanksgiving #poet #writer #drunk writing #drunk poem #Boston #New England

[noctuary-of-one]

05.05.23

3on wo4jr

Ej

3mich ta EI asxhjkn

1

#im posting this in the morning because i was too drunk to yesterday #i think its funny #sometimes alcohol enhances my poetry #and sometimes it reduces it to nonsense #late night thoughts #drunk poem

[soracities]

This morning is drunk with spring sun, And on the terrace the smell of roses is louder...

Anna Akhmatova, from “This morning is drunk with spring sun” (excerpt from “Deception”, in Evening), The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova: Expanded Edition, trans. Judith Hemschemeyer

#q #lit #quotes #poetry #spring #anna akhmatova #this morning is drunk with spring sun #complete poems of anna akhmatova #reading #m #russian lit #x

[flowercrowngods]

It's unreal. The light is streaming in through the windows, the curtains still drawn to block out the midday heat, tinging their living room in golden hues that match so well with the light grey fabric of their new sofa.

Eddie should probably snap out of it and head over to the windows, open the curtains and let the light in, and with it the warmth and fresh air of a surprisingly wonderful day.

It's March, he hears the echoes of Steve's giddy voice a week or two ago. Everything's better in March.

Eddie didn't agree then, and he's not sure he agrees now, but he must admit there is something magical about this moment.

Still he remains rooted to the spot, leather jacket heavy on his shoulders, his hands hidden in the sleeves of it, just in case this really is a dream. Just in case someone will come in and snap him out of it, take away their couch and leave an eviction notice.

It's dumb. But Eddie doesn't deal well with things that are unreal. Things that he knows aren't meant for him. Things that he knows he only gets in this one play-through of his life, while millions of other Eddie Munsons are out there in parallel universes who never get to even lay eyes upon a couch this nice. Let alone buy it. From their own real adult money.

It's a corner sofa, the fabric light grey, and he remembers it being harder than it looks. Solid. Just perfect for both their fucked up backs, scar tissue pulling if they sit wrong for too long, phantom pain and muscle aches coming in hot when all they want is to just relax and enjoy a lazy evening.

Eddie bites his lip, trailing his eyes along the pristine fabric, the pillows lining the back of it, the flawless stitches keeping everything in shape.

They have a couch now. A sofa.

It's so fucking unreal.

He drops to the floor right then and there, sitting with his back against the wall, and never once taking his eyes off their sofa. It feels important to look at it for a while. It feels important to wait for Steve. It feels... It feels like maybe he'll ruin everything if he goes and sits on it now.

And it feels really fucking big.

At some point he hears the front door opening, their lock going so smoothly now that Steve fixed it with some graphite, and the sound makes Eddie smile. That's another thing that's unreal. The key barely making any noise, the lock not rattling, the door not creaking and cracking. Eddie pulls a strand of hair between his lips, the smile feeling too silly for this room, for this home, for everything he gets to have now.

For all the tiny things that matter now. All the tiny things he gets to have, turning the key's smooth slide into an allegory of everything he ever wanted but never dared to hope for.

The slide of curtains, the click-click-click of the window handle being turned to let the air in. The breeze of fresh spring air dancing around his nose.

It's all a little much. It's so fucking addicting.

And then Steve. Socked feet coming to a stop beside him, a hand landing in his hair, a voice that's so endlessly warm and fond and maybe a little worried sounding from above him, "Hi, angel."

"Hi," Eddie says, tearing his eyes away from their couch to meet Steve's. The sunlight from the windows hugs him, making him glow. Eddie smiles. He smiles and smiles and never wants to stop.

Steve hums as he leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, and Eddie weaves his arm through Steve's legs, holding onto his knee.

Everything feels a little less silly now. Like every time Steve doesn't question his little moments of sitting on the floor and just staring at things.

"We have a couch now," Eddie says, because it feels important to point out. Because Steve isn't looking at it.

"We do," he hums. "I got the call earlier. Thanks for helping with that, baby."

Eddie nods again, leaning his cheek against Steve's knee and trailing the couch again with his eyes. It looks brighter now that the curtains don't turn the room into something out of a sepia-type movie anymore.

Steve's hands comb through his hair, massaging his scalp a little with his nails. It's nice. It's warm. It's pretty.

And it's so unreal.

"I'm twenty-four," Eddie says then, and some part of him wants to carve that into the fabric. He won't. But maybe he should carve it somewhere else. "And I own a couch. It's a little crazy."

Steve comes to sit down beside him, their shoulders pressed together and he links their hands, resting them in his lap after a brushes a kiss to Eddie's knuckles.

"Why's it crazy, angel?"

He shrugs, resting his head on Steve's shoulders and curling into his warmth some more.

"Most of my life I never thought either of those would happen, y'know."

Another hum, followed by another kiss to the crown of his head. Another smile.

"But you did it," Steve whispers. "You made it. And we've got a couch now."

"We've got a couch now."

Saying it out loud doesn't make it feel any realer. It only makes his heart race and his eyes prick.

"I love you," he says, finally looking away from pretty grey fabric to meet prettier hazel eyes. "I love you so much."

Steve leans in, kissing the tip of his nose. "I love you. Thank you for buying a couch with me."

And it occurs to Eddie then that Steve understands him. Sitting there on the floor with him, hearing his words and listening to those unsaid, understanding Eddie on such a fundamental level that it should be scary. And it is, sometimes.

But he's not scared now. Because they have a couch. And they have pretty curtains that keep the light outside and still turn the room into something magical. And they have a lock that only needed a bit of graphite to let the keys glide smoothly.

And they have each other.

They stay on the floor until Steve's stomach growls, and they eat dinner with their backs against the couch and Eddie's feet in Steve's lap. They hold each other close after dinner, just breathing each other in as the breeze blows around them.

In the end, Eddie is the first to sit on the couch, with Steve standing between his legs and giving him a scalp massage in silence. In the end, Eddie buries his face in Steve's stomach to hide the tears, and Steve lets him.

Because this is real. And he gets to have this. They both do.

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid@hotluncheddie @gutterflower77@auroraplume@steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important@stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround@pukner@i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic@bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @awkwardgravity1 (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)

#steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie #steve x eddie #listen i have a couch now and if you know me you know that i get really fucking emo about the tiniest things #i fixed my lock with graphite btw when i was blackout drunk. it still fills me with so much joy #sorry tag list gang idk what this is but it wanted out #i could write fics/poems/whatever about the most mundane things until the end of my days tbh so today we have: couch #dio words #dio's steddie ramblings #the hurt/comfort is implied like you'll catch it when you reflect on the words but most importantly this is healing. and comfort. and fluff #and so much love and understanding it makes me wanna throw up

[fuckingwhateverdude]

#drunk again but #jeopardy card format i love u so #my writing #my writing tag #poetry #original poem #spilled ink #vent writing #mental illness #repetition #anger issues #bipolar disorder

[tellherium]

It was Never about You //

3 of 3: Poems From the First Evening I've Spent Alone in Over a Month

#mine #spilled ink #twcpoetry #writerscreed #twcwriting #tellherium #excerpt from a book i'll never write #alt lit #blossomfully #prose poetry #spilled words #love poem #heartbreak #someone you loved #someone i loved #love #writers on tumblr #twcpoets #drunk poetry #first evening

[safenottosay]

I love you with all my heart, I hate you with all my soul. I enjoy you with my eyes, I am displeased with your existence. I love the warmth that you bring, I despise the coldness I feel with you. I am drunk in your dance, I'm sober in your voice. I hope you live forever, I expect your death tomorrow. This is my affection.

#love #poem #poetry #love poetry #unrequited love #art #literature #im losing my sanity #original #i'm so drunk #romantic #romantic academic #quotes #excerpt

[knbpoetry]

Glow ✨

#poetry #quotes #my writing #spilled thoughts #spilled ink #spilled words #scribbled thoughts #scribbled words #life quotes #words #life poetry #original poem #poets #deep poetry #cute poetry #poetic #poets on tumblr #writersofig #writersofinstagram #spilled writing #drunk writing #writer #writers on tumblr

[ragewrites]

last poems of 2023, both holiday gifts meant for the same friend.

#spilled ink #poetry #poets on tumblr #poem #writeblr #2023 #i'm quite. quite drunk. but #looking back on 2023...actually the past few years have all been quite extreme emotionally speaking #but i am so glad. so glad. it killed neither my compulsion for writing #nor my love for my friends #my love in generaly rlly #so so so glad. #may 2024 treat me kindly. may it fan my love and only my love with no new griefs. may i be full of sap. may i write and write with ease. #i want to play more with language and form...yes even more than i have been throughout 22/23...more more more always more #and i especially want to go back to erasures this year i miss erasures so much. and found elements in general ahh #anyway. i'll. stop rambling ahhghj see you all tomorrow whn i'm sober and i've edited tonite's midnight drafts to smth that's presentable #love n grace x

[akitachan0422]

Traded Me In

It’s alright if you’ve traded me in

I’ve already consulted my tonic and gin

And we’re lost again.

Never wandered down this path before

Makes me feel like you like being alone more

Ive consulted my tonic and gin,

It’s fair enough that you’ve traded me in

Did you have to go ahead

And hate me for my sin?

Loving you, not letting go,

Like a fungus, I let nostalgia grow.

I lived too much,

Died hard and went fast,

The blooming potential you always had,

Was never in my grasp.

Lost friends,

Broken threads,

At your table,

We never broke bread.

Lost hearts,

Strings lost,

Marionettes strewn all over the floor,

in the dark.

Last words,

Unsaid,

No tables broken,

Only bread.

#poetry #writing #freeform #freeform poetry #drunk writing #writer #depression writing #drunk poem #poet #nostalgia #lost friendship #poem #poetry freeform

[sanddollarpoems]

And I wouldn't mind

Getting caught up

In your arms

Tangled

Like grass along the edges

Of a fast moving river

I wouldn't mind

Your fingers in my hair

Lips against my skin

Tongue on my neck

I could surrender to you

In a breath

In a heartbeat

Should you so want

To tame me

#sanddollarpoems #spilled ink #poem #poetry #quick write #sextry #poetryslutsreloaded #drunk poetry

[drunk-vampire]

Haunted by ghosts of what could have been,

bleeding by the grasp of what was

Truly a puppet to my own demise,

I'm shackled by my own lies in this room

Staring as the ceiling lowers

In my mind, pain and rage are tangled

Dancing to a symphony of unspoken blues

The weight of unshed tears, like a heavy cloak

The lightbulb flickers, scared to shed any more light to this eerie scene

Lost in the labyrinth of my own design,

Wandering through the corridors, looking at the broken portraits of people I loved

The echoes of regrets, guiding me like a haunting choir

Nearly insane, waltzing to the sound of my own lies

Torn between what was and what could be

Promises and broken words carry the scent of whiskey and regret

As fragments of my soul mix with the shattered glass on the floor of my bedroom

The lightbulb flickers one last time before the stage goes dark

A final curtain falls

#poetry #quoteoftheday #dark poetry #literature #original poetry #original poem #poem of the day #angst #spilled ink #spilled poetry #spilled thoughts #spilled words #drunk posting #drunk thoughts #poem and poetry #words #prose #feelings #lit #poetic #dark academia #goth #art #artists on tumblr #text post #daily poem #poems and poetry #my poem #poets on tumblr #text

[rellscribbles]

You're just a personification

Of what I longed for

Now I'm left to fend for myself

[hersurvival]

You told me to tell you secrets,

Fun facts, and admissions

But I think I went overboard

And I am so sorry

It's just..

I get so excited talking to you,

Even when I know you are sleeping,

Because it has been such a long time

Since I have been honest

And there is so much I've never told anybody

But I know you will not judge me,

I know that somehow

You might even find me more interesting

That's all I want

For you to take interest in me

And forget everybody else

To one day be your everything,

Your somebody

#also #don't take this seriously #not this one either #still drunk #more drunk #let's go #writing #poets on tumblr #poem #poetry #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled poem #spilled writing #original writing

[tellherium]

my angel numbers have moved from 111 to 222 and I am doing my best to think more than ever

#mine #spilled ink #twcpoetry #writerscreed #wnq writers #twcwriting #tellherium #excerpt from a book i'll never write #alt lit #blossomfully #prose poetry #spilled words #love poem #heartbreak #someone you loved #someone i loved #love #writers on tumblr #twcpoets #drunk poetry #wnq poetry

[artemis-moon101]

made a little ms paint doodle inspired by the poem moon drunk monster (below cut)

#moon drunk monster #poem #art #my art #werewolf #werewolf art #art based on poetry #werewolf drawing