Poet pen pal??
Hello, fellow poets who want to do nothing but seep into the depths of their souls. Because maybe if you sit there long enough, you will finally understand yourself. Right?
Anyway, that's for another time... Does anyone want to possibly become pen pals?? Where we can email each other our poetry/ writings/ journals/ lists and whatnot? We can give each other feedback if asked. As if time has reversed back to the early 2000s when you get an accidental email from someone you never met, but you reply as if you did anyway. Oh, how beautiful the idea of love could be. Anyways!!! My email is
[email protected]!
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i want to write a very psychosexual poem but i feel a little bad about it hashtag cultural catholicism... tfw you have no problems watching yourself in a mirror while having intercourse but a hanging picture of the virgin mary makes you have Thoughts. like sorry mary and what would you think if you could see this (not in a chastising way but in a ...horny way). thoughts on mary's sexual agency basically. and it could make a diptych with another mary poem i've written 3 years ago. and i could write others to complement those as well.
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A poem
I don't know what to say lately. I say too much lately. My brain races and my heart loses. Or maybe it's the other way around. I can't do anything right. I can't even do anything. I don't want to go anywhere unless it's to him. I don't want to belong to anyone but him. All I want is him. All I need is him.
I decided to stop eating yesterday. What a loaded statement. I guess that's like saying I decided to start dying yesterday. I'm also wishing that he'd hit me lately.
I feel empty lately. I haven't done much in a few days but sleep and that's probably why. I'm slowly decaying and aiding the process. I want to make art. I want to die. I want to live. I want to love and be loved. My nails are bitten and my hands are tired. I am a succession of bad decisions. I'm fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional and I'm FINE. I'm fine I tell him I don't care you won't fuck me. I haven't stopped writing yet and I know that's a good thing. I don't care you won't love me. But I hear my bones tell me that I actually really fucking do.
Unrequited love is a sad story. What the fuck even is a sad story? It's my story. Sob story sad story. I'm miserable and ecstatic. I'm heartbroken and apathetic. I'm screaming and silent. I am a dichotomy at my core and he knows it.
I wish he'd fall in love with me. I wish he'd hurt me more. I wish he'd punch me and bruise me. And that's the truth. I talked to my therapist about it today and we came to the conclusion that if I had bruises people would ask. And I'd love it. Attention is what victims of neglect seek. In fucked up ways. Like losing so much weight people think you have cancer. That's what I want. I want to lose 50 pounds. I want to destroy myself. God I'm sick. God I'm sick. I don't want to get better. Half of me is better, the part of me that doesn't drink anymore. Half of me wishes she was dead.
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Poem Writing Prompt
Write a poem with the title "And I'll Kiss Your Scars."
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the kindness trap
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Hear me out: a villanelle about villains
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These wounds have existed throughout time.
I am merely their embodiment.
—t. Hall
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i'm absolutely smitten with the idea of a poetry series written in the forms of dating app profiles (dark side: redownloading dating apps in the name of research)
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New poetry, creative ideas with poetry, and poetry collection news
Dear Lovestar,
I have been sharing all my poetry to my poetry collection. Follow my collection so you can read and download many of my poems through this link:
http://www.mobileapp.app/to/duCowXa?ref=cl
How I Love
This poem speaks of loving with all aspects of me from the basic to the divine and how every aspect plays a role in the whole, which is the union.
Poetry collection news
Continue…
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The Victors-
Grian- a man of rebellion and leadership- the sole survivor of a season where he pledged loyalty to another
Scott- a man of survival and loyalty- the sole survivor of a season where bonds were meant to be broken by bloodlust
Pearl- a woman of independence and endurance- the sole survivor of a season where she was meant to rely on her “other half”
Martyn- a man of ambition and determination- the sole survivor of a season where death was ensured from the beginning
Scar- a man of open-hearted friendliness and charisma- the sole survivor of a season where secrets ostracized him from camaraderie
And Cleo- a person of steadiness and consistency- the sole survivor of a season of chaos and uncertainty
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Idea Vilariño, tr. by Jesse Lee Kercheval, from Poemas de amor / Love Poems; "The Witness"
[Text: "I don't ask you for anything / don't accept anything from you. / It's enough that you are / in the world / that you know I am / in the world"]
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Protective prompts
Perhaps i should phrase myself better. You. Wont. Lay. A. Single. Finger. On. Her.
Yeah, I killed him. I won't apologize for that.
He had it coming.
"He was asking for it." "For a beat-up?" "Yeah."
I don't care if you want me here or not. I'm staying.
You're in a hospital because of them and I'll put in a morgue everyone who is responsible for that.
He said what?!
"He had it coming." "you killed him." "Exactly."
He was asking for it.
You have my permission to kill him whenever you like, darlin'.
Are you falling in love with me, hon'?
You're playing a dangerous game, darlin'.
"My father wants to meet you." "I swear, one single bad word about you comes out od his mouth... I'll kill him."
You’ll stay by my side until I tell you so.
„You’d defy the gods, only for me?” „i would destroy the gods for you.”
You can change what you do but you cant change what you want.
If I cant have you no one should.
*someone’s bothering her* him: would you like to fuck off?
How many drinks would it take to make you mine?
Who. Did. This. To. You?
You don't want to make me jealous, honey.
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To dwell in the truth of pain, the flesh and bone of it, its utter solitude. To stare deeply into a starless night and know the stark distance to the heart of love.
-t.hall
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