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soulfulreverie · 9 months

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bittersweet is the place where we rest our sore feet after dancing all night with a bottle of serotonin, oxytocin, endorphins, dopamine risky and raw on your cousin’s kitchen floor, a place where your hands find its way to the arch of my back, with you whispering, “I can’t breathe”, only for me to catch you smiling. bittersweet is how you tell me you admire everything about me in between inhales and exhales, sounding like a drunk person eager to have the next sip. bittersweet is when that bottle is empty and all that’s left of the bottles are wines and whiskeys and more nightcaps to sip out, what we both do not want to take away– like the night and the memories combined and the love that grew bitter and sour like the colors of wine. bittersweet is when you love me and i love you and we still couldn’t be together.

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undernightskies · 1 year

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You are cleansed of me, suffused skin steeped in alcohol.

I bow to your knowledge of dead birds and the way their skulls hold the secrets we whisper in their sleep.

The ways your eyes pierce like smooth blades across new skin.

I am all around you like new snow, and across me, you inscribe yourself as stonesmiths do to tombstones.

We are the never were; we are beautiful in the absence of ourselves.

#spilled ink #poem #seducedbyink #poetry

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theprocast · 11 months

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Time danced in relentless motion,

and I watched as chance after chance after chance

slipped through my fingers.

Moments that could have been etched

In our shared history

were instead lost in the abyss of silence.

The words I have been wanting to say

but never have to courage to

remained locked within my soul,

stifling under the weight

of my own indecision and lack of faith.

Faith for what we could have been,

where our love could have gotten us,

and why we always find out our way

to each other's doorstep.

The unspoken truths echoed

in the depths of my being,

a constant reminder of the opportunities—

of you, of us that slipped away.

Regret paints its melancholic strokes

on the canvas of my heart,

for the road not taken will forever haunt me.

Yet, amidst the sorrow,

a flicker of hope remains,

whispering that perhaps, one day,

the universe will conspire

to reunite our paths and grant us

a second chance at the love we left behind.

#casterlove #spilled ink #procastiwriters #spilled thoughts #soulfulreverie #illhueminati #inkstay #seducedbyink #nosebleedclub #deadpoetsnet #writerscreed #poetryportal #24hoursopen #queerpoetrynet #poets of tumblr #floodjournal #poets society

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renegadegirl13 · 2 years

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Malnourished Leavings

Earthly shell; housed horror-dressed fancy clothes.

Hands folded; idle and still-workshop now closed.

Eyes tightly stitched; never was truth be seen.

Funeral pyre, crackles with lonely guests keen.

Few gather to praise him in all Sunday's best;

Mourners who know only falsehoods digressed.

They trumpet his goodness, in a wayward tune;

Unaware blackened soul smoulders; flames come soon.

Legacy lives-choking weeds amongst fragile flowers.

Lies bloom truth-unsuspecting garden-come showers

Sordid soil grows empty promises-fruit rotted yields.

Sustenance doesn't thrive here; within barren fields.

All those who thought they knew his true self,

Placed ornate urn with honor-high shelf.

His plentiful trough they fed-yet bellies growl- Why?

They hungered for honesty, but supped only lies.

Copyright Delia Thorne/TB May 24/22

#poetselixir #meanwhilepoetry #seducedbyink #poetryriot #savage-words #writtenconsiderations #uschi the listener

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cateyesandlippy · 5 years

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Pristine

This week was heavy

It sat on my chest like an iceberg

Slowly melting into hot, sticky grief

I think loving me must be messy

Because as much as I try to

Pull it together

Wipe my face

Wash my hair

Put pants on

It always comes seeping out

It oozes from my pores

And I can’t help but think

Of your pristine white shirt

View On WordPress

#creativewriting #life #love #love poems #past #personal #poems #poetry #pristine #seducedbyink #spilled ink #spilledink #thoughts #words #writing

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small-town--r · 6 years

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Stargaze to Eternity

To gaze stars

endlessly

thoughts cease

at the site of

the galaxy

entranced by

astronomy

frees me

from anxiety

the moon

she sits so

beautifully

for all to see

never giving

up on me

consistent and

reliable, hanging

in the sky

with authority

Seduced into

a trance by the

stars and moon,

in the galaxy

I could forever

Stargaze to Eternity

R.A.

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lucimoody-blog · 6 years

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haunted.

I need loud music

So no stray thoughts

Can haunt my hollow skull

Without permission.

I need fast cars

So I can spit in the face

Of a death so close

That I feel alive again.

I need long nights

So I can succeed

In all the hobbies I love

But ignore during daylight.

I need love

So that I can feel

Something other than

All my failures.

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ivc-spilledink · 6 years

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I knew I have drifted too far when poetry tried pulling me back and I didn't move an inch.

Far, Irally Cariaso

#spilled ink #spilledink #poetry #prose #poem #writing #poets of tumblr #writers on tumblr #new poets society #seducedbyink

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endlesslyheadedsomewhere · 7 years

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Look to the ocean, for she is the key. Fierce, with waves gone wild. That’s all she’ll ever be, with all the wrecks that she’s compiled.

Yet, within is something alluring, a piece inside is stirring.

If you look you can see while she pushes and pulls, longing to be free, the rush of emotions breaking her own rule.

She is alone in the world she created, behind the wall of waves she instated.

I’ll admit, she’s a bit like me. And this was never how I meant it to be.

-M.

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dentedheart · 7 years

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It flickers then die all at once drifted into the dumpness flown away by love that’s feary. Earsplitting agony of a heart ramifies the stars which collide visible cracks of hues and tones signifies different pricks I got from loving you. Over the moonlit madness filled with dazzling drops of tears creating shadows controlled by exhaustion limiting myself to catch you even more. It was dawn when I started looking out for you where both sides fold within hues eyes defined the glowing youthful but heart identifies the sorrow you never forget to enclose.

but you’ll always be my rocketeer // dentedheart

#spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled words #poetry #free verse #rejectscorner #seducedbyink #poem #words #writing

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soulfulreverie · 8 months

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1. Have you looked at the back of the polaroid pictures they took of us? I scribbled some sweet remarks in there. I'm guessing you don't even check them anymore. What on earth was I thinking? [delete] 2. Look, I miss you. I hope it is as simple as that. [delete] 3. It hurts me that you passed up on the possibility of me having to come home to you after a terrible day at work, or the chance to have your arms around me and to wake up with you next to me. It's a shame you took that away from us. It's a shame you never even tried. [delete] 4. The books I read lately makes me feel like I should cut you off. We've only had this toxic, never ending cycle of you and me and our stupidity and having rebound relationships but we can't even talk about what we feel to each other. [delete] 5. Just...can you just let me know if you're at least happy? [delete] 6. Can I call you? I just wanted to hear your voice. [delete] 7. I never planned on loving you this much. [delete] 8. I'm not drunk. I only had a couple glasses of wine. No, scratch that. I had a whole bottle. Where are you? Call me. [delete] 9. Did her kisses felt divine like mine? [delete]

s.a., Texts I (almost) Sent You pt. 5

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undernightskies · 1 year

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There is an excision that has to happen, the procedure of walking backwards with your eyes closed. The house has handprints all over it - it’s a crime scene after all. Here you hammered a nail, there you neglected to make the floorboards fit. I planted almost all the trees that grew despite your disinterest in their thriving. I threw out all the bed linen and opened my windows wide. This is a house where the sky can enter if it chooses. So many hearts squeezed dry, but we are filling up regardless. It’s just a matter of knowing how to let the river in.

#spilled ink #poetry #seducedbyink #poem

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theprocast · 8 months

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is she lucky because you chose her or is she unlucky for not knowing what happened between us?

s.a., are you able to sleep at night?

#soulfulreverie #procastiwriters #spilled thoughts #caffeine thoughts #24hoursopen #twcpoetry #poeticstories #abstractcommunity #seducedbyink #spilled ink #love #casterlove #inkstay #illustrans #spilled words #writerscreed #poets on tumblr #relationships #writeblr

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renegadegirl13 · 3 years

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People always say "you only live once." I don't think that's correct. You get to live everyday that you awaken. You only die once.

Delia Thorne/TB March 21/21

#poetselixir #poetryriot #writtenconsiderations #seducedbyink #uschi the listener #meanwhilepoetry

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triedmybestyouknow · 7 years

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Blinking Interstice

When the air runs out, my lungs will just have to get more confident. Almost anything is possible with confidence. Thirty minutes of pep talking and you’re breathing concrete, the car runs on milk. Fresh November is a lot less gregarious than fresh July or May. I have this suspicion that god sometimes tries to wipe us away, but he only makes the canvas uglier. This phenomenon is better known as winter.

Half of living is pretense, stroking the beard of an empty head. The earth rotates around the sun once and, suddenly, my mother is mad that I’ve double booked my birthday. Introduce a black hole into the local galactic picture and she’s forgotten my birthday, forgotten my age, forgotten her own name, but she knows there’s a big black dot in the firmament and that everyone’s fucked. The great tennis shoe stomps the anthill New Year. Of course there’s meaning. Twirl your noisemaker harder.

Doing this all backwards would be better. My fingers un-type this poem; my mind un-thinks all of its thoughts. Mom gets happy and dad becomes a swell guy. Being born a second time does sound preferable to perishing a first time, which explains the proliferation of religious paraphernalia in my grandmother’s house. I have confidence that last line will be funny in the exact same way that I have confidence that I will one day be able to grow a mustache: that is, even if nobody likes it.

We’re supposed to be happy, but living this feels more like crying at the circus. This is supposed to be a poem, but writing it feels more like throwing a rock. You can learn and learn about the world, but it will still eventually kill you, no matter how wide your knowledge. Drown in the ocean or drown in your bathtub. Juliet singing a song as she waits for the poison to metabolize. When the confidence runs out, it won’t be so bad to not breathe at all.

-j. altamore

#poetry #poets on tumblr #poetryriot #spilled ink #seducedbyink #mine

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small-town--r · 6 years

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Depression

This day, that day

good days, bad days.

Tomorrow will I feel this way?

Struggling with this

day by day.

Days begin to run together.

Hide my depression from

the world I'd rather.

Hopefully no one notices,

wash anxiety an the frown

off my face.

On a daily bases

trying to be better.

Dealing with this isn't

as difficult, as it used to be.

My meds help with that you see.

Its just the bad days

that get to me.

Fighting a never ending battle.

What will it be today

that takes over me?

The depression,

the stress,

the hurt,

the worry,

the anxiety?

Whichever it may be,

one things for sure,

I will not let this get

the best of me.

For my son, he sees

and thinks the world of me.

Hide these struggles

from him, an be as happy

as I can be.

I gave him life and

life he has given back to me.

My son is what I live for,

him, I admire and adore.

Tomorrow may be a better day than today.

Sometimes this is how

my life can be, living with

Depression

R.A.

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