#excerpt from a book i'll never finish

[thesewordsaremymusings]

“I want to take my heart off my sleeve, it has grown too heavy.”

-m.n.

[beforeyearning]

the yearning has to be unique. click for better quality, transcript under cut.

THE YEARNING HAS TO BE UNIQUE, otherwise, it would be the rantings of another madman, a lonely one at that,

it needs to be elevated to an artform—the intricacies of which is lost on me.

bonded to the whims of wants, even with another mouth & stomach, the

yearning cannot be fed in any meaningful manner. where there is light,

there is dark and in the dark, there is promise of light, so now you know

where it is i reside. in your eyes, there’s a discrepancy between the ‘you’

in the mirror & the ‘you’ in these poems, and you wonder what lives in

the distance between, apart a million poems, if it’s a walkable route, i’m

contractually obligated to tell you there is no difference, but you wouldn’t

believe me. you're more of a look-out-the-window kind of person to see

if it’s raining instead of the weather app on your phone. you deal only in

absolutes, and facts you can ascertain to. at the end of whatever this is,

there’ll be two bodies, enough love to displace an ocean with, the

ownership percentages will be up for debate—the mechanism in which

the way i become religious when sunlight kisses your skin, is not.

[lost-in-time-marie]

The Story of a Great Love

I finished another story today. A love story. Of course, as if I would want a different story now all these years later. This story wrenches my heart in two and twists the pieces for good measure. I think the ending was meant to be happy, but it felt like a tragedy. Everyone gets their happy ending, their other to spend their life with. Save for the devil, who loses a lifetime with the family he fought so hard to make. And sure, his love finds the devil again in the end, in the afterlife they spend the rest of time together. And maybe that seemed like a fair deal to them, eternity in exchange for one human lifetime, practically a blip on the radar when compared to the promise of forever. But even god got to have a life, got to raise a son, got to be there for him. But not the devil.

I can’t help but see myself as his love, raising his daughter all alone. She’s angry she was abandoned by her father, she feels sorry for me when I tell her how much her father loved us both and sacrificed so much. I imagine all the cold and lonely nights, the arguments, the milestones, hard decisions and celebrations. I can feel her ache, deep and cutting as she just misses him, as she begins to forget the way he smells and the way he feels. And I couldn’t help but silently scream to myself at the agony of it all, the unfairness. Why is it that all the great loves are tragedies? Why is it that great loves don’t exist anymore? Why don’t people die for each other anymore? Live and suffer and sacrifice for each other? I can’t imagine what it’s like to be loved like that. There’s no room for it in the world anymore, we razed all the land and filled up every square inch with everything and anything else, and now the world is too grey for something so colorful, so alive anymore.

I wonder if it’s possible to lose a piece of your soul, to be born without it. To be born with a longing so powerful it cuts to the core, the rot of loneliness already embedded in you, as real in your flesh as a birthmark. How can I be the only one feeling all this overwhelming and beautiful and cursed love?

~K.

[myselfishworld]

There are some form of love that hurtfull to do, but I have to. And sometimes I feel addicted to it.

H.K on Time Doesn’t Heal

[thegirlwholovesliterature]

I am a refugee, seeking shelter in your arms. Will you offer my fragile heart a sanctuary to return to, time and time again, when I can no longer recognise myself?

- Excerpt from a story I no longer share #8 // Do your arms feel the heavy emptiness too? // krupapatelreads on Instagram

[shittonofapples]

A week has passed since I locked away my heart.

I already feel lighter, with their memories no longer floating above my head like the ghosts of balloons which were popped long ago.

They are always with me.

My first girl, J, with her ivory black hair and her full eyes, her melodic voice and her tinkering chuckle.

My first love, P, with his wide smile and friendly face, his love for making everything a game and racing everywhere.

My first orgasm, A, with his long golden hair and piercings everywhere, his rock music and his slow way to talk.

My first coincidence, R, with his honey curls, green eyes and sweet smile, his taste so similar to mine and his everlasting way of critiquing everything in a film.

My first crush after finding myself, An, with her redish curly locks, her daring dark eyes and her hourglass figure... her devilish smirk, her love for chaos and for loving almost everything I love.

I carry them with me wherever I go, my beloved almosts and yet nevers, the people who took a piece of my heart with them and whom I wonder if they think of me once in a while. I wish for them the entirety of the happiness they desire, I wish for them to be fulfilled and healed and surrounded by love... I wished I could have been one of the people there to love them, and I wonder if in other universes I am. I wonder if its true, what is said in Spider-Man! If there are infinite versions of me and how many of those versions get to be by their sides.

This version, nevertheless, is... just here. Meeting people I love endlessly and losing them all the same. Destined to be alone.

Art by: @reindrawsapples on IG

[tinybabybunny]

I find myself always intrigued by things larger than me by quite a hundred times. It is formidable, yet I like the feeling of being smol and vulnerable but powerful enough to make a giant bow down to me on all its fours. It could swallow me alive. Crush me within its fist. Somewhere I want it to be pertrified of how I, a creature equivalent as an ant is to a human, stand my ground. To devour me you have to fear me first.

-Sarjika

[mrly]

you had an accent hard to understand and love that only found it’s way to the line between two things. i never blamed you for hugging me with torn hands. i knew what your arms were longing to say - stay here, forever, the house is yours and the world will always be there, spinning. stay here, with me and do not grow out of my embrace. stay here and i will learn to love you the right way, all over again

[hazeltoheraugustus]

I drink back my poison words

That cut deeper than any sword

I hit myself again and again

As the pain melts and flows

My pillow absorbs the hot tears

Leaking down my eyes

Night brings my worst fears

All my demons come to life

Cut, cut and cut

That's all I ever do

Red oozes out

It sings my song of doom

Keep torturing me like this

And I become your slave

The blood becomes my water

As I swim in pain

The familiar warmth feels good

The sting feels like home

The harm continues

As the night grows cold

~shubhaa

[aquietmorningrambles]

meeting you (but not long enough)

Can't seem to express how grateful I am to have him by my side The constant reassurance that he's giving me, about myself, my study, our relationship and everything in between How easy he makes it seems, to always be there for me, emotionally and physically, whenever I need him And how sure he is, of me, of every little flaw that I like to nitpick The constant mental battle that I like to have when I'm being particularly insecure or needy or exhausted, it all went away as easy as it came A constant tide, ebbing gently Rewiring the mess that's my head, flowing neatly Oh how I wish being with you is not an occasion, where planning is involved, and promises, and tickets I wish it's as easy as opening a door and saying "I'm home"

[thesewordsaremymusings]

“And perhaps this October, I’ll find myself a lover who meets me where the spirit meets the bones.”

-m.n. | “I won’t be able to look away.”

[stephanothebard]

Oneirism schisms:

You walk in beauty, where shadows lie, where dreams come to rest once they die, where sunsets go backwards on a placid beach, the ocean picked at the seam, stich by stich.

Still constant is the ticking of a clock which will not stop, incessant stammer of the metronome of thought, reaped, still ripe, like crops, piling high up top and set alight into an incandescent blaze, smoking out incense, nonsense, coating the mind in a cancerous haze.

Beneath your feet you crush the glass-shard sand in which you stand as I cough up from the fumes, spewing up my doom onto waters which writhe in opaque hues, black and blue, but there’s no such thing as blue. Thus I hurl myself onto you.

You're monolithic, you're miniscule, you're weakness, you're might, you're marble, you're crystal, you're flesh, an otherwordly sight, reflecting refracted light from ghastly stars in the sky, and in the blink of an eye, another day flashes by as I lay sideways grasping your thigh.

Looking up again, up into your jaded eyes, why worry about the ending when it's just begun? One thread is cut, another is spun, another trip around the sun, twice repeated, now a third, fuck you, I'm not done.

And as everything falls down, dilapidated, time dilated, stretched out, served and plated, the sand crumbling below, sliding into the parting tide, like Moses, I'll strike the rock 'til a river flows, I have nothing to hide.

In this oneiric land in which you wander as it is torn asunder, ripped apart, where reality borders nothing and nothing leaves no mark, I'll follow you, until I break my bones or break my heart.

Little something I wrote on a late night while still very loopy from sleep deprivation, hope it's enjoyable! Still new to Tumblr so taking any recommendations.

[lost-in-time-marie]

It was a grey and overcast afternoon, as I sat outside breathing the cool, humid air, ripe with the heavy rain soon to come, and I thought to myself, there is still pain in my heart, but for the first time, I feel like I can live with it.

~K.

[myselfishworld]

This is not my first time of getting drunk, even this is my first time of alcohol. She already had me perfect hangover, for years.

H.K on Time Doesn't Heal

[thegirlwholovesliterature]

September’s chill breathes life into their shared delight. / A season of celebration that deepens my night. / Their birthdays collide in a month I dread, / Each joyful post a dagger to what we once had. / The calendar turns, and with it, I see— / Their new beginning while my heart bleeds silently. / In the soft, cruel glow of autumn’s descent, / I am haunted by memories and a love that’s spent.

- Excerpt from a story that I no longer share #7 // Will you think about me on that day? Or will someone else get your attention like always? // krupapatelreads on instagram

[shittonofapples]

I hit him in the hand, a warning from me to both of us. I was not feeling happy with that friendship, and he was making a move on her, and my friend had already rejected him. I should've just watched, but the hit was because I shouldn't just watch. I should've moved on. I should've left. I should've looked away. How could I have looked away when she... she and I.. but we are nothing. I should not be anything to her anymore, why do I keep seeing her as a damsel in distress when she brought him onto herself? He is HER problem, I shouldn't put myself between her and her consequences. Stop protecting her from herself. Especially when, afterwards, she sides with him and insults my ways to cope.

And, now, ladies and gentlemen... I give you "THE DOG THAT DOES NOT BITE ANYMORE"

DO NOT TELL ME I AM CHILDISH for wanting to disappear from his radar, from where he aims. DO NOT TELL ME I AM BEING IMMATURE OR DUMB for wanting to flee from a problem you created with your desires and backing up. You brought this man to your entree and I was dumb enough to let you put me in between. I am dumb, yes, but not yours to use. I am childish, maybe, but you have no right to call me so when you are as immature as me. I am a coward, yes, but not more than you that backs away after creating the chaos you so crave. I will stay away, I will now back the fuck up, let you deal with every monster you arouse and I will not intervene when you want an out. Scratch yourself with your own nails now, cause me? Honey, I am no longer your escape route. I am a child, a dumb little dog that will no longer bite, will not growl and will not protect your bloody house. Let them all in, sure, let them be inside your home, just leave me out of the mess when they come to steal even your garden gnome.