#not quite poetry

[lostryu]

i love how in the pockets of my leather jacket can be weeks worth of memories. like the acorn she gave me at the farmers market. the marble we found in a parking lot during our road trip. a penny i got as change from grocery shopping, the exact color of her eyes. the bottle caps of the soda we drank when we stargazed in the park. her chapstick. i keep them there and carry them with me wherever i go, a constant reminder of her.

#lost.txt #lesbian #not quite poetry #but still something about her #idk i love her a lot #gf tag

[achilleasfury]

The Liar and the Sect Leader

There is a Liar behind the Sect Leader.

Everyone knows it.

People whisper about it.

The Sect Leader does nothing.

The Liar smiles.

The smile seems kind and sweet.

It is not a truly kind smile.

It is not real.

The Liar tell the Sect Leader things.

The Liar whispers in his ear,

Tells him halftruths.

Everyone knows it.

The Sect Leader is in love.

It is visible,

Once you see him look at the liar.

His face lights up,

With affection and admiration.

The Liar doesn't return it.

Everyone knows it.

The Liar sees how the world is made,

He can feel and move the threads,

Holding everyone up.

He plays the strings.

His hands hold no less than five strings at a time.

One-

on his right ringfinger -

Is a deep, sweet red.

It leads to the Sect Leaders heart.

A tug,

and he moves,

Just like the liar wants him to.

---

Many have tried to free the Sect Leader.

Not one has succeeded yet.

But one day, someone will.

Surely.

It would be so much easier,

If the Sect Leader wasn't in love.

For now, he protects the Liar,

Taking poisoned tea of of his hands,

Blocking an assassins sword.

It almost seems pathetic,

How much the Sect Leader seems to rescue the Liar.

It would be pathetic,

If anyone knew about the attempts.

But noone except you and them know.

Soon, people will know.

They will gossip,

They will whisper,

They will demand justice.

For the Liar is a murderer and his crimes shall not go unpunished for much longer.

You will have your revenge, little bird.

You will have it soon.

Just hold out a little longer.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #jin guangyao #lan xichen #Surprise guest: Nie Huaisang #Xiyao #Prose? #Not Quite Poetry #The “everyone knows it” is supposed to indicate its a false rumor btw #Idk how clear it is #This was written over multiple months so nhs appearing was a surprise even for me #The text under the --- is much newer than the rest which is why it might be different style wise whoops #achillea writes

[arthurcenturi]

being a trans man is so surreal

because yeah, it’s liberating and spiritual and beautiful

and then there’s the part of it that gnaws at your bones and hisses and screams at you for not being the woman you were supposed to be

because you could’ve been so pretty, and instead you were yourself, and that’s probably hard to reconcile if you let yourself think on it too much

#not quite poetry #not exactly NOT poetry #just thinking #transgender #trans man #queer #dysphoria?

[a-list-of-moods]

Seeing echoes of an old friend you lost a long time ago in a new person is so strange.

I've known you since kindergarten. (I met you an hour ago.) I missed you (you don't know me). You're just the way I remember you being (who are you?). Stay here with me (don't leave me again) (you were never the one who left in the first place). It's been so long (I look at you but I see their ghost).

#not quite poetry #old friends #i miss you #who are you

[mandireh]

These Walls

As the light filters in through the windows

I am thankful that these walls will not judge my tears

For this house has held more than its fair share of grief.

I reflect on myself

Questioning

Wondering

Am I deserving?

I am so broken, will I ever be good enough?

And the self doubt wells up inside of me, churning my stomach and causing waterfalls to descend from my eyes.

They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, but my soul feels as if it’s turning into the very tears that it weeps and flooding the windows so the light coming through is filtered, but at least these walls will not judge.

#windows #walls #feelings #emotions #spilled heart #not quite poetry #words #writing #spilled words #my words #female poets #female writers #heartbreak #grief #doubt #quiet pain #eyes are the window to the soul

[bone-breaking-i-love-yous]

Why would you call me “dear” if you didn’t want this to happen too?

#i might love someone i shouldnt #not quite poetry #pining

[itsnotquitepoetry]

I'm not fucking stupid. I know it's not real. But my brain doesn't know. My body doesn't know. They really feel those things no matter how hard I try to convince them otherwise. That's the only thing that makes me believe that there is a distinct mind that isn't my body but tethered to it. I am not the synapses firing in that brain, I'm just subject to them.

#not quite poetry #thoughts #maladaptive daydreaming #nightmares #mind body problem #on some Descartes shit #philosophy

[uneasy-eyes]

Whoever said "...Tis better to have loved and lost," Must, in truth, never truly loved at all. Like rebel angels, who once tasted heaven, know, one loses all one's hope after the Fall.

Like Rebel Angels, Ava M.

#about love #love and loss #sad love poem #angst #sad truth #about loss #breakup #heartbroken #heartache #poetry #not quite poetry #love poem #writers and poets

[nyamadermont]

Has anyone ever given you

Enough

So if I give you

Everything

You will have

Enough

To give some back

#personal post #not quite poetry #nyama’s ponderings

[cerberus-screams]

i said,

let me out of this house, let me out,

run and hide, hide and run, curl up and escape

i dream,

i'm still in there, screaming and shouting

and she never lets him go.

and thus i wonder

if justice was truly served

when you continue to torment me from behind bars.

#. a #. me #. al #actually traumatized #actually ptsd #vent post #one after another today guys #vent account goes hard #. 🔫 #. 🩷 #not quite poetry #just how my brain is working right now

[wizardnamensalex]

Isn’t it poetry?

If I look at my own face too long in the mirror I rip my skin off.

#not quite poetry

[lines-from-noelle]

camhanaich - dawn

definition (n): Early morning, twilight; the half-light of (dawn) or dusk

origin: scots-gaelic

———————————————————————————

it was a long night, but it has now passed. fear of the monsters hidden in the dark; fear of being left by those loved; fear of having no one to hold while asleep: these fears are gone.

with the bitter chill lessening as the sun begins to rise into a pleasurable crispness, a people full of these fears can fall asleep in the early dawn knowing that in the light of the sun, they are loved and cared for; in the light of the sun they have a home and a new chance for a better day; in the light of the sun they may become collective with others who have same the midnight nightmares. with the camhanaich’s faint glow over the night-full horizon, a new morning comes. a new morning arrives with the chance to be awaken anew and become better.

as every culture does knows that each morning, each dawn, each camhanaich, brings a new day

#camhanaich #short writing #not quite poetry #lines-from-noelle #christian writer #based on a single word #how do i format #scots gaelic #i wrote this at night in 2022 or early 2023 #i was in high school at the time <3

[drit-writing]

I’m starting a little writing exercise where I write down one thing that I felt or made me feel a day. Or I’m trying to, it’s harder to write organically when I force myself. It’s in my notes app so expect some angst on occasion. Here’s todays:

I take all this time looking at the beautiful things. The lights, the flowers, the books, the art. Take me to a field and I could name a hundred beautiful things, but not once would I name myself. Is my very existence not art; the art of being? Must I create to be remembered, to be loved?

- (11/17/23 I finished I Fell in Love With Hope again and it does things to my brain chemistry)

#writing #writing exercise #notes app #angst #i think #not quite poetry #idk #i like it

[bone-breaking-i-love-yous]

Some nights I stand in my kitchen and worry over my grilled cheese. I take a peak at the underside, the last side to cook, and the shadows make it look burnt. “Oh no!” I say to no one. I flip it all the way over, grumbling to no one. “Oh! It’s not that bad.” I chuckled and turn to smile at no one. You never actually were here, were you?

I’ll make you a grilled cheese anyway, if you want.

#poems on tumblr #not quite poetry #poems and poetry #my poem #original poem #idk what this is #but it happened 4 seconds ago and I cant eat my grilled cheese until I share it with you all #grilled cheese

[itsnotquitepoetry]

What could be a worse pain than hesitant betrayal? You know (or you think) that you must but after you do, you can't help but wish for a long and torturous death. Betraying someone you love so deeply and so intrinsically that you have no other value once it's done - what could be worse? Even when they forgive you, it hurts. Especially when they forgive you. Because they are so perfect and kind and beautiful that they don't have a single vengeful bone in their body. And you hate them and you love them and you need them and you miss them. Hoping and praying that, despite all God has put you through, He will have the mercy to reunite you in the afterlife. But you know it won't be. It can't be. Because you are evil, you are Judas, and he is better than all of humankind.

#not quite poetry #pretentious #sorry #queer #Christianity #Judas #Jesus #faith #gay #betrayal #relationships #love #regret

[noctuary-of-one]

26.02.23

Where do you get the courage to grow up?

Because I'm so afraid of losing this. I finally have everything perfect and now all of it must change. I mourn at an open casket. All the things I've not yet done last: talking to my father daily, my siblings and I under one roof. One day we will all have different places to call home, and these moments will just be stories when we wind up in seniors homes. And I just don't want to ever hold onto this like that, but I'm already refusing to let go.

#late night thoughts #journal thoughts #not quite poetry #growing up #growing old #i wish i could stay a child forever