A deep disquiet consumes me
so vast, like unarriving autumn
trees tremor with unfilled promise
yet summer burns them dry;
a barrenness unnoticed
empty space between
stretching, hollow-like void
untouched by trace of green;
filled with rage and bitter anguish
for a rain seldom seen
soils weep for wish of rapture
silver fog rolling in;
I see nothing no more
wool of despair pulled over my eyes
for the sake of existence, I exist
breathing flame into strife;
the river moved into another body
poured itself out of my hands
hiding, preserving from agony
before disquiet turns to sand.
- Tamarind Fall; disquietude.
10 notes
·
View notes
Oh dear,
May I hold your hand?
May I introduce you to the fruits of my flesh?
The thoughts of you
have reduced my heart to an
orange: peel away
the miserable distance
that keeps me away from you,
hold my naked heart in your bare hands, devour me: all teeth and fingers.
On days you aren't around to touch me,
your absence holds me,
presses against me
like bruises on peaches.
I keep picking out hours like
seeds from the watermelon waiting
for you to return.
I think if angels were to crack open my head, all they'd find is
honey and sunflower and
thoughts of you,
you,
you.
I blend in you like
salt in sea at the splash of
your tongue with mine.
You hold me
and
I shatter
into a riot
of spring.
Nayha Y. "Ode to Fall." A Collaboration With @blackpenwritings
115 notes
·
View notes
-Bansini
Like reptiles, their hands wrap themselves around your throat and grip it tight, suffocating every word that had the courage to breathe on your tongue.
From the day you were born, you’ve been taught to shut up, not share your opinions, and to listen to the rest of the world screaming in your head.
Maybe it’s time to carve your words into knives, and rip their hands apart before you rip your own tongue out in fear of forgetting how to use it at all.
75 notes
·
View notes
Favorite blogs?
@inkypetals @teacup13 @inkbyaporia @blackpenwritings @rhapsodic-gem
Amazing artists.
9 notes
·
View notes
What poem book would you give recommend to someone who wants to write poetry?
Hi!
Milk and Honey by Rupi Kaur – I haven’t read it, but I’ve heard very good things about it! Other than that I haven’t read much poetry, outside of poets here on Tumblr (some of whom do have chapbooks). I’ll give you a list of recs (the ones with a * by their url have chapbooks that I know of)!
@poetbitesback@inkskinned@inkmagician*@aphelionbruise@achingchest*@latenightcornerstore*@wildfairy* (I’m fairly sure she has a chapbook)@tristamateer*@blackpenwritings*Lastly, my poetry blog ( @elysianink) may interest you.
I hope this helps! If you need anything else, please feel free to ask! - @authors-haven
19 notes
·
View notes
Get to know me
Rules: Answer the questions in a new post and tag 20 blogs you would like to get to know better. Shoutout to @darkeyes14 for tagging me! -Nickname: Yatu -Star sign: Scorpio -Height: 5'4" -Time right now: 10:25 pm -Last thing I've googled: Sketches tumblr Favourite music artists: Tyler Joseph, Alex Turner, Halsey, Melanie Martinez, Low Roar (band) -Song stuck in your head: Mrs. Potato Head-Melanie Martinez -Last movie watched: The Attacks of 26/11 -Last TV show watched: Sherlock Season 4 episode 2 -What you're wearing now: Grey tee-shirt and black jeggings -When did you create your blog: Well, I have two so soursweet14 was 3 years ago and blackpenwritings was created in the April of 2016 -What kind of stuff do you post: I basically just repost. -Do you have any other blogs: Yes, blackpenwritings. -Why did you choose your url: It was a joke, actually. I made a rhyme that went, "I'm sour, I'm sweet, and I'm not the best person you'd meet." -Gender: Female -Favourite colour: Tardis blue (and black. Can I have two colours?) -Average hours of sleep: I'm an INTP. What is sleep? -How many blankets do you sleep with: Humans use blankets to sleep? That's strange. -Dream job: Quantum physicist -Followers: 113 @lonely-flower-child14 @ladynfreak @basiliskslayer @summertimeghost @problemabouttheproblem @intplady @artsyintp @heir-of-arbok @disorganizedmess @teacup13 @maxwelldpoetry @bcw-writes @demeraimvu @quietlyplottingmischief @my-time-on-my-ride @lookatthisdreamyyou @thewalkingpoetry @stonecoldharts @nerdyintp @rarasworldbro
7 notes
·
View notes
We’re all pieces of each other.
six word story // blackpenwritings
649 notes
·
View notes
Subsistence is curse
for weeds thriving in extreme
harsh cold, numb weather
grief bursting at the seams;
lillies move towards the sun-
away from semblance of agony
leaves fall, souls untethered
crushed by sheets of teeth;
plush undergrowth
filled with splatter
poison climbing up trees
till all is coarse scatter
lined with grease.
-Tamarind Fall
7 notes
·
View notes
Revelation of my identity
feels often as a witch-hunt
feels often as cemetery,
riddled with the dead;
stakes cropping from the ground
mistakes abound afire
revelations, buried tombstones
wilted heart, pyre;
acorns fall to the ground
urging, begging, to grow
no waters reach these lands
no promise left to glow;
they seek and I am found,
although, never truly
too dead for resurrection
too dead to ever breathe.
- Tamarind Fall; long past buried self.
10 notes
·
View notes
A world of rampage, an orchestra of chaos.
We live somewhere little voices are buried deep within the earth to mute visions of freedom.
We live somewhere bigotry oppresses unrestricted expression, hatred burns at the bottom of our throats, a yearning to be heard settles deep within our gut, like a little cinder box, struggling to be broken open.
How strange it must be to think that the world we created is the one we're afraid of, where our own ancestors fought for decades to be listened to, only for the next generations to have to watch every word they speak.
How ironic it must be to think, that a promise of Independence turned into a graveyard for perspectives, a whispered murmur of liberation trying to crawl out from beneath headstones commemorating the courage of individual thought.
Normality is an illusion we're taught with an iron rod, a compulsion to adhere to.
Normality is the conformity shoved down our throats until we can't recognize who we are.
Normality is the creation of herds of sheep, their brains torn out to hardwire that being different is wrong, that poison is the only cure to wanting to be who we are.
Until the world of rampage orchestrates a symphony of repression, until compassion becomes a liability, and we're doomed to follow till death engulfs us all.
-Tamarind Fall; Insurgence.
A little late but this blog is pro-BLM.
26 notes
·
View notes
We were built as shadows, brick by brick, with the light winding itself inside out of our chests until colour glowed into skin.
The fire shed itself, starving white light into hues, creating fingernails and nuances out of the absence of warmth.
It's probably true, maybe we were built in horizons, every city was an ode to the peace it could never revel in.
The light created us, and we moulded fractals out of it, storing its possibilities in glass lamps and burnt musings.
We crushed the embers until it dripped ink, we learned how to make it grow and it devoured everything.
Fire is just the sun unwinding itself out of wood, and we trapped it within our hands, pulling every inch of its life to harness our own languages.
We were built like shadows, and it breathed life into us. We were built into the light, and we taught it destruction.
-Tamarind Fall.
Based on the quote, 'Fire is just the sun unwinding itself from wood'.
70 notes
·
View notes
If being broken is the only way I can be beautiful, I don't want to be beautiful at all.
Tamarind Fall.
308 notes
·
View notes
You gave me a taste of what it was to be treated as a human. I have nothing left in my palms. Not words, not kindness. You took away what it meant to be feeling, until this giant hole in my chest left me rotting on my bedsheets for weeks. I've been pushing everyone away since you've been gone. Can't speak to my mother, lost faith in everyone's laments. You treated me with humanity and left me behind where I was never meant to be human. You gave me empathy, taught me to listen, made me believe that there must be people out there worth giving my life for. I did give my life in the end. Even though I always felt like I never had one to start with. I gave my life for you and you told me you never asked for it. You taught me empathy until it turned into cruelty. You taught me patience turns into resentment. You taught me that people get tired of listening to someone who treats you like a god just because you showed them a little basic human kindness. You taught me that I could give you everything and I would still be the one to blame at the end. The world is a kaleidoscope and I'm the outer paint, chipping away. These cogs and patterns are meant for someone else's life. I've only ever been meant for watching from the outside.
-Tamarind Fall.
134 notes
·
View notes
The music was already here. We brought the alphabets and decorated the universe. Placing trebles along the orbits of binary star systems, cascading crescendos around the electromagnetic fields of black holes, embellishing space on pieces of parchment, imitating the spin of time with taut strings on wood curled tight with metal knobs.
The music was already here. But then we broke it down. Twisted it into sentences and decimals. The parts we borrowed bled into paper and chemicals until they hollowed themselves and settled into the soil.
The music was already here.
The crescendos rose until the darkness got deafening, the light bleeding from its edges until it spilled into the atmosphere, piercing the clouds, spinning itself into tornadoes, creating breath, growing louder and louder until oh! The sunrise today was resounding, blanketing the horizon until the clamour brought civilisations in its wake. The rise and fall of neutron stars and supernovae turned into sheets of colour across the stars, and we were standing on the soil that borrowed symphonies from their spectrums, an unpaid debt that lasted for millennia.
How strange it is to stand where we are and wonder about the spaces between the stars, while indoctrinating illusions of hierarchy and hate.
How strange it is to believe we created the music the galaxies have roared with for billions of centuries.
How strange it is to borrow fragments of pulsars and weld them into weapons.
How strange it must be to survive, to trap the music in our chests and to capture the light.
-Tamarind Fall; The music of the spheres.
29 notes
·
View notes
I am toxic.
I love you till you bleed.
I love you till I'm so far into your head that you start seeing constellations mid-afternoon.
Flecks of black in sunflowers.
The miasma is so heavy in your heart that you wish you never learned how to love me.
I love you till you start noticing all the smoke I webbed into your skin. You start noticing all the patterns. The screaming. The apologies. You start questioning whether you ever loved me or if it was just the loneliness that drove you into my arms.
You start questioning your sanity. Never mine.
I manipulated you into liking the person I am.
I show myself off as the prey. Soft, beautiful, intelligent. Until you realise that I've been the predator all along. That there's venom on my tongue. That I'm watching your every move and I'll eat you alive every time you stagger down to my front porch, begging for forgiveness.
You say you're the toxic one. We both ask for forgiveness. We plead to each other until the other one breaks. Until we decide that yes, it must've been your fault all along.
We push each other to the edge of the cliff. We make misery our weapon. Until one of us jumps off the edge. And the other one weaves them into their list of ex lovers who abandoned them in the end.
-Tamarind Fall; When we turned love into a game, knowing that we're both going to lose.
364 notes
·
View notes
You're partially stars and partially sunlight. I can find entire days in your heartbeat.
Tamarind Fall.
88 notes
·
View notes