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#poems by me
felonys-amazing-poetry-tm · 5 months ago
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you‘re fucked up. and you’re tired. you are so, so tired.
so you write
you write them broken, you write them human, you write them spitting blood out of bruised lips, sneering and crying.
you write them desperate, you write them lonely in their bathroom, eyes red. you write them with broken mirrors and you write them angry.
you write them like they could be loved, like they are on the edge of being loved, like they could just be loved if they were only to try harder, to be enough.
you write them hated, and hating themselves, you write them ashamed and begging to God, you write them ears ringing. you write them panicked and aching, and yearning and empty.
you write them hungry, you write them with cracked lips.
you write them and you pretend that it’s not you in the pages.
you write them and pray to God yourself, that you’re not being written too.
you write them.
you’re so tired.
you keep writing them.
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remorseful-regretful-guilty · 6 months ago
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like mother / like daughter
UGLY WORDS SLIP OF MY MOTHERS TOUNGE
LIKE VENOM WRAPPED IN VELVET.
DO YOU RECOGNIZE ME IN YOURSELF?
I DETOX MY FACE EVERY MORNING,
AS YOU APPLY ANOTHER LAYER OF FOUNDATION
“IT'S TOO LATE FOR ME NOW” YOU LAUGH. IT’S THE REGRETFUL KIND.
I AM ALL YOU WHERE
YOU ARE ALL I CAN BE
CRACKED MIRRORS OF EACHOTHER.
SCREAMING;
“WE ARE ONE AND THE SAME.
LIKE MOTHER LIKE DAUGHTER.”
- "short poems about my mother
and the girl she used to be" collection by me
my main: @edgyartkid
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padawan-historian · 3 months ago
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Referring to oneself as Black is done out of self-love and a desire to remember the extinguished stars and rolling seas of our ancestral selves / to uncover and reimagine the roots and routes of our own becomings.
Referring to oneself as White is done out of self-preservation and a desperation to belong to an artificial reality, a biomythology of half-truths and empire-dreams chained to a pedestal left behind to erode in the darkwaters of the rising oceans.
from my Instagram @rosecolored_scholar
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bishopknight0517 · 3 months ago
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That Voice
That voice
Inside of my head
That voice
That talks to me
That voice
That screams at me when I screw up
That voice
That says I have to be perfect
That voice
That laughs while I’m in pain
That voice
That won’t ever go away
That voice
Is all I ever hear
That voice
Is only gone while I sleep
So let me sleep
For eternity
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immaturepeach · 3 months ago
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krutsthetic · 27 days ago
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I'm a wandering beetle and you're a shining distraction which takes me to the home of your heart.
- krutsthetic
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phinexa-rose · 9 months ago
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Promised flower
The sun was bright when I broke my promise. 
I promised I wouldn’t cry. I promised. And I kept that promise for as long as your life thread ran.
When the cloth of your life came to an end, when the string didn’t have to be broken because there was nothing left of it. I broke my promise. I broke it. 
I didn’t even make it that far from the door. I didn’t make it past the path end. I stood on the stone path, dandelions tucked into my pocket, hair a thrall to the wind; and I broke my promise. 
But never in front of you; never. Only when the door shut and the sun set. Only when the room was empty and the bed beside mine the same. Only when you couldn’t find me in the most hidden of corners in this world. Only then did I break my promise. 
I promised I wouldn’t cry. I’m sorry I broke that promise.
I promised I wouldn’t fall in love. I’m glad I broke that promise.
It was worth it. 
To hold your hand on your first day and your last. 
To be a part of your future your present and your past. 
To see you beautifully grow up so fast. 
To have you born and lain amongst soft grass. 
I’m glad.
I’m glad I broke my promise. 
I’m glad I loved.
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fruitfulodyssey · a month ago
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I've remained in solitude
Determined to cultivate thoughts
That permeate flesh & bare fruit.
You see this silence birthed life
Like beauty in the womb,
When I speak I pursue
Wisdom that's nectar
For the soul & a fresh pillow
For a weary head.
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the-hoziest · 2 months ago
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feb. 2022
informally titled 'sappho vol. III: ok i went off with this one'
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basickiley · 5 months ago
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i hope you know its okay
to not feel calm,
to feel the edging of a storm
brewing inside you continuously.
i know that you
are depicted with this strength
that has really been weighing you down
that has been shredding your mind
to mere atoms.
im so sorry
you have not felt comfortable enough
to start to heal in a world
that believes you were never broken.
-k.m.
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thejessleigh · a month ago
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Imprisonment
I long for rescue
I am always cold. Habits, not magic harm the most patient men Perhaps, one day God forbid do not think it What rescue could there be?
-------
erasure poem taken from Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke
this poem is about/inspired by/? the dnd 5e spell “Imprisonment”
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they will say i am a failure
they will say that i’m a failure and look me in my red-rimmed eyes with bruises the colour of insomnia beneath
and my hands that shake my legs that are never quite still the way my jaw clenches and relaxes like a heartbeat
and they will think of all the times i meant to do something and never did
the times i stopped mid-sentence and wondered what i was talking about
my stuttering words
and the way i take things too much to my heart
they will say i am a failure and i think they are right
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bcmaxwell · 5 months ago
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Up For Work
waking up
six thirty am.
six hours of sleep.
I can’t believe
how tired I am,
but the show must go on.
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trashpoetry-tm · 5 months ago
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I’m not
(An original poem by me)
Possibly triggering, an existential crisis and mental breakdown in writing
I’m not sad like how I used to be
I’m not as good at it as I used to be
I’m not as good at hiding the sadness as I used to be
Even mom is noticing
I’m not taking care of myself like I used to, brushing my teeth is oh so tiring, and eating seems less like a necessity and more like a chore
I’m not functioning how I’d like to, school was always hard when I got sad, but I’m not doing anything, there’s so much to do and so little time to do it, and I haven’t done any of it.
I’m not doing anything, there’s so much to do and so little time to do it. And I’m not doing any of it.
I’m not sure what I’m doing anymore.
I’m not sure what I’m doing here anymore.
I’m not sure what I’d like to be doing anymore.
I’m not sure why I’m here.
I’m not sure what my purpose is.
I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to wait for one.
Im not taking care of myself, but god is it aggravating when people try and take care of me.
Im not coping, I’m not helping myself, but the thought of going somewhere where people could help me, like the people who do help have suggested, scares me.
I’m confused and lost and scared and angry and sad and nauseous and tired and numb.
I’m not myself
I’m just, not
- Trash
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bishopknight0517 · 3 months ago
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Surviving
The storm rages on
The owner smiles
Even when the house is blown away
They smile at the sky
For the sun always shines
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floralbeast · a year ago
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hey! you're writings are breathtaking!
could i request a poetry on insecurities in a relationship please?
thank you <3
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Flashing back to days when you were with me.
The sleek waves of sunken emotions
drowning me in-
The heavy heart and the lunar's part,
I see the same
The fence of thorns, scars adorned.
Sun rose from West,
east lost it's whence.
The moments we carved,
broken and they fall apart.
Blurred memories,
but still it haunts.
The web of lies I spiked,
for you were dipped in your stained vibes.
I fell apart
Abrading and rusting the ground
The convincing upsurge of your barriers
And the flimsy act of bravery I showed
Ohh wasn't your words I ran for?
Perhaps the gazing on the moon was an eye on me.
Ohh every knock on my door
and my pleading for you to stop
The tranquility I found in you,
But pardon me
'Cause I burnt in ashes
For my every beat you felt wrong.
I meant to look forward,
but the eerie sounds of your insecurities
dragged us down.
Ohh the last autumn leaf,
I waited to fell
'cause it seemed the approaching spring
was too hard to get.
The days I thought it was usual
But the deeper I drowned,
it was hard to forget.
The hands I craved to be held
and my heart mourned to be felt.
It's the binding cuffs,
and the cage you locked me in.
Ohh dear it was all for you,
All of mine.
So finally a piece after so longgg... Thank you @ohlorde for requesting this. ❤
I have wrote something after so long and I'm not sure if this is of worth. Lemme know how is this piece? Please like and reblog if you like it.
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melancatholic · 6 months ago
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“cherries”
One sunny afternoon
On the pavements walked a little boy
Wind blowing on his hair
Wild curiosity in the air
He's never been in this neighborhood before
But his feet couldn't stop walking some more
When suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks
Eyes looking through fence cracks
Where bushes of cherries populated gardens
Red and plump and arden
So much red his mouth starts to water
Oh how sweet they would taste on his tongue after
It was almost like a dream
That his pants couldn't help but scream
The gates were wide open to his surprise
So he trespassed and spoiled his eyes
He picked on the cherries
A few bursting on his fingers
Sticky and wet like crushed berries
He bit his lip and ate one
Then two then four
His mind running wild on the score
Then ran away when he was done
He kept on walking
More low fences on the side
More cherries more temptation
More sweetness more intoxication
He took way too much than he needed
From unguarded fences
No one to tell him no
No one to tell him he's reckless
His mouth dripped red
With his sugar stained hands
He could still taste the sweetness
Lingering in the wetness
Eventually he ran out of cherries
And he strolled to find other unlocked doors
Desperation in his veins
For he wanted more of the inebriating daze
Then came one house with tall brick walls
No low fences
No open gates
Perhaps there's cherries in there
Maybe even more than he can estimate
But he couldn't quite tell
So he jumped high and climbed
Intrigued by obscurity
Urged by compulsivity
The wall was taller than he expected
Sweat broke through his forehead
And he thought it must be a deadend
Once he reached the top
His eyes widened and his jaw dropped
For it was nothing he could've imagined
A garden teeming with cherries 
Here and there
Rarely touched, rarely seen
As if no one even tried to dare
And whomever was the last
Was the reason the wall was cast
He could already imagine what they taste
And he wasn't going to let this go to waste
He let himself fall
And landed on the soil
Taking in the view
Breathing in the dew
This is something new
And for the first time it kicked in
He was witnessing beauty not everyone had luxury to
Butterflies and flowers
Bushes and clovers
This was all his until the owner comes over
It didn't take him long to pick
Snatching a big handful of cherries from their branches
Shoving them into his hungry mouth
He indulged and indulged to his greed
He almost forgot he wasn't supposed to be there and heed
No one caught him, no one saw
The only witnesses were the bees and their was honey raw
Even the shy butterflies fell in love with him in awe
The last person there left it a mess
So many flies, so many pests
They had to rebuild the garden with no rest
And maybe this boy would finally be different from the rest
It was heaven for a while
It almost drove him mad
How could something be so good?
The previous gardens all of a sudden never could
But nothing lasts forever
Not even thrill
The excitement in his eyes died off
He no longer got his fill
After he took and took somehow the cherries still didn't suffice
He got what he wanted but at what price?
He was still hungry even though he was full
Nothing in that garden was enough anymore
Not the honey, not the leaves
The bees begged him to stay when he decided to leave
Pulling his feet back when he climbed the wall again
However, there was nothing they can do to stop him then
And so the boy was back on his stride
In search for something not even he knew what
Whilst the bees and butterflies missed him
Behind those brick high walls
Waiting for him to return 
Even though deep inside they knew he wouldn’t
He left it a mess
Just like the person before him
They were wrong when they thought it would finally be him
And now they have to start from scratch again
Pick up the fallen branches
Grow back empty patches
Why do they always take?
And abandon when there’s nothing left?
Perhaps the walls aren’t high enough
Maybe the pricks should be more deadly
This way everyone would keep out their games
And stop taking cherries from my garden already.
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- chantal
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phinexa-rose · 3 months ago
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if you could let me die oh, would you my dear or is your heart to selfish to let me simply disappear 
would you grant me sweet sounding death or bring me to life with your searching hands would i cross the river death without you and refuse your pleading demands 
have i a heart that can refuse any of your yearning calls i have a heart that refuse the pain of the after fall 
let me die my dear i have nothing in life but you i have nothing in life and so i weep at night and my cries keep up you
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pattimouse · 5 months ago
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more poetry by me
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crimsondawnsdevotionals · a year ago
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Nightly Prayer - HEKATE
Hail Hekate, Torch-bearer, May You guide my soul with Your eternal light So that I may walk my path, Both day and night, May Your presence give me strength and calm, So that I may always look towards a new dawn.
Hail Hekate, my Mother, May Your warmth surround me in the cold And remind me that I am loved, Whether I am young or old, May Your wisdom always reach my ears And always ease away my fears.
Hail Hekate, Who Keeps Watch and Ward, May You protect my home from those who prey, Be it a spirit or person, Keep their evils away, No unwanted guest or intention may enter, For You are the Guardian of this home's center.
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