#and call it a poem

[youmaycallmeleader]

poetry is the worst because it's like "oh here's all my suffering packed neatly into four line stanzas and rhyme scheme teehee" and some fuckin' rando will just go "this isn't very good" and give you 2 stars on amazon or wahtevr

[llovely]

here's a fake interview about my me & my girlfriend that i transcribed from my head. enjoy!

[kiisuuumii]

Kaveh Akbar, from "No Is a Complete Sentence," from Calling a Wolf a Wolf

[cicada-heart]

bonaventure cemetery 🤍

august 2024

[ladyhawke]

– Ferreira Gullar (insp.)

[asuna-elentroda]

Falling in love with a character feels like trying to catch sunlight my hands. It’s warm, it’s beautiful, it fills the spaces I didn’t know were empty and yet… it slips through my fingers every time. It doesn’t stop me from reaching, of course. How could it? They make me feel so alive! Their pain twists in my stomach, their voice lingers in my mind like a song I never want to stop playing. I hold them close in a way that’s both intimate and impossible, and it leaves me hollow in ways I can’t quite name.

Our hearts don’t know the difference. Truly, it doesn’t care that they’re nothing more than ink on paper or colored pixels on a screen. Love doesn’t require clarity to bloom, it only needs a spark. And anyway scientifically, the spark doesn’t know what’s real and what isn’t, right? Our brains are wired for connection, attachment, and it clings to the echoes of something that feels like love. To our minds, this is as real as the warmth of a hand, as real as the quiet of a shared moment. It lights up in the same places it would for someone flesh and bone and breathing beneath the touch of our fingertips

But that’s the tragedy of it, isn’t it? The love we feel is real, yet it has nowhere to go. We can’t reach them. We can’t hear their laugh in the room with us or feel their eyes meet ours in a way that says we are known. And so, we grieve. Quietly. Privately. The kind of grief that doesn’t know how to name itself because it’s not just loss. It’s an ache for something that never truly existed. It lingers, like perfume in an empty room. Knowing our heart is capable of such depth, even if it was never meant to be returned, is bittersweet. Perhaps that’s why it hurts so much, because it’s real for you and me, even when they never can be.

[midnightdemonhunter]

I say, Then it’s not love anymore.

Michael says, It was love up to then though.

[myfakeplasticlove13]

This has no theme I guess

or maybe it does

But it’s just that’s it’s november now and it’s cold and lonely without you and time doesn’t move like it’s supposed to and I don’t know what to do

[edinburgh-by-the-sea]

"I sat on the ruined margin of the deep-voiced echoing sea / Whose roaring foaming music crashed in endless cadency"

[orpheuslament]

Paris, August 2024, Dante Émile

[thestuffedalligator]

Always thinking about Edward Lear. Fascinating man. Painted parrots. Popularized the limerick. Epileptic and almost definitely queer by modern standards. Loved his tabby cat and it was rumoured that he had a perfect copy of his house built when he moved to Sanremo so the cat wouldn’t be confused. He drew himself like this.

He wrote The Owl and the Pussycat and a poem where he described himself as “ill-tempered and queer,” and “perfectly spherical.” I feel like I’ve met several men like this in my life.

[inkprilled]

An incoming phone call you say

And I freeze like a deer in headlights

Have I been hit, I feel blooding rushing past my ear drums

My heart is beating quick

then quicker, a fast rapid flicker

it's trying to run away, but my body won't move

Instead my body stands shock still and I watch locked in, but so far removed

I'm dizzy spinning around and round in my amygdala, a ringing is pulsing against the outside walls of it

trying to get inside

I cannot hide

Then the ringing just stops

it's stops

Incoming call is dropped and rational thinking has lost.

[kiisuuumii]

Kaveh Akbar, from "An Apology," in Calling a Wolf a Wolf

[smiff-spike]

Poem for, Smiff-Spike Danger

[sorunort]

now it's up to you

*makes you imagine the following notes of For Good after reading that*

[ladyhawke]

CHARLIE VICKERS on finding out he was playing Sauron at The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. August 2024.