#writers on love | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bookwormbluee · 6 months

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🖤

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creatingnikki · 3 months

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falling in love.

there are not many people I come across that impress me. few that amuse me.

amusement may spark an interest. but it takes so much more to brew love.

tonight I don't crave being loved. tonight I crave falling in love. and you know, you know there was not much I knew when I was fourteen but I knew one thing right — you cannot fall in love, the true kind of love, if in that equation you are not loved back.

love is energy. that energy is an exchange. it is not one sided. not the love you know soul-deep.

and tonight that's the love I crave. the man I will fall in love. whose existence will make my heart happy, my soul calm, and my mind eleated.

yes, that's what I crave. falling in love.

it's equal in its presence, in its intensity, in its gentleness. it's the meeting of two souls. that's what the spark is. and when those two souls stay? that's what the spark evolves into — true love.

I've felt the spark one too many times but it always flickered too soon and extinguished if I was lucky or charred everything around me if I was not.

when did the spark get to evolve fully? never, not once.

but now that is what I want. the evolution of the spark. the stability of love. the surety. the equality of love. the meeting of two souls. the building and nurturing of a language of the two souls; a universe only they know and in the presence of which they glow with peace and contentment.

#spilled ink #poeticstories #poetryportal #writerscreed #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #writers on love #poets on love #spilled thoughts #love #true love #falling in love #what i want #creatingnikki

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monaros-a · 10 months

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Aynı dünyanın yanlızlarıyız, ta ki

Kalplerimiz birbirine rastlayana kadar..,

______________Alıntı 💫🕊️..

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almostsomewheremaybe · 10 days

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She asked me why I had been silent.

It ended quietly. Quietly, even as a war of feeling raged in my chest. Much to my shame, the words would not fight back. Silent shame and shameful silence followed the endless path of my bottomless pain. So yes, I was silent. I had so much to say, and could never begin to tell you. No matter how much I wanted to. Despite every time I almost did. This unholy vow of silence could not be broken. I thought this a great moral failure. A little death that becomes a real one. It took me many years to finally hear the music. The secret chords of every lost cause…

Yes, I was silent. The Love was not.

#poetry #poem #writing #love #spilled ink #spilled poetry #poet #poets on tumblr #spilled thoughts #spilled words #writers on love #spilled heart #heart break #healing #lovecore #hopecore

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thepastisapebbleinmyshoe · 20 days

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Do you wonder what I see, or how I interpret the world, and all it's distorted beauty. The books I read, and how I, sit at home, to quietly fill time, as he becomes a distant thought, drifting so elegantly out of sight. Shall I stumble in multidimensional, and intrinsic qualities, that separate, me from you, melodramatic interludes. What a powerful burden you bestow, I've politely refused, for I'm not a light, or mortal man's delicate burning muse. So, please do not beg me to breathe, the air from his lungs, an infatuated love, only to evaporate with the morning sun, for each night he will die and I will rise, in a temporary utopia, made of him and I.

Utopia

#writers on love #burning muse #poets on poetry #spilled ink #poetry lovers #short poetry #writerscreed #law of attraction #artists on tumblr #poetry #original poetry #writers on tumblr

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suffering-is-cute · 5 months

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Write stories on quiet pages. I ask you, write stories on quiet pages. I bless you to not need the page to be angry or loud, screaming defiance.

Let your stories be questions cupping the heart of your readers like water pooling, trickling through hands. Even if they eventually leave the world of the story, let the cooling touch of chilly water refresh them, let the surface of the water reflect back an utterly different and yet exactly similar face.

Let the features of the story belong to them. Let your words be heard in the emptiest parts of their souls, making tracing patterns over the walls of their heart with your fingertips.

Let them resonate, reverberate, not shriek.

Let yourself ask them over the due course of time, let yourself ask them why they are hurting so. Let your stories be kind and courageous. Let them be a little sorrowful and let them be haunted. And let them remember, you must do this,

let them remember there is hope and that hope is an exquisite thing, not an expectation or a capricious belief. It is not some heist in the night. Hope is steady, flickering, allowed to waver but similarly allowed to be relit.

Let them remember by your side that the pulsing of the heart shows life, and that constant silence means death. Let them remember how wonderful it feels to gasp, drawing breath after a long dive. Let them be difficult in your embrace, and still yourself to be the frame that catches their falling body. Let them jump into your arms, and let them wonder when they must. Let them worry, let them fail, just let them be children.

To grow up - know this, to grow up, a child must choose. To want to take responsibility for others -

that kind of love cannot be forced by years or by the spinning of the clock or the earth on its axis. It must be voluntary and you cannot nag at it to go faster. To let them grow up, you must show them how brilliant you can be. By example, then, examine their heart and yours, and learn from them equally.

There are many things you have also forgotten. Allow your story and your readers to help you remember, help you heal. It will take some time, some effort, but I promise that one day you will smile freely and it will be quite difficult for you to stop. Things change. Things will be different. Your voice will glow when you speak of someone and you will know that you can’t turn back.

That day, our day, my day, will simultaneously be the most perfect and the most painful day in the world. On that day, your own heart will make a request of you. On that day, I hope that you will find it in yourself to decide to trust in that waiting hand, give in, and grow up.

#original poem #spilled ink #poets on tumblr #original poetry #poems and poetry #twcpoetry #writers #poets of tumblr #writerscreed #poeticstories #prose poem #prose poetry #poems #poetry #writers on writing #writers on love #writers on readers #writing for an audience #sufferingiscute

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dal-chawal · 2 years

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To the man I will fall in love with -

No matter the external cold temperament of mine, I am still empathetic by heart, I am the cringe version often, and the mature adult in need of an hour. My hopeless romantic heart needs affection, however, it loves showing affection the most, on the days when I feel low, you will find me vibing to the sad playlist of mine, shuffling mindlessly, jumping from one song to another real quick, on days when I am the happiest, you will be the reason behind it, for the smile of yours would bestow the warmth of divinity. I have this presentiment hovering around my soul, and on your bad days, there won't be a single chance I will leave you alone, we will figure out everything together.

You know I would love it, to keep you closer to me, because no one has ever been close to me (even a tiny bit) and I want to make it last for eternity, hope when I meet you, I am in the most magnificent days of mine, for I want all my miseries to end once and for all, 'cause for a long time this heart has suffered trauma. so when our destiny finally get along we will create the fairytale of ours, which I have always craved and detested too, but with you, it'd indubitably feel like the warmth of a sunset (when the sun would gradually hide into the horizon - leaving behind the favourite colours of ours, your hand in mine)

You will find me smiling/appreciating the little things that life has to offer me, for I am one who gets happy to watch the moon pinned so aesthetically on the black canvas. if my fate does get along with yours, I will take you in my arms and kiss you under the moonlight, and would want to etch you in every fibre of mine, you and I (a tale worth waiting for)

- cs 🌙🕊️

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diariodelissa · 1 year

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Jake was fascinated when he heard MC speak. He thought of many things. He thought about kissing her and leaning her against the wall. He wanted to undress her and love her.

MC noticed his blush and laughed. She passed her arms around the hacker's neck, hugged him tightly and gave him a long, deep kiss.

#duskwood #duskwood jake x mc #jake duskwood #duskwood jake #mc duskwood #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood mc #writers on love #love #ship

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sumfabula · 2 months

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orange

please peal me away like an orange, and tell me the soft flesh inside is sweet. please take your tongue and let it reach the white hyphae of veins, bold on the flushed flesh. it’s supple and soft. please reach into my heart, and with your hands,search for the life giving arteries like your own life depends on it. keep going, until the breath stealing mould begins to take. all of us imitate the pattern of the roots that we dug up to get here, all of them loop inwards into each other: my veins, your nerves, the trees on the ground , the nebulae in the sky. it is all the same. but it doesn’t matter, because maybe i will be loved, and the peel will rot away into the soil, and what we took will be given back. it doesn’t matter, as long as it’s us, entwined.

#writing #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #original prose #poetry #original work #oranges #love #love prose #being down bad #poems #young writer #writers on love

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dolly-till-i-die · 1 year

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Collapse into me-

The way summer does to fall The way words slips from the mouth The way the knife into the sheath How splendid you are to me In the substance of all things As the measure of the day- With Dawn’s first rays Slow touch on the lids of the earth Till the Fog's glint upon sea To the ground and what is beneath And in the substance of the fraying light That creeps upon the thinning night To the movement of the reeds Brushstrokes of wind shadowing the beach And so like an animal in grass As so hiding and abiding- within and around- To be silenced in the awe of sound

Be as such with me

#love #poems #original poetry #valentines #spilled poetry #writers on love #poets #romantic

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bookwormbluee · 6 months

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Uyandığım her sabahı

inançla selamlıyorum.

🖤

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creatingnikki · 3 months

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there I was grieving yet again. another year, another person. was grieving love lost easier than actually loving someone? was it more romantic, more romanticized?

because if here you were with me at 7:28 pm stuck in rush hour traffic with our clothes all sandy after an evening at the beach. me having had a fight with my sister on the phone and all irritated, and you worried about reaching home in time for your work call at night, would I still want you by my side? would you?

now, sitting here alone, looking at the market outside, I miss you. but what about you do I miss? I miss your smile, I miss your attention, I miss your kisses, and I miss your jokes. but if we were actually together, day in and day out, how many jokes would pepper our conversations? how many kisses and smiles would be exchanged?

being a tourist in a city is lovely, it's romantic. moving there and trying to make a living, however? that's a whole other thing. ask me, I loved Bangalore when I simply went there to visit a friend. the bookstores, the weather, the clubs. but when I moved there for work? I couldn't go a day without finding 10 faults and missing my home city. the traffic that seems to not move, the overpriced cabs, the power cuts.

isn't a fling, an affair, a summer romance, an on and off thing, a lot like being a tourist in the land and life of your lover? your experience is limited to the aesthetic cafes, comfortable hotels, and you spend money by girl math logic cos you're on vacation and what's even a budget? as your lover's tourist, is your experience not limited to only the butterflies, the flirting, the passion, and the sexual tension? the 2 am existential conversations and the brief cuddling the next morning before you both have to get back to your respective lives?

so how much of this missing is even objective? do I really want a real, long-term relationship with you? do I want to have multiple summers with you? and all the seasons in between? would I like you in Bangalore as much as I would in Mumbai? would I want you along for my Seoul trip? would I want you not just on Friday nights when we have a date night planned but on Thursday afternoons when I am unwell, throwing up in the office washroom hating everything about life?

would I want you to be a part of my life, my home? would I want to give you a pass beyond a tourist visa? would I want you as a permanent resident?

and if not, then can I, just stop with this misery that is missing you constantly. missing you, what we shared in the past, the brief bliss is so much more pleasurable than any reality we have shared or perhaps could. I know it, I do. then why won't this sticky feeling of missing you not go away? the monsoon is too far away to wash this feeling away. for now I will have to find another way.

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monaros-a · 1 year

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İnsan diyorum;..

Öyle durduk yere soğumuyor..

İnsanlardan..

___________Frida Kahlo...

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almostsomewheremaybe · 5 months

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she can keep my hoodie

and why did I ever expect to get it back

you know how girls come into your life

and take your hoodie

and vanish into the night

well today I saw her story

where she wore it like her own

and should after all she gave

the growth and peace

that I wore every day

never to return

that she paid for in years spent

and hope lost and lonely tears

she made me better forever

and her love still robes my heart

I keep those garments without shame

and this is the point I think

to love someone as if you’re

giving them the clothes off your back

she can keep my hoodie

and why would I ever want it back

#poetry #poem #poet #spilled ink #spilled poetry #love poem #poets on tumblr #spilled thoughts #spilled words #writers on love #spilled feelings #spilled heart #love quotes

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thepastisapebbleinmyshoe · 7 days

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"You may cast me as the villain, a heartless and entitled vagabond. If I am to be the darkness, I beseech thee, at the gates of the kingdom of heaven, to be unmasked, as the kind hearted, delightfully clever, sinner I feel that I am".

A Heartless Vagabond

#writers on love #burning muse #poets on poetry #spilled ink #poetry lovers #short poetry #writerscreed #law of attraction #artists on tumblr #poetry #original poetry #writers on tumblr

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bsymind · 8 months

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she wore earrings because they reminded her of the sky; glistening and only ever noticed by those with an eye for love

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