wordsand
idk man
Marcus • she/her • bi • poetry, aesthetic and the occasional meme
41 posts
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Last Seen Blogs
krjayesh
Jayesh Kumar
briddellamor
제목 없음
len-jester
len_jester
what-about-a-bagel
Welcome to the clusterfuck
touchofamemory
Summer Tearz
Text
Who Am I, If Not Something to Look At?
TW: self h*rm, suic*de
You tell me I’m allowed to feel; that I can play my tears with the same volume that I play my laughter. Audio hiked up to the highest setting you can cover your ears even beaten and bleeding my cackle continues.
Dancing or desolate, a ghost in the gutter, the cackle is my constant.
My cackle continues, a looping laugh track in every scene maybe if I keep it going we wont notice the crimson cross stitching between comedy and tragedy. My costume was crafted long before I can recall and I’ve spent almost 20 years searching for the sparkly inseams.
My mouth tightly sewn in a jagged arch nevermind the blood, this sequined strait jacket has been mine for as long as I can remember.
Who am I, if not something to look at?
You tell me I’m allowed to feel but if I show you that self, will you stay? Some mornings I want to score my skin, rip up the floorboards and peer at the world from beneath it.
Most mornings I marvel the crocodile.
Unseen and unheard, she circles her domain, the showing of her teeth serving no purpose but reaching her next meal. Would you really wade in that water?
You can’t cut the curtain.
If you miss my chuckle morph to choke, my sparkle turn to sweat, maybe you’ll stay? Will you stay?
You clutch me tightly and promise to protect me from pain and my cackle continues. The stage has seduced you and I am the seducer. But just as I am the beast beneath the boards I am also the prey between her jagged teeth. Will you hold me when I come for me?
If this is my closing set, please don’t cut the curtain. Where do I go when your seats are all empty?
-Marcus
#poetry#spilled poetry#spilled ink#spilledink#self harm#suicide#tw self loathing#tw self destruction#tw self image#tw self harm#sad poem
1 note
·
View note
Text
I've done some thinking and realised;
with literally whatever happens I'll either be okay in the end or I'll die.
Public speaking coming up? Not gonna die and even if I fuck up it literally WILL NOT matter in the future
Fail my exam? Nice, there's next sem, I can repeat, I can move on, I can get special considerations
Fucked up that social interaction? Am I gonna die? Only on the inside, that person will be nothing but a speck ten years from now my brah.
0 notes
Text
Smile
Don't ever let anyone tell you that
Your smile is ugly.
It can melt icebergs
And incinerate
a thousand warships.
It has lit up the sky
Faster than any firework
Ever could.
If anyone ever tries
To tell you otherwise
Smile.
Scorch them where they stand
Make them
Bear the brunt of your beauty.
Your joy is your defiance.
-Marcus
#poetry#poems#spilled poetry#poets of tumblr#poets elixir#poem#poets corner#poets on tumblr#angry poem#angry poetry#smile#beauty#self love#self care#spilled ink#spilled writing#spilled thoughts#alternative#punk#punk rock#revenge#revenge poetry#defiance#screw you#azula#war#joy#feminism#feminist poetry#feminist poem
0 notes
Text
Don't sound good in this story?
Fix what you can and
Close the book
There are better ones.
-Marcus
#motivational#spilled ink#spilled writing#spilled thoughts#spilled poetry#poetry#poems#poem#self love#self care#guilt#poets elixir#poets of tumblr#poets on tumblr#positivity#stories
0 notes
Text
“The strange thing is that I still love you in some way. I care about you and sometimes when I think about you or when I see you, my heartstrings pull in your direction. Yet, there is no longer a place in me for you because I have healed from that bleeding mark our love once left.”
— tara love / i still remember, but my muscles no longer tense at the memories
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Drunken Ramblings
Eyes of milky white
Face of withered bone
Contorted creature
Your rage burns
Blood to a fine mist
A soul to dust.
Towering shadow
Hunched over
Teeth of knives
The moon is a metal vice
A clamp
On your exposed neck.
You blame it for
Your savagery
and yet
The sun is shining
Your humanity
Nowhere to be found.
Purple welts coat your skin
Your fur no longer gleams
They've unlocked your cage yet
You're welded to the beams.
-Marcus
#poem#poetry#poets of tumblr#goth#poets elixir#poets corner#new poets society#poets on tumblr#poetscommunity#poems#werewolf#werewolves#moon#werewolf poetry#moonlight#spilled ink#spilled poetry#spilled writing#spilled thoughts#spilled words#spilledink
0 notes
