#recovery poetry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

just-looking-for-stars · 1 year

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a bit of advice:

order dessert before dinner whenever you can. get the really rich option, the oreo cheesecake or chocolate mouse. lick warm, melty whipped cream off the backside of your spoon, scoop the chocolate clean off the plate, sit back and sigh and lament that you might have not saved enough room for dinner, without an ounce of regret, and then go on to finish the bread and oil and your entire bowl of pasta too. look utterly confused anytime anyone brings up their new diet, or how they need to work out before dinner, or that they are just soooo bloated, or how they just need to lose that last 5 pounds. act as if it is the most absurd thing you have heard that someone would even consider cutting calories or passing on warm cookies fresh out of the oven or ignoring the pleasure of eating a whole bag of pink starbursts in one sitting. picture yourself at age three, often. think about a time before dance classes or diet culture or tiny runway models or tumblr of 2012 got it’s hands on you. remember the way your belly rolls looked extra cute in your purple butterfly swimsuit with watermelon juice covering your sticky salt water fingers, braids wildly unkempt from summertime play (and then remember that nothing has changed with age except that now you have a blue butterfly swimsuit instead of purple). and when you can’t show up for yourself to feed this adult body that has to face the world, feed yourself at three years old, giggly and chubby, sweet talking in hopes for a second popsicle. let them know that they can have three popsicles if they want, and that tonight, we will even order our dessert before dinner.

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poetryorchard · 1 year

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good timezone, sprites! @nashira here and being a lil candid with the confessionals cam. i wanted to share a little bit about what went into deciding to do this workshop in the theme that i did, because i could have definitely went with purely ACNH route that would just be celebrating the game and not touching on the pandemic at all.

however, being that animal crossing is strongly linked to the onset of the pandemic (to me and i'm sure you and many others)...there's no way i can talk about ACNH without talking about the fear, the isolation, the heartbreak that i experienced in march 2020.

and i have yet to unpack those really difficult and heavy feelings, but in spirit of moving forward and growing as a person, it's time for me to consider all that i/we collectively went through, put our grief away in a box, tie it with a bow and rest it in a safe place.

to this day, 2020 still has me in knots. I can't keep living like this, I need to work through these feelings so that I can really experience 2023, still masked but with a full heart. there's no way we can continue fighting the ongoing pandemic otherwise!

if you want a safe space to write about these feelings, please join us on sunday for this workshop.

sign up here! tickets are sliding scale £0 - £15

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slowfalter · 8 months

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I’ll win - after Yuri on Ice

Sometimes I feel too small

and the sky feels too big,

like there’s too much space around my body

and I don’t want or need this much air,

this much sound,

this much life.

When I try to tell you what I mean,

you ask me what I need

but you don’t have to say anything.

Just have more faith than I do,

that I’ll get up today.

That I’ll fight the proverbial demons,

in my entirely non-metaphorical closet

and against all odds,

put clothes on my body.

That I’ll step outside

and look into myself

as I walk past the windows of the buildings

and I won’t run

from the person that I’m scared to be.

That I will buy groceries,

if it takes me all day

and that I’ll let comfort in

when my internal monologue

won’t stop screaming at me

and all I need is just for you to

have more faith than I do

that I’ll win

and I’ll keep winning every day.

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amalgamationink · 10 days

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NAPOWRIMO24 #14: THE AUTHOR RESPONDS TO HIS DECADE-OLD SUICIDE NOTE

#prompt: write a poem of at least 10 lines using anaphora (each line begins with the same word/phrase).#this is one of my fave things to do in poetry so i was pretty psyched to see today's prompt.#the bones of this poem already existed for a response to an assignment earlier this year but they needed intense reworks #and there was no anaphora to it before except some repetition of the phrase ''because''. this is a much different poem than it was 2 mos ag #it's a lot more solid in its sense of self now. i like it much more than i did this morning.#(also just to cover my bases: this was loosely inspired by ocean vuong's poem reasons for staying. i think it exists on its own merit-#enough that i probably don't *have* to say that. but just in case someone reads it and thinks ''hey wait a minute'' lmao)#napowrimo 2024 #napowrimo #spilled ink #writeblr #poems on tumblr #poetry on tumblr #poets on tumblr #queer poets on tumblr #queer poetry #poetry #recovery poetry #tw suicide ment #tw suicide #tw suicide attempt #damien.txt #img desc in alt text

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laikacore · 1 year

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i reach back and i say,

“you are ten. it has been the hardest thing you’ve lived through so far, or the hardest that you can hold in your mind, and

it will only get harder

but it will also get better.

you see me here,

i’m nearly twice your age

and i’m still learning to be you.

you cry when you need to cry, you laugh when you feel to laugh

you run and you play and you sing.

here i’m undoing the damage

that will tear you apart for the next

several

years

but

now i’m learning

to cry when i need to cry and laugh when i feel to laugh

and eat and sleep and play what and when i want

and love and be loved

and not bend over backwards

for someone who doesn’t deserve it.

and like you i need to learn these lessons over and over again

and like you when i mess up i’m just looking to be loved

and like you i’m never going to stop

and for you i’m going to make sure

everything will work out just fine.”

for myself at ten by laika wallace

#letter to my younger self #letter to myself #letter to my child self #recovery poetry #hopeful poetry

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asphodelpoetry · 24 days

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it won’t matter how far i get from that house,

that bathroom,

blade,

i am a hurt child seeking comfort in blood

all i will ever need is the tools:

grave built by my own trembling hands

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nashira · 2 years

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a poem about logging off

#poetry #poets on tumblr #spilled ink #poetry community #writeblr #poetblr #poetry tumblr #poets of color #lgbt poetry #burnout #recovery #recovery poetry

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quilligan · 1 year

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"The more often you fall, the stronger you become!"

#recovery poetry #recovery #recovery is worth it #self acceptance #healing

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tyler207 · 2 years

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A poem for my dear friend.

#poetry #addiction #recovery #recovery poetry

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throughtheeyesofmeblog · 28 days

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veryluckyclovers · 3 months

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having a moment. That is lasting a long time

💧🍯☕️

#my art #doodle #drawing #art #bear #procreate #writing #poem #poetry #trauma recovery #recovery

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poetryorchard · 4 months

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Join Blossom in our next creative writing workshop inspired by new beginnings!

🍊 As always, even if you can’t make it to the video session, sign up anyway because you will still receive all the workshop materials including unique writing prompts. Our past workshop documents are available on our Patreon! Support us there for one free ticket a month to a workshop of your choice!

🪩 Sign up here! Tickets £1+

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amalgamationink · 1 year

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I knew it when your house bloomed. When the front step shifted from a held breath to a threshold.

The stasis had settled in, years-deep, sprawling through each room until the air went brittle, until (oops) it gnawed upon the bones.

And yet from day to day I watched you push it back. The rooms began to breathe again.

In the low light, you went shadow-kissed, the hollows of you retreating— but when I squinted to see, you rolled up your sleeves to replace the bulbs. The lightning in my chest could’ve lit the room itself.

I could cry for all your quiet concessions: a softer chair, a proper bed, the kitchen cracking an eye when I stirred a coffee at the counter.

On the last visit (before they stopped being visits, before the admitted defeat and the mutual resignation to the rest of our lives together) I slipped you a handful of buttercups that had begun to cautiously regain footing in the yard.

What’s this? you said, and you hadn’t quite resurrected the house enough for vases, so I tucked one into your lapel as you pushed another behind my ear.

A housewarming present, and I kissed your teeth as the home you’d built with me in mind heaved a contented sigh. Someone finally lives here.