#Spilled Writing

[johnny-depp-is-loved]

if this post reaches your dashboard, consider it a sign that you’re loved

[inkprilled]

Do the people we drift away from ever return to us.

When my parents spilt up I didn't see my dad for months, during this time I would spend nearly every day playing with my friend Kelsey. We would get our hair caught climbing trees or make terrible perfume from her neighbours flowers. One time she pulled out a box from under her bed, it was filled with snails of different sizes collected from her garden "we're going to colour the shells". So that's what we did, we gently coloured around 20 in bright orange, red or purple, after that we put them near a tree by her house. We did all this to see if the same ones would come back, we thought at least 5 would. Weeks went by and we didn't see any colourful shells in her garden, they had moved on. Sometimes people leave and they don't come back, but you still hold the memories close, you still carry their mark on you and maybe they carry yours too.

Maybe somewhere out there, there are snails with brightly coloured shells and maybe carrying a piece of someone with you is enough.

[fracturedporcelaindoll]

Beautiful~

You see, dearest creature, I could sit up all night: we might go to moonlight ruins, cafés, dances, plays, junketings: converse forever; sleep only while the moon covers herself for an instant with a thin veil;

Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vita Sackville-West wr. c. September 1928

[sacriificiallamb]

you’re all i ever wanted

i’ll starve myself until i’m small enough to fit in the palm of your hand

on my knees in a satin dress

slipping off my shoulders

wet with spit

red with need

looking at you from beneath my lashes

am i pretty when i cry, daddy?

you’re so handsome when you hit me

i’ll wear the bruises like flowers in my hair

[sajra-savera]

Date idea :

You tell me all the reasons why you think it won't work out. And I prove each of your doubts wrong.

[poemwav]

Kahlil Gibran | "On Pain" (1923)

[threewordusername]

"November."

d.b.a

[fracturedporcelaindoll]

Beautiful~

Vladimir Nabokov, in a letter to Vera Slonim, written c. January 1924 featured in Letters to Véra

[johnny-depp-is-loved]

if this post reaches your dashboard, consider it a sign that it’s all going to be okay

[inkprilled]

Dear 2025.

I write this in November 2024, but I know it will find it's way to you in no time at all, you have been approaching faster than I can keep up with.

I ask that you will take it easy and slow, I ask that you let me settle in before 2026 makes their way in. I know you can't control what the people do, but I ask you make the bad days soft, give us only a few.

Sincerely a hopeful heart.

[pixiesoul]

love, s

[oneandocey]

Colour palette

I thought I was doing better again,

But my art tips my hand,

One poem like the next,

Each painted with pain,

Monochrome,

How unfair I've been to the other shades,

Neglected wetting my brush on lighter pigments,

There is joy in my days and sunshine in my mind,

What a disservice it is then to talk only of storms.

[sajra-savera]

And because I am my father's child, I would rip my skin and wrap it around to keep you warm but never let you know how much I love you in words.

[cudles]

[marandsviet]

Your potential is endless. Go do what you were created to do.