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#spn poetry
purgaytorysupremacy · 6 months
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“Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway.”
Sade Andria Zabala, Coffee and Cigarettes
Dean edition
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gaytedlasso · 1 year
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If you are the sun, then I wanna be the moon
I wanna reflect the light that shines from you.
~
Happy November 5th !
original poem
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demongirlmeg · 2 months
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first month at stanford. doesn’t get any easier.
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sapphirecherry · 6 months
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- tum'ah | sam w.
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Abraham Takes His Dog Out Back
dean and jack - 14x20 / 1x22/ 10x23 original poem written for @spnpoetryrenaissance
transcript under cut:
Abraham Takes His Dog Out Back 
He gets down on his knees in front of me 
doe eyes wide, somehow still naive down
the barrel of the gun. 
Like a dog stood waiting at my door,
like the bird between its teeth,
like he’s brought me a gift 
and the gift is something dying. 
I’m holding the gun in my hands
still holding the gun in my hands
how animal is this grief that I will rip
myself to shreds over tasteless prey 
and call it hunting.
Why did no one take me out back
with a gun
before I could be the one doing the shooting.
Then it wouldn’t be suicide.
And put me down gently, it wouldn’t be murder.
God’s watching
but it’s the angel I care about seeing this.
Look away.
Close your eyes, 
look away.
And still my dog kneels, gazing up at me,
smiling,
and waiting for me to shoot.
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archangelsammy · 1 year
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sam and dean / spn 5.16 dark side of the moon / spn 2.21 all hell breaks loose part one / spn 10.23 my brother's keeper / spn 2.22 all hell breaks loose part two / spn 10.23 my brother's keeper / after abel, dante émile
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castielhoney · 1 month
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might fuck around and submit a literary analysis of character of Dean winchester for my LAD fair project
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castielafflicted · 6 months
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happy destiel day. be fucking sad.
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image text under the cut
Despair.
The ground is cold. I'm breathing, and the ground is cold. You're gone I'm breathing, and the ground is cold. You love me. I'm breathing and the ground is cold.
I love you. I love you, but I'm breathing without you. You left me. I love you, but I'm breathing without you. I hope it's over. I love you, but I'm breathing without you.
My first breath of air without you is like knives. My heart feels shredded from the cut of your words. I could sit here forever on this basement floor alone. I'm breathing. I love you. The ground is cold.
Your words were everything I didn't want to hear. I need your love like I need my own free will. My soul itself feels gone into the nothing with you. I'm breathing. I love you. The ground is cold.
You can't see my tears now that you're gone. There is nothing I won't do to get you back here. Come back, you can have everything of me. I'm breathing. I love you. The ground is cold
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purgaytorysupremacy · 7 months
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“Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway.”
Sade Andria Zabala, Coffee and Cigarettes
Cas edition
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gaytedlasso · 2 years
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I lost my faith.
a gilded angel
fading into a mortal being
melts under the weight of
this soul
too heavy to bear.
.
head lifted towards heaven
with eyes shut -
whether it be in prayer
or defiance
I could not say,
but they never lend their gaze
to those iron-clad pearly gates
.
halo fading into my skin -
scalding anointment accepted with grace
and mourning,
for this holy torment
remains a blessed assurance
that I once had purpose
in this hollow vessel
-e.g.
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demongirlmeg · 7 months
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Yeah, well, that part’s true.
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sapphirecherry · 7 months
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twenty-three
you are 23 when you first die.
you are 23 as you kneel in the rain and the mud and your brother grips you like he can’t won’t let you go.
but you are gone.
you are 23 and you are gone. you blood coats his hands, stains your jacket, fertilises the earth. can it do that? you are cursed and unclean and the unholy can not breathe new life.
you have left him. everyone. this wasn’t supposed to happen. you were supposed to get out. you did. but the yellow and red flames of your childhood they grabbed you and didn’t let go.
you are 23 when you die. but you are not dead.
[edit: reposted for better formatting]
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sailorsally · 10 months
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mrcowboydeanwinchester · 11 months
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Curtains
13x01. a widower dean poem
transcript under cut:
The curtains were yellow,
in the room where you died.
You were bound up in cloth
and I stood and I cried.
And they should’ve been blue then,
the curtains, I mean,
they should’ve been blue 
for the sadness of scene.
But they hung bright and bold,
why, they lit up the room!
The room where you lay
still and cold, entombed. 
I tried to write it like that:
me, stood in the dark
with you, the blue curtains,
and my shattered heart
but that wasn’t the truth.
For the sun shone nearby.
And the curtains were yellow,
when I said goodbye.
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hauntedpearl · 2 years
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Lael's (inspired by @skepticalfrog's fic)
like most people, my relationship with God and religion isn't all that... straightforward. like most people I'm always trying to unentangle my own faith in the universe and people and everything from what I was taught to believe in growing up. i don't know if there's a God. i don't know that it matters. but i do feel like the world would be a better place if we believed that God was an old Guatemalan man who runs a diner in Kansas. that He is in the impressions of kindness in this world, wherever they may be. isn't that kind of the whole point of it, anyway?
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