24Palestine to GermanyWriter - poetry in my veinsHumanity over everything
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“You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.”
— Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena
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“There are people who will always come back for you, and it doesn’t matter how deep you bury their souls. in the middle of the night - they will come for you, floodlights on and the barriers smashed to pieces. and you’ll scream, and shout, and yell for them to leave you alone, but they won’t. And you’ll curl up into a ball on your bedroom floor, hands covering your ears, and pray they won’t break you again.”
— - charleigh aleyna.
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You Were Art
Going back in time, I see us together, holding hands and staring at each other’s faces. We never got bored, and we never had enough.
You considered me the whole world, and I did too, or may I say, I still do.
You were my symphony that I enjoyed, and you were my painting, that I admired without explaining.
You were my poem, that I wrote and loved too. You were art in every form, and I was the artist that knew.
You asked me one day; “What’s your favorite art piece?” I hesitated to say, and my hesitation will never cease.
Are you still needing to know?
It’s the picture of us, holding hands, and staring at each other’s faces. And oh god, have I missed it.
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I have lost you in all the ways I can and again you depart from me your ghost visits like a memory but it leaves behind an aching and I am breaking where I stand. The sound of your name rattles in my hands and I lose the strength to write, I cannot pen you into poetry when it is too dangerous a fight. I cannot keep you in either my heart or head, I cannot bury you in words I leave unsaid because I am too afraid to face them on my own. And though I have lived this life alone I am not ready to face the void and fall away and I am too broken a fragile thing to make the choice to stay.
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“In a shaky voice, he said: bring me back to you, or bring me back to myself. Don’t leave me standing in between. قال بصوت يرتجف رديني إليكِ .. أو ردّيني إليّ لا تتركيني واقفاً في المنتصف”
— arabic quote (via perf-act)
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Thats why I will love you forever.
yeah he's cute but does he want palestine to be free?
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ستنتهي الحرب يوماً و أعودُ إلى قصيدتي.. The war will end someday and I will return to my poem..
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“I got my mother’s insanity and her trust issues and my father’s temper and his secretive ways. They never were the most stable people. Imagine what I’m like when I’m the two of them together as one person.”
—
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You Were Art
Going back in time, I see us together, holding hands and staring at each other’s faces. We never got bored, and we never had enough.
You considered me the whole world, and I did too, or may I say, I still do.
You were my symphony that I enjoyed, and you were my painting, that I admired without explaining.
You were my poem, that I wrote and loved too. You were art in every form, and I was the artist that knew.
You asked me one day; “What’s your favorite art piece?” I hesitated to say, and my hesitation will never cease.
Are you still needing to know?
It’s the picture of us, holding hands, and staring at each other’s faces. And oh god, have I missed it.
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“tell me every terrible thing you’ve done and let me love you anyway. show me the darkest shadows of you and let me love you anyway. let me see how fractured you truly are so i can fill your cracks with my love. don’t push me away in fear of your darkness. let me love it instead.”
— j.e.b. ((i love you means all of you.))
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“I got my mother’s insanity and her trust issues and my father’s temper and his secretive ways. They never were the most stable people. Imagine what I’m like when I’m the two of them together as one person.”
—
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can you please write about long distance love. i'm dating a boy who lives abroad, I'm seeing him again in a couple of weeks but all i can do is think about him and honestly i think i could die from the pain. i know it's not feasible to live like this but even loving him through the distance means more to me than anyone here.
When I think about you, I do not think about all the things keeping us apart. I do not think about the distance. I do not think about the oceans, the mountains, the roads. I do not think about the space.
I think about the feeling of your hands and the imprints they have left on my skin. I think about the poetry in your soul. I think about last Tuesday night when I fell asleep to the sound of your breathing and felt as close to you as I have ever felt to anybody.
I know that the distance is an inconvenience. But love has never been for convenience. It has always been more.
You are more. You are more. To me, you are everything.
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“We were a strange love. Too wild to last, to rare to break.”
— Atticus (via syntacked)
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can you please write about long distance love. i'm dating a boy who lives abroad, I'm seeing him again in a couple of weeks but all i can do is think about him and honestly i think i could die from the pain. i know it's not feasible to live like this but even loving him through the distance means more to me than anyone here.
When I think about you, I do not think about all the things keeping us apart. I do not think about the distance. I do not think about the oceans, the mountains, the roads. I do not think about the space.
I think about the feeling of your hands and the imprints they have left on my skin. I think about the poetry in your soul. I think about last Tuesday night when I fell asleep to the sound of your breathing and felt as close to you as I have ever felt to anybody.
I know that the distance is an inconvenience. But love has never been for convenience. It has always been more.
You are more. You are more. To me, you are everything.
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“It aches everywhere.” she said. “And I don’t know what to heal first.”
My heart would be the last. //ma.c.a
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