#therapy poem

[eyesofhellabore]

Lucky little favorite 

(tw: verbal abuse mentioned)

Daddy held the key to me

The one that let me speak

The key that could let me shout

And free me from the deep

But that key is shrouded in the alcohol

He nails me to the edge 

And makes me feel so small

Daddy said that I was lucky

Mama didn’t like hitting

Used your mouth like kerosene

And then the words would do the spittin’

Light me up

Hit me up

Light me up again

Didn’t need to lay a hand

His words could thunder in

Like a hand pulling insides out

Altering your lungs

Rewiring your brain

So you can’t fathom love

Daddy taught me when you’re cryin’

You better shut up

Told me that winning’s more important

Than happiness and love

Bought me things

To make me  quiet

Treat me like a dog

And call me like one too

My name was bitch and cunt

When he’s drunk

I’m his all-time fav

When he wants to bash my soul

And nail me to the grave

#alcoholic parent #alcoholic dad #alcoholic #alcoholic poem #emotional #loss #emotional abuse #teenagehood #therapy #therapy poem #sad poem #greif poem #toxic parents #mental abuse #substance abuse #childhood trauma #mental illness #anxienty #silence #complex ptsd #ptsd #ptsd art #ptsd poem

[batterbees]

#i dont need therapy i need to eat this poem #end poem #minecraft

[transmasccofee]

the subway rats poem is teruhashi coded

#saiki k #saiki k fanart #art tag #teruhashi kokomi #you guys thought i was joking But I WASNT. I WAS SERIOUS. #“i’m not the type to have friends” “i’ve received more compliments on my appearance than greetings” ok girl #go to therapy #anyway the poem reminded me of someone rejecting the companionship of people they view as below them #even if secretly they want it #because they feel too far off #which is what teruhashi does especially initially #rejecting friendship because she feels like she’s only valued as an object of desire #and is better than all these average people trying to befriend her #This poem also applies to saiki for that exact reason

[fuckingwhateverdude]

THERAPY SESSION #1

#ugh #the girls who get it get it #my writing #my writing tag #poetry #original poem #mental illness #vent writing #therapy #therapy session #bipolar disorder #spilled ink #poetryblr

[rosebud-poet]

[Black text on a white background that reads:

my gender is whatever makes me easiest to kill,

my gender is breeding stock, kill all men, can’t you just stay unobtrusive and neutral, the question cut apart in debate chambers, my ragged flesh and bones picked for statistics and arguments by vultures in suits who go home to too-young wives, breathing out my same old screams to useless onlookers sitting in rows, you’re disgusted by my blood on the floor but unwilling to shoot down what’s killing me slowly, what are the magic words i need to say to get you to care that i’m dying, 

my gender is polite young woman in a pantsuit long long dead, forward-thinking and modern, isn’t it funny that she lived as a man, she wanted better opportunities, we dug up the body and passed it around the archives and if you look here you’ll see the place where they cut out the most important parts, so sad to see such irreversible damage, so sad she never had children, so sad she was mutilated, but she was such a trailblazer, the first woman to put a bullet in a state senator’s head,

my gender is a bullet in a state senator’s head, shooting down vultures before they break my sibling’s skin, crippled tranny faggot (triple threat) with a score to settle, with a gash down the center of its chest spitting fire through pharmacy phone lines, never fucked someone who wasn’t an enemy of the state, never was your little girl, sticking around till the bitter end and triple dog dare you to come bash me yourself you bloody-beaked coward, come watch me be the monster you all say i am,

my gender is whatever makes me hardest to kill.]

#poetry that i can't post on instagram without mark zuckerberg himself tapping on my window to go WHOA HEY BUDDY #anyway welcome to my blog therapy is not enough i need to burn down the utah state house #poetry #trans poetry #poetblr #disabled poet #disabled poetry #trans poet #trans poets on tumblr #trans rage #stop trans genocide #trans poem #transmasc poet #vent poem #vent poetry

[letgoofthatego]

i want to go home

#dealing with grief #literature #lost of loved one #pink #poem #poetry #reading #spilled thoughts #typography #aesthetic #mental health #therapy #theraputic #spilled words #words #writing #venting #cute #hopecore #sad thoughts #thinking #online diary #quotes #vintage poem #grief poetry #breakup #depersonalization #lana del rey #sorrow #lover girl

[dontsearchformyaccount]

Riddles Poem

Pov: Mattheo wrote a secret love letter to Y/n

In fields of gold, where sunlight gleams,

Two hearts entwined, like endless streams.

With every breath, their love does bloom,

A timeless dance, in nature's room.

Through whispered words and tender touch,

Their souls unite, they need not much.

For in each other, they find their light,

Guiding them through the darkest night.

In laughter's echo and gentle sighs,

They see the world through each other's eyes.

Their love, a melody, sweet and true,

A symphony played for just them two.

Through trials faced and storms endured,

Their bond remains foreverured.

For love, the strongest force of all,

Will lift them up, should either fall.

So here's to love, in all its grace,

A treasure found in life's embrace.

May it fill your days with endless bliss,

A timeless love, sealed with a kiss.

#matheo riddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo x reader #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin girls #slytherin boys #slytherin #hufflepuff #hufflefluff #hufflepuff x slytherin #cute #happy poem #chatgpt #i need therapy #i need sleep #i am so tired #im bored #i love him #unconditional love #i love you #lovers #love #love quotes #letters

[poemsonmars]

my new therapist tells me

that we need to do a

depression assessment.

during it, she asks me

if i believe i am being punished.

i ask her, "punished by who?"

and she shrugs at me.

i tell her, "i would have to

believe in a god of some sort

to believe that someone

could be punishing me."

she scribbles something down,

looks away from her paper,

tries to make eye contact,

asks me, "hypothetically,

if there were a god, would you

believe you're being punished?"

and it takes what feels like

an eternity of silence

for me to answer her.

i swallow the lump in my throat.

i settle my stomach

with the palm of my hand.

i do not meet my therapist's eyes.

i tell her, "there is a reason

i don't believe in god anymore."

-mars

#8/23/23 #the other ones #mars.poetry #my poetry #lgbt poetry #original poetry #sad poetry #original poem #poets on tumblr #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #poetry about religion #button poetry #poetscommunity #prose poetry #my poetry always gets religion-heavy whenever i start going back to therapy . fun realization. anyway!

[iamnotatherapist]

Things I learned in therapy today:

Giving your partner the silent treatment during a fight is a form of emotional abuse. They are not mature enough to handle their emotions correctly, therefore not ready for a stable relationship.

#therapy #the bitter truth #breakup #heartbreak #heartbreak quotes #sad poem #love quotes #relationship goals #relationship advice #depressing poem #life quotes #self healing #poetry #relationship quotes #poemsaboutlove #self love #twinflame #trauma #emotional abuse

[slowfalter]

I tried to write a love letter to my body

For therapeutic purposes

But I wasn’t ready

I cannot see the beauty

In all the things you do for me

I would be lying if I said

Your thighs don’t kind of scare me

But I don’t have hate for you

More just unfair expectations

I wish I could feel differently

Dear body,

I’m afraid I still don’t love you

But truly, I am sorry.

#spilled ink #original poem #poetry #poeticstories #poem #original poetry #poetry tumblr #smittenbypoetry #twcpoetry #original poets on tumblr #poems on tumblr #writeblr #writeblrcafe #writblr #ed recovery #eating disoder recovery #body dysmorphia #bpd #therapy #body acceptance #i’m so tired #writerscreed #wc writerscreed

[internalearthquake]

my ghosts within

In the midst of what seems mundane lies a hidden world

Ghosts surround me, accompanying my every step

The lost, the unmet, the real, the imagined

These translucent entities haunt and console me

Wispy figments shift in and out of awareness 

Subdued whispers, their presence felt but never seen 

What may seem ordinary masks profound challenges

I push aside my ghosts who yearn to be acknowledged

Fragile mind oscillates betwixt clarity and confusion

A perpetual struggle to live in the present 

The universe is littered with daily reminders

of what once was… 

of what could have been…

of what I have lost…

of what was never mine…

of what will never be…

Every hushed whisper, every reverberating echo

My ghosts represent these fragments of my narrative

An incomplete history of distortions and illusions

Leaves me feeling incomplete

So, who am I?

What may often be overlooked carries significance to me

Unanswered questions ignite chaos within my mind

I navigate an unsolvable labyrinth of mystery

External investigations cannot unveil these buried truths

Healing lies in reconciling with my ghosts within

Dialogue with them holds the key to my liberation,

Clearing away the misty fog that clouds my perception

By forgiving the past and accepting the unknown,

I can release my ghosts from my internal world

Empowered, I can forge my own narrative,

Finally discovering who I am

#poetry #poem #writing #poems #thoughts #self discovery #identity #who am i #life lessons #words of wisdom #writerscreed #writingthestorm #poeticstories #smittenbypoetry #poets #original poetry #original writing #words to live by #finding yourself #prose #poetic #self love #deep thoughts #internalearthquake #therapy #acceptance #forgiveness #love #spilled poetry #spilled words

[secretmellowblog]

When I say "Victor Hugo's depiction of Jean Valjean's grief over losing Cosette is a reflection of Hugo's own grief at the death of his daughter" I'm not just theorizing-- some lines from Les Mis are basically just ripped word-for-word from Hugo's poems about the death of his daughter. Here are a few of them. Leopoldine drowned horribly with her husband only a few months after they were married; she was only nineteen. Jean Valjean's paralyzing fear of Cosette's marriage, his misguided useless rage at her husband, and his violent grief over losing her and never being able to see her again, is heavily influenced by Hugo's own grief. I have trouble finding good English translations of some of Hugo’s Leopoldine poems online, and would appreciate better links to English translations if anyone has them. But In A Villequier, one of Hugo's poems addressing God with furious grief over the death of Leopoldine, he writes:

Consider again how I have, since dawn, Worked, fought, thought, walked, struggled, Explaining Nature to Man who knew nothing of it, Lighting everything with your clarity; That, facing hate and anger, I have done my task here below, That I could not expect this wage, That I could not Foresee that you too, on my yielding head, Would let fall heavily your triumphant arm, And that you who saw how little joy I have, Would take my child away so quickly!

Which is almost word for word just Jean Valjean's:

I have left my blood on every stone, on every bramble, on every mile-post, along every wall, I have been gentle, though others have been hard to me, and kind, although others have been malicious, I have become an honest man once more, in spite of everything, I have repented of the evil that I have done and have forgiven the evil that has been done to me, and at the moment when I receive my recompense, at the moment when it is all over, at the moment when I am just touching the goal, at the moment when I have what I desire, it is well, it is good, I have paid, I have earned it, all this is to take flight, all this will vanish, and I shall lose Cosette, and I shall lose my life, my joy, my soul....

And this from the same poem:

I keep seeing that moment in my life when I saw her open her wings and fly off! I will see that instant until I die, the instant, no tears needed! where I cried: the child I had a minute ago— What? I don’t have her any more?

Is a similar sentiment to this angelic description of Cosette “taking flight” away from Jean Valjean:

Cosette, as she took her flight, winged and transfigured, left behind her on the earth her hideous and empty chrysalis, Jean Valjean.

And the moment when Jean Valjean realizes she’s in love with Marius, and has been “lost” to him without him realizing it:

The unprecedented and heart-rending thing about it was that he had fallen without perceiving it. All the light of his life had departed, while he still fancied that he beheld the sun.

This from the poem Demain dès l'aube, where Victor Hugo describes visiting Leopoldine's grave:

I will walk with my eyes fixed on my thoughts, Without seeing anything outside, without hearing any noise, Alone, unknown, back bent, hands crossed, Sad, and the day for me will be like night.

And Jean Valjean walking to Cosette's house, but never able to enter or speak to her:

There [Jean Valjean] walked at a slow pace, with his head strained forward, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, his eye immovably fixed on a point which seemed to be a star to him

This bit where Hugo talks about his faith weakening/cursing God in vain after Leopoldine’s death:

Consider how one doubts, O God! when one suffers, how the eye that weeps too much is blinded, how a being plunged by grief into the blackest pit, seeing you no more, cannot contemplate you.

Is similar to Jean Valjean’s spirtual self weakening and his consience “taking flight” at the idea of losing Cosette:

Any one who had beheld his spiritual self would have been obliged to concede that it weakened at that moment. (...) Grief, when it attains this shape, is a headlong flight of all the forces of the conscience. These are fatal crises. Few among us emerge from them still like ourselves and firm in duty.

Victor Hugo agonizing over his dreams of growing old with his daughter in A Villequier:

You make loneliness return always around all his footsteps.(...) As soon as he owns something, fate takes it away. Nothing is given to him, in his speedy days, for him to make a home and say: Here is my house, my field and my loved ones!

Jean Valjean:

“As one family! No. I belong to no family. I do not belong to yours. I do not belong to any family of men. In houses where people are among themselves, I am superfluous. There are families, but there is nothing of the sort for me. I am an unlucky wretch; I am left outside.

Victor Hugo's poetry in A Villequier again:

in the midst of cares, hardships, miseries, and of the shadow our fate casts over us, how a child appears, a dear sacred head, a small joyful creature, so beautiful one thinks a door to heaven has opened when it arrives; when for sixteen years one has watched this other self grow in loveable grace and sweet reason, when one has realized that this child one loves makes daylight in our soul and in our home,

Jean Valjean:

this man, who had passed through all manner of distresses, who was still all bleeding from the bruises of fate, (...) merely asked of Providence, of man, of the law, of society, of nature, of the world, one thing, that Cosette might love him! That Cosette might continue to love him! That God would not prevent the heart of the child from coming to him, and from remaining with him! Beloved by Cosette, he felt that he was healed, rested, appeased, loaded with benefits, recompensed, crowned. Beloved by Cosette, it was well with him! He asked nothing more! Had any one said to him: “Do you want anything better?” he would have answered: “No.” God might have said to him: “Do you desire heaven?” and he would have replied: “I should lose by it.”

Victor Hugo begging God to talk to his daughter again:

Let me lean over this cold stone and say to my child: Do you feel that I am here? Let me speak to her, bent over her remains, in the evening when all is still, as if, reopening her celestial eyes in her night, this angel could hear me!

Jean Valjean thanking God for letting him speak to Cosette one more time:

The good God says: “‘You fancy that you are about to be abandoned, stupid! No. No, things will not go so. Come, there is a good man yonder who is in need of an angel.’

I think the ending of Les Mis never made complete sense to me until I realized that Jean Valjean isn't grieving like a parent who has watched their child grow up; he is grieving like a parent who has just watched their child die.

#lm 5.9.1 #les mis #les mis letters #i was originally going to make a joke like #men will literally spend 30 years writing les miserables instead of going to therapy #but also reading Hugo's Leopoldine poems even when the translations might be imperfect is just. agh. :_; #and also has radically shifted my entire perspective on the novel and Jean Valjean

[fuckingwhateverdude]

@nosebleedclub / feb. #9

#compromised and finished an old draft #sigh #therapy is hard #my writing #my writing tag #poetry #original poem #nosebleedclub #nosebleed club #house of atreus #mothers and daughters #fathers and daughters #generational trauma #familial trauma #spilled ink #mental illness #vent writing #poetryblr #prompts

[pillofmoonlight]

it's weird how when a child screams they don't feel loved at home and don't feel safe around their family, the first thing that a parent might do is list the number of things they have done for their child instead of asking themselves what made their child feel that way. parents aren't supposed to be strict and feared. when a child walks into this world, they are naive and parents are supposed to be the home and safe space the child looks for when they need help or when things get messed up instead of going "my parents will kill me for this". by engraving your fear into your child's mind, you are just making sure that they to lie to you. i don't know what kind of cruelty we are forcing onto generations by making them fear their own parents. how would they learn love when they never knew what it is? and in a world so cruel and unkind, love is the most important thing we need. not fear.

Parents scare the hell out of their children and then have the audacity to ask "why you put your friends on such a pedestal". well maybe because they taught me love and maybe you should learn how to parent. you can begin from going to therapy and getting your traumas and misconceptions resolved.

#writing #creative writing #dark academia #female writers #poems and poetry #women writers #writings #family trauma #parents #parenting #therapy #writers blog #writers and poets #writers on tumblr #excerpt from a book i'll never write #young writer #young writers #writersofig #writeblr

[haleyincarnate]

Quote by Caitlin Conlon

#caitlin conlon #cgcpoems #writing #quote #poetry #poem #future #relationship #loss #heartbreak #break up #hope #emotion #ache #quote art #quote illustration #art therapy #hmh #mine

[living-dead-girl515]

Hey let's go for a walk

We can talk

Or not

Walk away from that pain

Let's see what you can gain

Even just for the day

#creative writing #writing #prose #poetry #prose poetry #poem #pretty words #new poets society #poemblr #poem blog #poetry is my therapy #my poetry #original poem #original poetry #spilled poetry #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled words