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#longing
feral-ballad · 1 day
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Paruyr Sevak, from Anthology of Armenian Poetry, ed. & tr. by Diana Der Hovanessian and Marzbed Margossian; "Your unripe love"
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letterstoyourlove · 3 days
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“Their grief is in proportion to their affection they know their loss to be irreparable”
-Jane Austen’s tombstone, Winchester Cathedral. (Epitaph written written in 1817 for legendary author Jane Austen by her brother James, in which he describes the grief of all who knew her).
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insomniattic · 3 days
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after burn.
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sickiepickle · 2 days
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What is we got married. For like tax reasons. Wouldn’t that be funny and cool? haha (please say yes)
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cntctchmnw · 17 hours
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15th April 2024
I used to come home from work sweating and hungry to sit in bed and smoke for hours. I wouldn't eat because I still believed someone would love my mouldering body more that way. More than anything I was hungry for you. You used to get upset that I'd talk so desperately about him but I needed something to detract from you. I needed some conduit for the ache I felt for you. I sat in wait for every response and I squeezed every possible meaning from even the smallest of words. Nothing you'd say was ever enough and all the nights I was crushed under it all I'd hope you'd wake up and come save me. In retrospect, I thought of you more as some great omniscient being or angel who'd come to plaster my shaking pieces back together than as a living creature. Sweet angel, you were broken too and all I could think of was how you would save me. I take fragile things and crush them in my weak palms until they shatter and lacerate me in the process. I used you to maim myself over and over again until my hands were too mangled to hold or pick you up anymore.
You used to shake me awake from nightmares of you dying. I watched your sweet soft body crack and break and pieces of me would fall away with it. Do you remember when we'd lay awake before bed and listen to the radio? Occasionally, moments with you overwhelmed me so strongly with contentment that I felt myself leave my corporeal form and sit somewhere soft and quiet in the metaphysical with you.
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saraillustrated · 3 days
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experiencing longing as an aroace person is so odd to me.
i saw a post talking about grieving the romantic experiences and romantic attraction that you may not feel and i think it kinda clicked with me. because that’s kinda what i’ve been doing i think. i’ve been grieving these sort of traditionally romantic experiences that i won’t experience the way others do, and in doing so i try to escape from reality just slightly to imagine if i could experience that. a world where i’m swept off my feet by another and i get to experience life like my friends do- without fear of being alone or left behind by them.
idk, its just food for thought. i’ll probably keep longing, because i still have so much to long for- from experiences with friends and family to even just getting to live life how i want to (i’m a broke art student so how i want to live is to literally just have an apartment of my own or smth) .
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notfavghost · 3 days
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Hug me and reassure me of your love.
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papergirl0 · 8 hours
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When will I be content with myself and stop missing the life I once lived?
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callisteios · 1 year
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Would you like to find out what you would be the god of? Take my new uqiz to find out
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mournfulroses · 5 months
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Mahmoud Darwish, from "In the Presence of Absence," originally published in 2006
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ivynightshade · 5 months
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fatima aamer bilal, from i mother it the absence of her, iii. i am not a person that can be loved for a very long time excerpt from moony moonless sky.
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feral-ballad · 1 day
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from Anthology of Armenian Poetry, ed. & tr. by Diana Der Hovanessian and Marzbed Margossian; "Your bosom"
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Sorry about the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine.
@dog-teeth/nobody - mitski/@ lilrainpoety on instagram/little weirds - jenny slate/@blossomfully/@chaandajaan/strawberry blond - mitski/wishbone - richard siken/salt - salma deera/unable to find a source/mia hollow/the unabridged journals of sylvia plath/nobody - mitski/crush - richard siken
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machinegunbukkake · 10 months
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I just know Franz Kafka would have done fucking numbers on Tumblr
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serpentofdusk · 3 months
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i don't know how to flirt so i just stare at you like a cat dragged out of a dumpster and hope you can see the longing in my panicked gaze
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cntctchmnw · 20 hours
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24th April 2024
I have been worried lately about my relationship with God. I so desperately desire something to submit to. To offer up my entire being, to beg to be washed clean of my desires so I can better serve them; tell me what you want me to be and I'll be it, forgive me for expecting anything of you, you know better than me, I'm ungrateful and even more so, I am undeserving. I am utterly and entirely undeserving, let me prove myself to you, let me prove myself to you, let me prove myself to you. Your love will make me worthy and we'll forgo all of me that has defied you or existed before you. Is this not how I speak to God now too? Forgive me, make me worthy in your light. Let me devote myself to you. I can't for a second let myself escape the need to perform, to atone, to apologise. Some part of me deep down believes some are just born to serve and that I am one of them. How sad, how pathetic. A life of shrinking myself, cutting off limbs and hair, and my words, to fit into one person's mould and sewing my pieces back together to fit in another's. God is another man for me to beg.
Yet still, with the blindest of faiths, I believe he'll save me. I believe he'll pull me out of this hole again. It's different, of course, than expecting my lovers to - this is God after all.
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