#'there will be poems—' always makes me cry
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THE TERROR ▸ 1.09 the c, the c, the open c
#theterroredit#johnbridgensedit#jamesfitzjamesedit#the terror#john bridgens#james fitzjames#cnomadedits#dailytvfilmgifs#tvedit#filmtv#userbbelcher#cinematv#dailyshowbiz#'there will be poems—' always makes me cry#it just makes me so emotional bc???? you know what??? yes. YES bridgens you're right#it's true there WILL be poems#but also it's a little heartbreaking bc...does fitzjames find comfort in that now? at the end of vanity? does it make him feel good?#i don't know
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But tonight he is alive. And as he stares up at the sky, there are twice as many stars as usual.
(The two headed calf by Laura Gilpin)
#don't look at me this poem always makes me cry#and yuuji's suffering makes me so emotional#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#itafushi#fushiita#itadori yuuji#megumi fushiguro#nobara kugisaki#jjk art#jjk fanart#jjk trio#fushiguro megumi#kugisaki nobara#yuji itadori#citycrows.art
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man i’ve had pretty serious art block before in the past but it was always more a lack of inspiration/irl stuff draining all my energy, currently Not having art block but getting hit by my first bout EVER of feeling like i just straight up can’t make anything that’s good enough and oh my god how do people deal with this
#i have zero mental defenses against this bc it’s never happened to me#like i know i’m being stupid here bc i feel like everything ive ever drawn is somehow worse than anything anyone else has ever drawn#which first of all cannot possibly be the case bc art is subjective and also i’m not that special#and second of all ‘this means i’m bad at everything’ is not a reaction i have EVER had to art i consider ‘better’ than mine#i’ve always just been excited by the opportunity to learn how to do a new cool art thing i couldn’t do before#like what is happening here why did my brain broke#on the bright side this doesn’t seem to be even slowing me down from writing and drawing things and posting them anyway#but i could really do without the accompanying dramatics in the back of my head#‘you can’t post this you are an affront to art history and the whole of humanity’ shut Up brain it’s literally minecraft fanart for fun#anyway all this to say. thank you everyone being nice in the notes of my silly lil poems you’re gonna make me cry#mumbling
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Hurricane by Mary Oliver
#911 abc#911edit#maddie buckley#maddiebuckeyedit#mine: edits#911women#911verse#this poem always makes me cry#911 (2018)#tv shows
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#one of my fav poems#poems about oranges always make me cry#oranges#the orange#art#fanart#oc art#poetry
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SLAMONMOOSE KITS JAYCALL + BEEFRECKLE MATES & WARRIOR CEREMONY!!!!!! YES.... YES!!!
WAILS abt the kits firstly they are tremendously cute and the little bicolour being named Shrew is wonderfully heartbreaking. And HELL YEAH JAYCALL & BEEFRECKLE MOMENTS... Enjoy them both greatly I'm gnawing on them about it.
Why I'm here, though. Ohhhghh... Cinderstone has the same trait Grassroot did. Do you think Yewberry or Ivybounce are ever reminded of her, when they look at Cinders? It makes me think of the poem "A Drink of Water" by Jeffery Harrison...
(- 🐈⬛)
OHHH GOD I DIDNT EVEN THINK ABT THE CINDERSTONE THING.... SHE DOES HAVE THE SAME TRAIT AS GRASSROOT god thats so heartbreaking,,, bro the POEM????? wailing sobbing eating drywall
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maybe i’m just feeling really sad and stuff right now (i am, at least when this is queued, but that’s not the point) but i really REALLY wanna write something that just. makes someone sob. like yeah i joke that “i can never write happy stuff if it’s not upsetting it’s not mine sorry” but i feel like i never nail the raw emotion. i feel like i either lean too much or not enough into the “cliches” for it to work right. i wanna write something that just hits in the chest so hard so naturally, like i’m reading you perfectly at your worst. i want the sob to be genuine. and i wanna make it worth it. does that make sense??? idk. i know i’m still a “beginner” (haven’t been dedicated to writing poetry for even a year yet tbh; it was a hobby until my first class last semester) but like. this is my ultimate goal tbh. if i write something that resonates so strongly with someone that they cry and/or carry it for the rest of their life in a way that either hurts or haunts or relieves or maybe all of the above, then i guess i was a good poet.
or smthn idk
#idk my ‘making it’ has never been grand to me#even when i wanted to write stories my goal was always ‘if one person enjoys it then it’s good enough for me’#like. i don’t know if i want my work to outlive me in a grand way. i just want it to resonate#i want it to make the average probably queer probably isolated probably traumatized kid to feel so seen#if i can sincerely impact somebody with any of my work in any way that just haunts them in any emotion then. i guess my work was good enough#you know????#idk i’m still feeling emotional rn but like there’s a sentiment i’m trying to say but i can’t seem to say it right#if i can’t do that in my own tags how am i supposed to do it in a poem (/hj) 😭#like. like when i heard we’ll never have sex for the first time!! it was everything i’ve ever felt about my aceness!!#and yeah it’s an ace anthem to me and it’s beautiful but it still makes me cry yknow!!#because it’s beautiful yet sad to me (as someone who can never make that relationship stick) at the same time!!!#i want my shit to hit like that!!!#grace being kinda serious for once#text post#personal#poetry
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Not me crying at 10 am over mommy issues
#this poem hit me right in the gut#HARD!#Vianney Harelly will always make me cry with her poetry#especially when it's about mother/daughter relationships#I feel my inner child weeping everytime and healing a little
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Pearl handled Colt .45
God knows I would've let it go beside of me
getting nauseated in the land of the forgotten and free
and I always cry when I leave 'cause the sight is just too much
wet-teethed and undressed with nothing you can touch —
and it splits through the sound of my sneakers hitting concrete
echoes my promise to meet you at the end of the street
never knowing when to ride or die so I let you take me for a drive
and we'll go around the bend of that familiar I-65
there's an angel waiting for me there and I know he hates me
no matter what I'll do it makes everybody fucking angry
I'm sorry for saying I'd do my best for you — I swear I tried
watching the lowlight bleeding into all of my cop out
like a rubber to blacktop mirage in a real good summer drought
always saying the only time I'll open up is when I'm firing
and you want me to put on a show and show you that I'm trying
forever praying this is the end when I know it’s not
I'm getting lost in a vacant parking lot
talking about jacking the car like bonnie and clyde
find some backroad drive and let it take us through the night
but the black and white never gives up a good fight
and heaven knows we'd never make it to the border up ahead
through a highway car chase they'll shoot us both through the head
you keep your hands off the wheel and say to get in the backseat
all of my tailgate shoot-out dies in the moment of heat
— keep it steady until we're consumed by the sound
with my back against the driver's seat for another round
but there's no silver lining on my pearl handled .45 and I'm sorry
all my empty bodied promises always go off before me
and I could be better — it wouldn't matter
can't help the way I'm already soaking red through the leather
they've got me good like I already knew they would
while you're making me out to be a fever dream misunderstood
only slowing to a stop when my body's all torn up with gunfire
but when I die it'll be because I'm burning up by all your live-wire
I knew I'd never live past the time of my life in your hit and run
we've lasted a while — we'll never outlast the shotgun
consequences of an outgunning fate better off dead
even at my best I'll always show through every shade of red
calling it a game — you're all the fucking same
can't keep me warm so long all your colors blue run the vein
we're already closing in the line I’ve walked once before
on some leeway byway where you heard me begging for more
giving up all my backseat guts and glory — red and blue
until the morning breaks with knuckles to the stained rearview
there's nothing left to forgive me over my dead body
we all dig our own graves in the places where we feel most free
God knows I've smoked the tailgate grave there before
so I'll light one up in the name of another closed screen door
go on and tell me I did it to myself in hindsight
dreamt about you pressing me face-down against the headlight
haven't been on this side of the road conversations in a while
where I keep missing the tin can target by a goddamn mile
and when you asked me when and where I want it
I made you wait while I took out my handholding and shot it
'cause I'd always hold the gun if you asked me to
but if you know me like you say you do would you still ask me to?
when you're still gunning for a bonnie and clyde highway drive
but you won't take me out of that pearl handled colt .45
told me you're a good shot and that you give it all you got
God — I wish you'd never dreamt about the end of a parking lot
saying you get off on willingness as long as I give it to you
and I loved it until you took a turn so different to how I view you
no stranger to the turn away and I've always told you that
but you want me to put on a show — now you ruined all of that
the way you pictured me faceless through a broken up dirt street
you told it like it didn't matter who you'll drag into the backseat
I don't want anyone holding me when they don't want me
and you don't get why I never let anyone put their hands on me
I've only been good for the bend and break of my body
and I keep soaking through with all my color red — I'm sorry
laying in the middle of the street and letting the moment pass me by
I won't hold the .45 — I'm not going for your joy ride or die
#so far removed from myself in a fantasy it made me turn the heel completely#this is not meant to be shady btw#they just wanna fuck me & that's ok but I need to be more than a body#writeblr#writing#original writing#poetryslutsreloaded#writers of tumblr#poetry#poem#spilled ink#poems on tumblr#poetry by renae#renae#fun fact hook-up culture will actually kill me to death one day#I'm so fucking sick and tired of always being seen as a body to fuck#it makes me feel worthless until I just cry and cough up a lung#i don't want to be pretty and sweet i want to be all teeth and covered in blood and scary and untouchable
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Feeling very jittery + strange + dissociated it is notttt going to be a good day
#I always shame myself for being ill but the reality is that I'm ill. anger can't cure it or treat it or manage it so I might as well treat#myself as if I were a child; soft. listening to stop crying your heart out which was my favourite song ever when I was 10/11#and maybe feeling a little sentimental about it. I always tell myself kid-me would be so disappointed; but I used to make little#leaf hospitals for worms and cry when my mum's patients died despite never having met them. she/I wouldn't be so cruel#anyway. going to make some soup later + hopefully write a poem or two (pleaseeee) + read I think. maybe bake if I feel okay enough#save me brown butter banana bread recipe. save me#log
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"You can be an angel!" and it's double meanings currently make me go insane bc for crowley, it sounds like an invitation he should want bc he's "good enough" for it and someone's deigning to give it to him, (but we ALL know that's the last thing aziraphale could MEAN it as) but to AZIRAPHALE it's the chance to do something that's never been done before. it's not about bringing crowley back into the fold as a former disgraced prince of heaven but to make the place perfect for the both of them and for everyone, bc it's clear that heaven has an institutional problem, and wouldn't it be perfect if they could be happy together in a place they made their own? but i don't think he realizes that they already have a place like that
#it's his responsibility as an angel rearing its head and the same goddamn fight from s1#yes they have a wonderful life on earth‚ but there's still so much GOOD that could be done#& i think azira was so happy and giddy in this dream he created of the two of them being happy in heaven#that i don't think he realized#that try as he might#there's no amount of fixing that would ever make that place something crowley would consider home#it'll always be the place that rejected him for simply asking questions#and to go up there and wrangle it into shape when he wasn't wanted feels like insult to injury#but bc this was all wrapped up in a love confession 'i don't want to go to heaven' turned into 'i don't want to be there with you'#they can't separate their love for each other from their experiences w heaven‚ hell‚ and earth#honestly it makes me go JSSHDUSGSHSHANAJSBD and i want to shake neil gaiman by the shoulders and also just cry bc this shit is so MASTERFUL#goshsshsh i'm just. thinking abt aziraphale wanting to make heaven PERFECT for the two of them and it reminded me of that siken poem#'here is a place for it to happen. a place where i can love you.' proud to say i'm ending it all!#good omens 2#good omens s2#good omens spoilers#good omens season 2 spoilers#good omens s2 spoilers#good omens 2 spoilers#good omens#ineffable husbands
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If I had a wish I could wish for you, I’d make a wish for sunshine all the while.
#sunshine on my shoulders#john denver#poems prayers and promises#sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy :) in my eyes I could cry :( on the water it is so lovely :} always makes me high :•]#Spotify
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reading my own poetry. starting to think this bitch has some traumas and mental problems
#i need to listen to yoyok again at some point to be more hopeful abt life and the world#i love it but o never listen to it bc um it makes me cryyy lol#but i need to. and tha thing is im always fucking crying anyway#flappy rambles#also general; have been a bit more hopeful recently these poems r mostly from a while back. but still#i havent even had a my lifei s ever an impossible breakdown once a week since. i went to see pibtlw#either that movie gave me a sense to more appreciate life. or i am am happier now i have more colourful catroons to distract me#take ur pick lol.
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ive heard that dogs know theyre different from humans and cats think humans are just weird cats. but the crucial thing is that's the direction it goes! cats don't turn that confusion inward like a human raised on individualism and in group/out group mechanics might. cats know they are cats. cats are good at being cats and they do not stop to doubt whether they should be doing the cat thing.
does anybody have that cat poem, you know the one. not mary oliver's poem. the one about a cat growing up with you like brothers but him still being small whereas you've grown tall. i need a good cry
#i wasnt gonna share this poem because it made me SO sad and cry a LOT#but then i thought if anyone else sees this and feels that way too i want this little reassurance to be there#because really#if there is one thing no cat has ever felt#it's uncertainty about whether it should be doing cat things#cats#poetry#rmsic#some of these lines unfortunately are still true to an extent. yes the cat wants my food more than his#but the thing is that's because he's a doofus who doesnt know im a vegetarian and that will make his tummy hurt#and he knows i like him. he absolutely does. he purrs louder when i say i love you. he even accepts kisses#he doesnt LIKE kisses but he knows they are a sign of affection from me so he tolerates them. even appreciates them in a way#he directs headbutts to my mouth#once i saw prism go to headbutt dad's mouth and stop short of his lips#and dad asked what he was doing#and somewhat mystified i said he must be waiting for dad to meet him with a kiss#and that i never knew prism would do that because i always completed the kiss automatically#so yes. they know we like them. they know we love them. they think we are weird and occasionally annoying#but i promise you a cat has never felt there was anything wrong with him for being a cat not a person#he might be worried that YOU are not a good enough cat and bring you prey to help you out#but he's fine
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why are james blunt songs making me sob, this was supposed to be nostalgic and cathartic hhjkjghfkg
#just finished a 2 hour cram session for my lit mock later#gotta remember 16 poems and a play from the 1940s for paper 2#i have not revised nearly enough <3#for anything <333#carry me home has no right to be making me cry this much#i jsut want to stop stressing and sleep >:[#oh welll#i can always just loop postcards if this carries on lol#wish me luck for later bbgs <///3
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Farewell to a cat
Today, life is enemy of the human.
The light stings. It scorches through the skin.
And through empty spaces
the clock of timelessness strikes.
Today we will bury our dead cat.
Being cat.
Being alive.
Creeping close to the ground.
Coming into the house.
Belonging for a moment.
Being caressed, getting milk by the stove, responding to a name.
Lying there with eyes glowing in the darkness
and supple predator body.
Sharpening one's claws for battle that never comes.
Being dead
And nothing more.
Unassuming life, who was content with so little:
a bowl of milk, a patch of sunshine
and sleep with jungle-gleams!
Assuming death, in this shape,
what do you want from me, what can i give you?
I dig.
I bury my heart.
I bury my life.
And mothers in the waste land dig their children's graves themselves.
And soldiers in the battle fields throw their dead comrades into pits.
Now I bury the sun.
Now eternity is sinking.
O, who can believe that life is more than life!
Immortal soul joins
a dead poor cat.
Will it be that much less lonely underneath the bare birch tree?
Poem by Ebba Lindqvist, translation by me
#poetry translation#words#this poem always always makes me cry!!!!!! so i want to share it#sorry for bad translation#animal death#i miss my cat!!!!!!
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