poeticperson - Tumblr blog

[poeticperson]

it's been ages since i posted on this blog, but if anyone wants to check out more of my new writings -

you can follow me on instagram, i'm fairly active on that then here!!! ^_^

[poeticperson]

this summer

i am going to find myself.

i am going to be proud and happy to be myself.

i am going to take courses on things that make me happy.

i am going to communicate with my friends and partner.

i am going to make the most out of my life, as life doesn't last forever.

i am going to eat healthy. my body is mine and i am responsible for it.

i am going to read. to be transported to magical places and befriend all of the characters.

i am going to play music. both songs i love and practice my guitar.

i am going to take care of myself. physically and mentally.

[poeticperson]

[poeticperson]

I just hope no one I know sees this. But like throughout my life I’ve noticed that I don’t really finish anything. Like there may be exceptions. But I’ve always been someone who just gives up halfway through. And I’ve always been like that. Like not finishing a book or assignments, movies, goals,classes, etc. I’ve just never done anything to the fullest point. I don’t even know what I’m doing right now. And this leaving stuff halfway through just makes me wonder maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be in life too. Maybe I’m not supposed to grow old and everything. Maybe my life is to end halfway through too. I mean what purpose is there to it really. I’m just so good at disappointing people I honestly feel I should take a job of that. Now that’ll be something I ace in. Also like wtf are we even here for? Live for a few years, fall in love which I personally find b*llshit now cause I mean who are even loyal these days now? And I’m not talking of that few exceptions who will love you for who you are and like forever, I’m talking of majority of the people. And then life just “goes on” you gotta earn money to “survive” and then just die. I mean seriously? So like that’s just my point and it’s okay if you disagree, everyone has different opinions. So yeah at one point I even thought to make this year my last year.

*u

[poeticperson]

I've been clean for a year now. Kinda proud of myself. March ends have always been horrible for me. But this time I didn't do it. So I'm a little happy.

[poeticperson]

from always being together to having crazy fun,

from caring about each other to going out of the way to cheer each other up,

from trying to have the best last time,

mama, i'm so sorry but i'm still not over the boy i liked when i was 7

he made me smile, he made me warm

but most of all he made me happy even when he was not around

you might think oh what a disaster this'll end up to be

but how can it be a disaster when i'm the eye of the storm,

mama, i'm so sorry i know love and feelings are for the weak

but somehow even though it's my weakness it's my strength too

it keeps me awake late at night and makes me daydream a lot too,

but it makes me wanna get better,

a lil bit better for both him and me,

mama, i'm so sorry i'm still not over the boy i liked when i was 7

i promised myself when i was 10 that this'll be nothing and that i'm over it,

i ended up liking a few people as i grew up

but at the end of the day it was him who made me smile before i fell asleep,

i had many dreams including many people

but the ones with him were so personal and i wouldn't like to share them with anyone,

mama, i'm so sorry i still like the boy i liked when i was 7

but he still seems like the guy who looked after me and made sure i was always smiling,

and he still seems like the same guy only grown up now,

mama, i'm so sorry i don't know when i'll stop liking the boy when i was 7

because i'm still here thinking of him all day,

writing about him and reading stories that remind me of him,

watching movies that remind me of him,

and i hope, oh i so dearly hope this ain't an obsession

beacause i'd rather die than being more crazy than i ever was

mama, i'm not sorry for ever liking him.

- i.t.//200326

[poeticperson]

I've wondered so many times what it'd be like to jump off a high building. With the faintest smile because I know that would be my last breath. It would be amazing feeling the breeze on my face as I fall. Oh how wonderful it'd be to finally die. To get away from this wretched place. To finally have a reason to stop caring. I can't wait to feel the adrenaline pumping in my veins as I reach close to the ground. I know i'd pop a bone or too. But that pain of living and breathing would be far worse than that. Ah! It'd be so beautiful to breathe my last breath.

-i.t.//200123

[poeticperson]

DOES HE LIKE NOT EVEN REMEMBER ME??? WOW.

I'll always be insecure when it comes to you :(

[poeticperson]

I'll always be insecure when it comes to you :(

[poeticperson]

It might've been years and you might've changed but I'd take you back in a heartbeat.

[poeticperson]

Rising over my walls

I gazed at the beautiful sky,

Pink, purple and golden glisters in them

The star on the right shone bright

And I wondered where I'd seen it?

I think it was a dream,

The one where apollo was watching over me

It was night and yet he still loved me

Was i dreaming then still?

Because he said he was a figment of my imagination

With curly hair and honey eyes he looked at me,

He took me home and tucked me in,

He took care of me on days I didn't want anyone to,

But he vanished on the ones I needed him too,

But then there was lofn too

I remember her royal blue and gold,

With cute freckles and pretty braids,

She showed me what being loved meant

She held my hands and walked me to school

And then took me stargazing at night

I asked her finally, why me?

She said because I made her

Made her to love me

And both were beautiful and ethereal

And both loved me as I did them

But as a lady, society told me what was right and what wrong

But they weren't simon and I wasn't playing a game

Why should I listen to them?

I wondered what was wrong with me

Why I loved both?

But that was who I was

Who I am

And who I will be

So when the day in spring came

I wondered watching the pretty clouds what my choice would be

And the answer was both

-i.t.//191207

[poeticperson]

“And on nights like this, I must write letters to you that I cannot send.”

— Lukas W. // Unsent letters

[poeticperson]

I can feel your skin at my fingertips,

Slowly ghosting over your soft lips,

Tracing the side of your neck,

Stopping to touch the hickey

I gave you last night when we were tangled in the sheets making love to each other,

I feel my hand passing the valley of your breasts,

Touching the cold metal of your pendant,

A slow light touch and I can hear you release a short hesitant breath,

I reach your waist and trace the tattoo on your hip,

The winding up vine of carnations that continues on the side of my chest,

It fits together like a puzzle when I hold you close,

I can feel your smooth thighs touching mine and the arch of your cute butt,

Like a soft breeze I trace my hands till your ankles as you release a soft moan,

Finally I softly take your chin in one hand

And hold your waist with my other,

Pull you close till I see the pink grow in your cheeks,

Look into your pretty eyes,

And softly kiss you,

Mumbling to you,

"I love you my citrus girlfriend"

-i.t.//190922

[poeticperson]

Like the first blossom she came into my life. Enchanting and mesmerising. I stopped to just take a look at the view. But it was so beautiful I stood there, not taking my eyes of it even for a second. Pink and soft petals gently falling. A beautiful sunset in the background. Couples seen everywhere, along with the little children who collected the pretty flowers in their small, cute hands. It was an ethereal sight. I never wanted to stop looking at it, just being there, in that moment, breathing into the comfort and nostalgia was.. perfect. But I knew I'd never see it again.. So I decided to sit there watching more flowers bloom, drifting in the wind, but falling right beside me.

- i.t. // 190819

[poeticperson]

Your Dreams Belong to You.

Show me all your dreams, paint them with your prose, I want to see the secret place, where no one ever goes. Tell me who you meet there, when your eyes begin to stir, Have you got a dreamy lover, is it him, or is it her. Translate for me the words, that you mumble in your sleep, tell me why your body trembles,  and your eyes begin to weep. Your eyes doth weep with pleasure, there’s a smile upon your face, And I want to shake you wide awake, and take you from that place. Then I put my arms around you, and I know to me you’re true, So enjoy the things you dream of, for your dreams belong to you. Ambrose Harte Scattered Thoughts

[poeticperson]

climate change is on the news

waking no nerve

or blink of an eye,

while climate change is on the news

perhaps it’s the brain the one melting?

[poeticperson]

Guys shoutout!! If y'all wanna read my writings on Instagram too you can follow me at _poeticperson_