graveyard-poets

[graveyard-poets]

It’s December and I haven’t Let go. I haven’t let go of the past, haven’t let go of the things holding me back from moving forward and I haven’t let go of all the things that I am not anymore. Haven’t let go of the memories. How can you let go of something if it meant so much to you. Is there love in letting go? I tell myself there is, it’s the only way letting go makes sense. I’m trying to though, everyday, and I feel like I’m getting there. It’s December and I haven’t let go. But I’m starting to.

[graveyard-poets]

This December is painful.

[graveyard-poets]

how strange is this world that we live in. so crowded and small, yet everyone has this feeling of being lonely— like we’re longing for something. but what? what was taken from us?

[graveyard-poets]

“To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides.”

— David Viscott

[graveyard-poets]

// I've been watchin' you for some time

Can't stop starin' at those ocean eyes //

// I'm scared, I've never fallen from quite this high

Fallin' into your ocean eyes, Those ocean eyes //

-Ocean Eyes, Billie Eilish

[graveyard-poets]

I’d swim every sea just to breathe you in once more.

[graveyard-poets]

Your presence made it easier to breathe

but now that you’re not here

it all feels so heavy

and I try to breathe

I feel suffocated by this chaos

like the world is caving in on me

and i can only remember how easy it was to breathe with you

but now that you’re not here

I try to learn how to breathe

I try to breathe

-Revanth

[graveyard-poets]

When you’re with someone, and you can be completely authentically be yourself around them, it can be so peaceful. Where you don’t worry about them judging you, where you feel heard , seen, where you almost feel like you’re home. You can openly be yourself, and know that the person will accept for you for who you are, and it just feels so peaceful and free to be around them. Where you feel so safe with them. It’s something else, isn’t it?

-Revanth

[graveyard-poets]

// Two months and I wait 'til the feeling hits, maybe I just haven't let it sink in //

// Held me like you'd hold me forever, didn't think that heartbreak would feel like this //

// I don't feel sorry for myself

Care if your hands touch somebody else

Wouldn't get jealous if you're happy

It's okay if you forget me

I don't feel empty now that you're gone

Does that mean it didn't mean nothing at all?

But I'll tell you what the worst is

It's the way it doesn't hurt

When I wish it did //

// From everything to nothing at all

Every day to never at all //

// I'm just really grateful that I had you //

It’s Okay if you Forget me - Astrid S.

[graveyard-poets]

I felt like we built something beautiful,

But the way it ended,

the way the hurt crept in and just undid everything we created,

I don’t think I’ll ever be okay with that.

-Revanth

[graveyard-poets]

Reblog if you're not homophobic

Every url that reblog’s will be written in a book and shown to my homophobic dad. 

[graveyard-poets]

i made you the subject of my art just to have an excuse to keep you on my mind everyday, to make you into what i wanted you to be, to loose my mind with you. to have you back, i made you subject of my art to have you back.

[graveyard-poets]

“If you are not willing to look stupid, nothing great will ever happen to you.”

— Unknown

[graveyard-poets]

Nothing is permanent, someone once told me, and although I knew it already, hearing it from that person, my favourite person, I realised painfully that this relation too wouldn’t be forever. Which is when I decided to change what the word forever means to me, I started finding forever in those little moments, releasing it from its definition of a time bound. You create those moments, you define your forever. So love, care, be kind, so that if you ever look back , you realise it was about the journey all along, and not how it ended, so that you don’t regret anything when it’s time for a new forever. We bring pain to ourselves when we think everything is forever, whereas truth is all good things must come to an end one day, it’s just a matter of when. So while you and I are here, on this earth, let’s create our Forever.

-Revanth

[graveyard-poets]

// No regrets is what we said, We can't go back again

Darling, nobody said that it would last forever

That doesn't mean we didn't try to get there //

// Two burning hearts are dared to break, remember

Nobody said that it would last forever //

Forever - Lewis Capaldi

[graveyard-poets]

Types of Academics as Coffee

(From what I've learned as a tired barista)

Espresso: Cold, sleepless nights and too many thoughts matched with too little words to express them. Silver rings that clink against ceramic cups and leather journals that have started bending and fraying after constant trips in bags. One too many college emails and not enough from lovers, friends. Text messages with periods.

Americano: Burnt fingertips against a to-go and cold hands otherwise. It's justifiable -- helps to push them to move pencils against paper, strike keys on a worn-down piano on the commute to class. Baggy, cozy sweatshirts chosen over rows of formal wear in the closet -- but they still look just as sharp. Convincing yourself that a sleepless night is worth an easier month.

Caffè Latte: Yearning for comfort in a busy, blocked-in schedule. Hunting for a balance between reward over hard work and keeping with the demands of one too many classes they regret taking. Playlists upon playlists, some they forget about only to dig up later and sit with. Discomfort and disappointment in how quickly things change -- fashion, interests, hobbies they're just starting to good at -- but pushing through nonetheless.

Caramel Macchiato: Calm and practiced effort when taking on the night shift, trudging through the day to get to the peace and quiet of night. Padded headphones, an extra robe or blanket, and an unlit candle between stacks of papers -- all things to get to, but none quite sorted. Daggers framed on the walls, sharp enough to have left a small scab on their hand. Respect and divinity in all they touch and write and experience.

Flat White: Tik-tak sounds against keyboards, quick finger-cracks snuck in between paragraphs to keep going. Warm, crunchy pastries after a long day -- every crumb swept up by fingertips and discarded onto the plate. Ceilings lit up by phone notifications, stained shoelaces, and analytical eyes over articles upon articles -- people upon people.

Caffè Mocha: Lingering smells from the night before, not quite washed away by a morning shower. Still trying to figure out how exactly they should be balancing their classes -- it's the end of the first semester. They're running late but their friends know them -- bring them a coffee they couldn't get to or remind them of a lab they're missing.

White Chocolate Mocha: Classics snapped closed because they just aren't as good as the latest fiction they had their hands on. Going step-by-step, pausing even after a whirlwind of events to sort everything out and look ahead. Excitement in prom or social events -- counting down the days until the next holiday or test or party.

Tea: Trying to see something -- a hint of the future -- in the dregs of their brew. Not ready for a relationship but longing for one -- not quite settled in their independence but not ready to compromise it. Music over a speaker, flooding a room with whatever they're into at the moment. A single tarot card pulled every month -- pinned to the wall.

[graveyard-poets]

You’re in my dreams a lot lately

always in the back of my mind,

Is this the only kind of forever

we were supposed to have?

-Revanth