#does this count as a poem???

[n0body-0dysseus]

Look at me

Look upon this mirror and see,

I am a reflection of your flaws,

A shadow you created only seen when your light is upon it

Look

At

Me

Do not give your hatred my name,

for it was yours to begin with

You have spawned an evil,

Your venom my blood

I have become you,

And you think it's my fault

[lonesome-dreamsss]

his handprint may be burned into your skin but it's still the gentlest touch you've ever received.

[mellosdrawings]

Content warning, please mind the tags.

"I would've given them to you if I only knew."

"I can't tell what I want anymore."

"Your wings don't fit on my back."

"Their weight is dragging me down."

"I've given you my pain yet I feel no joy."

"I've stolen your joy yet I feel only pain."

"What do I have to do to make it ll stop?"

"I can't tell what I want anymore."

[PREV] - [NEXT] - [MASTERLIST]

[lover-of-mine]

[basilpaste]

& he forgives you dogs are like that so loyal dead dogs are just happy you're here Let Dead Dogs Lie, Silas Denver Melvin (from Grit)

〔You grit your teeth so hard that they shatter into fangs.〕

[pogbur]

theres something poetic about being young and picking up the little yellow dandelions and calling them flowers. and every single time an adult says no thats a weed. don't give it to me thats not a flower thats a weed. its ugly and its bad because of what we call it. so you stop picking them. you stop putting them behind you ear or tying the stems together. nobody likes weeds anyways, right?

[cult-of-the-eye]

Thinking about the relationship between a dog and a wolf...does a dog ever think about how in a different universe it too could be howling beneath the moon, running free, with corpses between its jaws? Does it think of that and find the open sky is too cold? Or does it yearn for a chill setting deep into its bones? Does the wolf's hind legs ever tire of running? Or does it sleep peacefully knowing it would prefer pain over shackles any day? Do they ever lock eyes knowing they've come closer to divinity than any of us would ever know?

[steelycunt]

that lancali girl who keeps popping up on my social media talking about what a successful poetic writer she is and then she shares something she’s written and every time with no exception it is one of the worst most embarrassing pieces of literature ive ever read like the cringiest purple prose you can imagine and everyone in the comments is talking about how it’s history-making and the most be beautiful thing they’ve ever read..and yes i do blame taylor swift for this

[ellessdee]

ode to the midwest / ellessdee

[n0body-0dysseus]

And suddenly I am an ocean in a jar, overflowing with emotions that threaten to shatter the glass. Yet I hold. I hold till it fades, until every last drop has drained dry and I can breathe. Eventually the salt in the water will eat my glass away, and I'll spill in waves to wash upon your feet. I can't help but worry, however, that you will be brave enough to venture into my depths. I worry that I would swallow you whole and trap you beneath the undertow. So I hold, awaiting for the glass to fill once again.

[brightdeadthing]

– 25/01/2025 | g.r. | (x)

[theflowersandthebeees]

i feel like

A sad little duck

Except if I were a duck

I would not be so sad

Because I could quack

And bird loaf

And revel in my privlage

What was I saying again?

-adam

[snazzyladreal]

wrote this from Bandee’s perspective a couple months ago, and think it’s an alright time to share it

I like to think that Bandana Dee takes loyalty and promises very seriously, part of why they don’t like and don’t trust others like Marx, Magolor, Susie, etc. to the same extent that Kirby does. They don’t like broken trust when Bandee themselves would put their life on the line for the people and creatures he cares about. It’s a selfless kind of love, where if it comes too it Bandee would rather be the one getting hurt then any of their tougher friends and family.

Sorry for the rambling it’s past 1am

[forkpigeon3146]

not rlly poetry but i love how much im able to love

i love my friends so much that like, im genuinely struggling to find the right words right now bc it feels like nothing i write will amount to the love i feel for them

and yeah sometimes i give my love to the wrong people who dont deserve it, but i think thats the beauty in it, because no matter how much love i give out, there will always be more to spill from my bleeding heart made of glass (its 3am i cant fight off the poetry mind)

i have so much love and i hope i see the day where i can finally write the words down correctly

[bumblebeerror]

I scroll tumblr. I see a blog that says freaks DNI. They are some flavor of gay or disabled or mentally ill.

their pinned post says rapists and pedos and abusers and addicts should die, because they’re horrible horrible people who hurt others, who can never be better, who are clearly unsalvageable. They brag about suicide baiting people they do not like.

they reblog posts about how censorship is good, actually, because it stops books like Huckleberry Finn or satire essays like “A Modest Proposal” being shown to school kids, because they’re problematic. They see no value in the context.

They talk with their friends about which shows and media don’t contain any dark or disturbing themes, or which aren’t written by bigoted people. They remind their followers that a media is problematic and that the type of bigot it is written by deserves to die, too.

They feel forced to admit the faults of a media every time they post about it, because what if someone thinks THEY are a bigot? Because bigots don’t deserve to live.

And I think about how a chronically ill, disabled president, Franklin D Roosevelt, was a supporter of the eugenics movement before World War 2.

[soupthatistohot]

I wrote a poem from chuuya's pov!!

(I suck at titling so don't judge this)

O grantors of dark disgrace I feel like I’ve spent my life licking my wounds, ripping open stitches before they get to heal.

Destruction runs through my veins, lifeblood, I unleash it. Maybe one day it’ll kill me. Maybe I don’t care.

You always bring me back from the brink, breathe life back into this body. This trust we have, it’s fickle yet firm, it continues to pulse despite everything.

And you say “humans are hypocrites,” well, then we must be the most humanlike monsters to have ever lived.