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#my poem
alhwrites · 5 months ago
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you are the most permanent thing in your life. always. that won’t change. ever. so put you first. prioritize you. choose you. you, you, you. your needs, your wants, your dreams, your feelings, your happiness, your peace. never sacrifice any of that, and do not spend your entire life treating people who might be temporary better than you treat yourself.
— alhwrites
especially if they act like a temporary person: bare minimum, low effort, confusing, unkind, shitty, toxic.
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alhwrites · 5 months ago
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I don’t know who needs to hear this, but Valentine’s Day is a day for love. Not strictly a day for couples. You can celebrate love without having a partner, because romantic love isn’t the only love that exists. You can have love for your family, for your friends, for your pets, for yourself. For whatever you want, honestly. I had been dreading the holiday because I didn’t have anyone to spend it with until I realized it was still a day I could participate in. It’s not exclusive to anyone. In fact, I plan on using it to be extra kind to myself, since sometimes I’m not. I’m going to practice self love on Valentine’s Day to make up for the times I haven’t. I am the most consistent thing in my life. My body does what it can to keep me alive. I deserve to treat it well. I deserve love, too, whether I’m in a relationship or not. I want some flowers, so I’ll be getting some. I want some hibachi, so I’ll be getting some. I want a nice bubble bath, so I’ll be taking one. You don’t have to be “in love” with someone else to celebrate; you can use it as an opportunity to show love to yourself.
— alhwrites
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fangirltothefullest · 6 hours ago
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Cause all along you’ve tried to fight it Bruises on your neck- clip on a tie and hide it Wring your hands till your knuckles no longer abide it How long can you keep your tongue and bite it? 'Til there’s nothing left to hold and the fire ignites it And leaves you burning mourning yearning inside it?
So Logan huh?
@thatsthat24
If you like it, please reblog it! <3
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fightingborderline · a year ago
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And tonight you'll probably fall asleep without thinking of me. Not knowing my whole day was filled with you again. My thoughts are about you, the rest is all fading away.
fightingborderline
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tmpoem · a year ago
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Sometimes in the dark
I think about the past
A hatred comes up
A hatred for me
A hatred for the past
A hatred for what I've become
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alhwrites · 5 months ago
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I feel like other people maybe have a bigger impact on me than I do on them. I adore humanity, so I tend to hold on to whoever and whatever I can. The memories, experiences, and feelings I share with another person affect me so much. They help me change and grow, molding me into a better version of myself. I think other people are so wonderful and valuable and special, even if they weren’t the nicest to me. I think about them often, and am always thankful for the time we had together. Or, at the very least, thankful for the lessons I learned from them. A part of me will miss them forever; once you’re important to me, you stay that way, however much. I still have love for everyone I’ve ever cared about, all circumstances aside. But I can’t imagine anyone feeling the same in regards to me. It’s like I’m a speck of dust on the floor of a big house, something to overlook. A word in their vocabulary that isn’t spoken often. A fleeting moment that they won’t dwell on. A temporary character, someone they’re ready to leave behind. I can’t fathom someone remembering me once we exit each other’s lives, like all I am is forgettable. It doesn’t bother me too much, I guess, because you’re supposed to move on. That’s how it is. I just hope the people I’ve met got something positive or meaningful out of their time with me.
— alhwrites
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tmpoem · a year ago
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I’m silent sitting in my room, as tears run down. Thinking about the past, scared of the future. Feeling alone, wondering if it will ever change.
t.m.
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shepraises · 2 years ago
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To the boy who loves me:
I love Jesus.
I love people.
I like ramen.
I don’t get enough sleep.
I laugh at my own jokes.
Sometimes I get sad and don’t know why.
Sometimes I will need your shoulder to rest my head on because the weight of my thoughts will wear me down.
Sometimes I won’t tell you what’s wrong because there are no words with which to describe it.
I love flowers.
I love the sound of rain.
Poetry makes me giddy.
Injustice angers me.
I can’t wear makeup to save my life.
I love children. So much.
You will have to remind me to put sunscreen on.
I love a lot of things. You will be one of them.
I will get frustrated. Be patient with me.
I will be insecure. Remind me of my strengths and call me out when I am in the wrong.
Buy me coffee. Only decaf because caffeine makes me anxious.
I love books.
I love when someone knows me intimately.
And lastly, love who I am becoming. I am not there yet, but I will be someday.
- a.k.
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fightingborderline · a year ago
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When you find comfort in your sadness. That's when you know you're fucked.
fightingborderline
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writethatdown · 6 months ago
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let's talk more about deeper stuff. yes. go ahead and ask me about my opinions on soulmates, about what i think about stars, tell me about that cute cat you saw on your way to school, about a bunch of flowers you bought for your mom. tell me how you would describe this world, your aesthetics, your visions and dreams, about secret adventures still oblivious to your parents. ask me about the time of history no one cares about, about art and poems, talk about a favorite tattoo you would like to have, your favorite songs and what they mean to you, that movie which made you cry. describe that person you are in love with and your plans about confessing to them. do you like rooftop conversations or sleepovers? do you regret something so badly it keeps you up at night? what is your story? how do you want it to be? what do you want to be? tell me more. tell them all.
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tmpoem · 2 years ago
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I feel out of touch with every emotion I have. I struggle to identify  what I feel. Sadness, anxiety, apathy. I only truly exist.
t.m.
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wanderingworlds · a year ago
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Writing terrifies me. Half of the time I can’t tell if it’s healing or hurting me.
Am I working through things or just endlessly re-living them?
WanderingWorlds
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