#i blame the poetry

[elialys]

Beneath my hands your small breasts are the upturned bellies of breathing fallen sparrow. [x]

ANNA TORV & ALEX WOLFF as Charmian Clift & Leonard Cohen in So Long, Marianne

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

whenever dan and phil say words i remember misha collins coming out as straight and think, maybe if we’re really good, that could be dnp too 🙏

[hum-suffer]

I sometimes think about Shri Ram. I think how his mother titled his chin up to see his smudged tilak.

I sometimes think about Shri Ram. I think how his father taught him their ancestry and how his hands travelled in a path of molten sun rays— like gold.

I sometimes think about Shri Ram. How his Kekayi Maa taught him all about flowers and colours. How his Sumitra Maa taught him all the games she knew.

I sometimes think about Shri Ram. How his eyes welled up when he scraped his knee and how he hissed when his mother cleaned his wounds.

I sometimes think about Shri Ram. How he copied the way his father walked with the reverence of a child with rose coloured world.

I sometimes think about Shri Ram. How his Kekayi Maa danced with him on his birthday, their hair open and done in the same styles. How he sneakily sold his paintings to buy his Sumitra Maa a pair of studs for her birthday.

I sometimes think about Shri Ram. How he was suddenly the eldest. How his father passed the baton unto him and how scorching was the heat of responsibility of being the son of the Sun descendants.

I sometimes think about Ram. A child who outgrew the lap he found solace in. A man who only had memories for guidance.

[flum3n]

a small detail i appreciate in the pjo series is that when clarisse was fighting percy, he was cut and he bled. they even included her line about how the only consequences for maiming him would be loss of desert privileges. there are some things i think the show is going to tone down (eg. the hellhound being cut in favour of annabeth pushing percy into the water, genius) but i think it's important that there are moments that make clear the physical and emotional pain these kids go through as part of their daily existence. after all, if we find it uncomfortable to watch sometimes, what does that say about the gods who have watched their children suffer and die at a distance for centuries?

[gibuckaroo]

achilles and patroclus; he is half of my soul as the poets say.

[original text in post: When you took Patroclus from Achilles— is this what he felt? When he saw him lifeless and pale and unmoving in another soldier's arms as they delivered the very reason he was here on earth—did he feel the ground move from under him? Did he feel time cease? Did he feel the way I do now? Out of breath, out of life, out of time, out of love. When you took his person, did he also want to dig a hell of his own?]

[eclipselunarchaos]

The duality of man (me)

[rice-n-honey]

He loves me,

not like a gentle lover, petal-soft and just as sweet

He loves me,

like a hurricane of glass and grit,

tearing into me and making a home in my jagged wounds

My scars seal him in, a blanket tucking him in

I trap him in my soul, that we should be together forever

My eyes are his, and he alone leads me

Whether he is my caring shepherd or salivating wolf

I am his keeper and he is mine

I love him,

like a man in the desert loves his poisoned chalice

I love him,

like I could never stop

Insp. by e28 of Malevolent

[timblrdrake]

Why are you the way you are

silly, whimsical

End of the best haiku ever

- @candy-penrose

candy, my friend, this is beautiful but i have to give this the extremely loud incorrect buzzer

‼️🚨TOO MANY SYLLABLES🚨‼️

[haveyoureadthispoem-poll]

"I put them on—it suddenly becomes clear; / I can see the very tips of things! / And read fine print by the dim-lit window / Just like in my youth."

Read it here | Reblog for a larger sample size!

[medicineteeth]

I know you didn’t mean to not notice the abuse.

You say it almost every time we talk,

“If only you had told me.”

That would’ve helped,

But a little girl isn’t supposed to be so good at hiding her wounds.

If only you had noticed.

I know you didn’t mean to,

But why is it my fault

For “hiding things so well.”

Dear god,

I didn’t even know what I was doing.

I don’t want to be angry,

I know you didn’t mean to,

But mom,

It is not my fault

For being a scared little girl,

With no one she can trust.

[epiphanydusk]

sometimes I’ll hold on to all my anger and fury because it’s my only remnant of everything we had, maybe some part of me wants to hate you more than I want to forget.

[sanddollarpoems]

Raising Bitterness

We only had the generation before us

to show us their broken way.

Parents and guardians who believed

that stuffing their feelings down

and angrily crushing our spirits,

was the way to make it through.

Our example was a generation

Who touted ideas of "free love,"

but only knew how to love themselves.

And I pray every day that I don't end up

to be anything like my parents.

My dad always makes the same excuse,

that they did the best that they knew how.

And I'm sure that his statement is true,

but heaven forbid that I ever end up

anything like them.

This family trait ends with me.

[coffeexxcigarettes]

6 to 26

-

It is not beautiful,

This agony.

The illness that starts within my soul,

Pulling me from my sleep,

Clawing at my skin when I am not present-

It is not

Beautiful.

You cannot simply apologize

Because your broken bones left splinters

In their existence.

The guilt consumes me where you once did,

I can see life has not been gentle to you.

And I should feel vindicated,

I should scream that karma is lovely in all its endeavors,

For it's finally returned the price of my innocence-

Instead I feel bad for having ever existed

At all.

As if the responsibility for your sins

Rest on me.

What a good person you could have been,

Had I not hung as temptation.

Seeing you get damned was not the relief

I wanted it to be,

Rather,

It was confirmation of another life

I had ruined by my breath.

x

[primordial-archetypes2]

bought three books just now; The Iliad, a tarot guide and a poetry anthology

[heed-my-cry]

"remember when you-"

Oh no oh no oh no no no Im 11 again, sitting in my bathtub the white lights shining down over me as red hot tears slither down my cheeks

Im 11 again, and i hate myself because im a horrible person, always have been always will be.

Its like one of those universal truths at least it was to a girl who had only been around the sun 11 times It still is, because every time you bring it up im reminded. theres only so many times you can hammer it into my brain and expect me to heal just like before.

I think that every ounce of pain i caused you, i deserve amplified by 10. because nobody is punishing me so im seeking revenge from myself.

ive never been good at coping with other things, how am i supposed to cope with myself? How do i cope with the fact that i still think im horrible?

I was a child, telling myself that i deserved so many horrific things. I was a child, telling myself that i was awful and that i wasn't worthy of love in any way.

How do you grow from that kind of self hatred? The kind where you look in the mirror and see a hideous beast, the kind of beast that should be killed for what it has done.

Where do you go from that? how do i uncurl from this ball of self hatred and learn to stand again? How do i even begin to learn how to walk?

I feel so old and so young, always pulling and pushing with myself, trying to figure out how to love that horrible beast that is now a mere sheep how do i stop seeing it as the monster it once was?

Im 11 and im a horrible person, i always have been, always will be.

[ashersbraincell]

I ought to grow horns

A permanent mark of shame

For all the pain I’ve caused

To drive anyone with the intention of getting close away

A warning sign

A mark of shame

Horns are cool, maybe

Maybe I could learn to cynically „own” them

Revel in the fear respect they’d instill

Illusion safety in the enclosure I build for myself

While trapping a lonely

scared internalised scapegoat child