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#original poetry
and-corn · 8 hours
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robertjw4688 · 2 days
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Growth is not
a straight line
nor is it a
fault line.
Growth is
a semicolon
placed where an
ellipsis
once slept.
Robert J. W.
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serhatdoganpoetry · 2 days
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novinablog · 3 days
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If no one wants me
Don't worry
I exist for myself
I will take care of myself
And I will love myself
More than anything
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poppiesandpromises · 19 hours
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Who would you be if
You weren't struggling to survive?
What could you accomplish past
The fear of financial collapse?
What would a day look like
Without a time clock, slow grind—
Would you find your worth
If you weren't bought and sold?
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bonniewame · 3 days
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I don't feel loved, but not because I am not loved. But because I don't know whether it's right.
You smile at me? Why smile. Is there some malice you hold between the togetherness of your teeth as you grin at me with crinkles under your beautiful, pretty eyes - I'm so lucky and undeserving - that hide depths of irritation for my presence?
You talk to me? Why converse, when my voice only proves to move you towards annoyance that sets your lips into thin lines, and drags your eyes around in arches? I cannot understand where your sarcasm and seriousness have started and ended, and this distresses me. Would you like me to talk more about it? No, no, I shan't; I talk far too much.
You love me? Why save me. Don't lie, I'll understand. I'm not anyone here's favourite, I sit quietly until called upon - why call? - I ache for love, and yet I'm not sure I'm even liked.
I'm too cheery. Too loud. Too quiet. Too Much. Too obsessive. Too clingy.
I'm sorry I touched your arm, I've been so desperate for you to reach out for me that I've overindulged myself and I apologise for it. I'm sorry I won't leave your side, I'm quite scared of people and you're warm and I have named you Comfort. I'm sorry, I really am, for loving to talk to you, because conversations with you are soothing to the chest, and I like you and your passions, and I hope to talk to you forever if only to make you laugh.
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inbtwner · 10 hours
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if someone told me they loved me every 5 minutes, i think i’d live forever
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myunspoken-thoughts · 10 hours
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3.28.24
For once, I don’t have this gut wrenching pain in my chest when I think of you. My head isn’t racing with thoughts of you going a million miles a minute. I feel nothing and it feels great.
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infprincesss · 3 days
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jovialtorchlight · 3 days
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Glory I saw your face and my salvation expanded. My faith blossomed beyond doubt; and - in your eyes - I saw 1,000 beginnings. The makings of memories to come.
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waitingforthesunrise · 9 months
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Just realized that the reason I love making friends on tumblr is because it’s exactly how you make friends on the playground as a six year old. No, I don’t know their name but they love mermaids too and built this awesome sand castle. No, I don’t know their age but their imaginary cheetah is friends with mine. You like this show? You like this character?? You can sing the theme song really loud??? Here is a flower crown. Here is a juice box. You can share my time and I might never see you again but part of you stays in my soul forever. In my mind we’re still on the swing set and the sky is blue and nothing will ever be wrong again.
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robertjw4688 · 20 hours
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I have wasted
years swallowing
light whole when I
should have been
savoring the taste.
Robert J. W.
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You meet god and she's mostly dead fish. You ask her why and she says most of the world is dead fish, and she's made herself to appeal to the most common denominator, the everyman funnyman comedy show that runs for eleven seasons but with the entire universe in mind. You ask her how much of the dead fish is your fault, she says it's far less than you'd think, in the grand scheme of things. You ask her if you matter at all. If you can do anything. She shrugs her rotting shoulders and says mattering is a made-up concept, like life, but sure, you can matter if you want to, on some scale. She has many scales. She doesn't know what you mean by 'anything', but you can do everything you can. You ask her if it's enough. She says there's no base requirement for deserving to exist. She's smoking a joint and the smoke filtering out of her gills gathers and forms gas giants and red dwarfs. You ask her if there's any hidden secrets of the universe you should know and she says it's not a secret if she tells, plus it's fun to let you figure it out yourself. You ask her if any of your questions were right questions and she says you worry about being right so much it might keep you from fucking around, which is as close to meaning of life as she ever bothered to make. You don't ask but she says she loves your hair, also your whole being, also your planet. She says she figured out what love is yesterday and is trying it out, which explains the ten thousand rainbows and sudden influx in rains of fish. She offers you a drag of her joint and you wake up half past midnight behind a chain restaurant clutching a smoked salmon. The new stars are winking like they're in on some joke and you're sure if you try hard enough you'll remember what it is.
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and-corn · 7 months
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