#inkstay

[unmondefou]

Seven years later, we came back and it was as if we had just gotten off the phone. You've never felt so far away.

--- h.harouche

[ginadope]

Feasting on anger In the end, the hand that fed us was soft Beaming, no doubt sincere!

Anger in the rotting belly Honeyed decay Without an enemy The creature is left with itself The scariest of them all

[sparkandashes]

[heartofmuse]

Love always leaves a mark. Sometimes it is a beautiful tattoo, sometimes a scar, and sometimes a wide open wound.

e.v.e.

[creatingnikki]

another year is ending and I want you to know that it is okay if you:

have not healed from the things that happened/did not happen from six months ago. just because the year is ending it does not mean your grief is too.

don't have any "fun" NYE plans to ring in the new year. this life is yours to live across days and months and years, and you can celebrate days other than the ones heavily marketed and shoved down your throat to shroud you in severe FOMO.

have no resolutions or goals for the new year laid out in elaborate lists or shared on social media or with your friends. you are braving through this life trying to do your best every day and hold the fort and so of course you know, deep down you know what is needed from you for you going forward and of course you are going to work in that direction. good luck love.

have not become a "better" version of yourself by any of the tangible or conventional measures. that kind of bettering is mostly to serve others, not yourself.

are not happy with yourself/your life as it is now. you're a work-in-progress, remember? and if you're progressing in a direction you do not like, then it's time to change the blueprints and the strategy.

take time off social media around this time to protect your mental health and whatever little joy you have managed to keep.

don't want to spend too much time reflecting on how this past year went and doing various forms of 2023-wrapped. again, it's your life. you can also revisit this year in memories and pictures and feelings whenever you'd like. it's not like you don't still visit 2012, 2017, and 2022, right?

feel disconnected from your friends, family, lover. I know this is "ideally" a time to be celebrated with your loved ones. but life is not ideal, is it? it's just life. and if right now you are not feeling the love, the joy, or just don't have the headspace or social energy to engage , that's alright.

are finding comfort in simpler things like a TV show from the 90s or that book you first read at sixteen or that slice of strawberry cake or a random post like this you come across.

don't feel hopeful, encouraged, or excited for the new year. given everything that's happened in the last couple of years, on the macro and micro level, it's only natural for you to feel weary as well as wary. when the good things happen, when the healing happens, when things begin working in your favour over time, you will automatically feel all those things. it's okay if until then you choose to be neutral.

[n-ehpamoi]

Tell me, after all the pain love has wrought am I endearingly brave or unendingly foolish,

That I choose to love again

[elycwinters]

Dream of me you say as your lips softly brush mine. In dreams I know love.

~ Ely C. Winters. [24/10/24]

[beforeyearning]

january snow.

And in the midst of January snow, the type that sticks to the ground

& your ribs—your desire to seek warmth reaches a fever pitch.

You have an excuse to abandon your shame at the door, and open

your mouth and say ‘I want. I want. I want’, and if you’re lucky you’ll

hear ‘I’ll give. I’ll give. I’ll give’, but you’re foreordained to hear firsthand

the yearning echo throughout an empty house. But you’ll put on some

coffee and cozy up in bed, shifting aimlessly through doomscrolling,

sleeping, and sipping on black coffee that spills out the big gaping

wound in the middle of your chest. You blot it & change your shirt

for the comfiest hoodie you have. You’re secretly terrified that there’s

a big tattoo on the middle of your forehead that gives you away to everyone,

but you’re more scared of the mirror and the wasted potential in the reflection

to go check on it. So, you make yourself as little possible with the heaviest heart,

it’s a wonder you aren’t pinned to the ground from all your wants. Lost in the blur

of whitish gray world outside your window, you watch the dance of the snowflakes

and find a smidgen of peace. You’re an excellent overthinker, you make something

from nothing—so you’ll carry this peace for days. Maybe even through the month.

[reachingperihelion]

the earth wrote stories of you.

your hand in mine, our lips together, my hands on your waist, sliding down your thighs in reverent awe, breath passing between us full of love and lust and hope and forever.

you were written for me, and i'll hold you tightly in gratitude.

[almaaspoetry]

In English we say, "I miss you," but in poetry we say, "Your absence is a hollow ache, a silent echo that reverberates through my days and nights."

I walk through the spaces we once shared, and the world seems dimmer, the colors muted. The laughter that once filled the air is now a distant memory, a ghostly whisper that lingers at the edge of my consciousness. The scent of your presence still haunts the rooms, a lingering trace that clings to the corners, refusing to be forgotten.

The days stretch long and empty, each moment a reminder of your absence. The sun rises and sets, casting long shadows that stretch across the floor, mimicking the void within me. The stars at night seem dimmer, their light no longer enough to chase away the darkness that has settled in my heart.

I find myself searching for you in the little things: in the way the wind rustles the leaves, in the quiet moments of dawn, in the fleeting smiles of strangers. Each reminder a bittersweet pang, a reminder of what was and what is no longer.

Your absence is a melody that plays softly in the background of my life, a tune that I cannot escape. It is the silence that follows a symphony, the quiet that lingers after the music has stopped. It is a weight that I carry with me, a part of me that is missing, a piece of my soul that is incomplete.

In poetry, I say, "You are the unspoken verse, the missing line in my song, the empty space in my heart that only you can fill."

[anastasiasyah]

You have loved so much that your heart swelled like the sun. It's not your fault the people you loved hurt you because they only know darkness.

— 10/26/24 by anastasiasyah

[unmondefou]

I will not dare ask for more,

nor will I need more,

because all my needs

are found in your presence

stay with me

--- h.harouche

[ginadope]

rivers and poems

A spiral of duality - your warm side, it has Prepared for you a glass Of ache and gold

I am not much A single drop of softness I dare not greet you in dreams, I Hide my thoughts from myself

And I stand before you Barefoot in the sand A strange wound and a howl Born of beauty Their poetry simple - your fear I will carry away

[sparkandashes]

Do you carry a book with you, no matter where you go? Perhaps it remains unopened, its pages untouched by your fingers, yet its presence is a silent companion. There’s a certain solace in knowing it’s there, a reminder of the worlds it holds within, waiting for you. There’s so much comfort in the familiar weight of its binding. Is it just me?

@sparkandashes

[heartofmuse]

Why do I miss you when I shouldn't? What have you done to my soul that I think of you like this? Have you enchanted me without me knowing? Was it your soulful eyes or perhaps that melancholic smile? I'm drawn to you and I can't explain it. Do you think of me too and that's what I am feeling?

e.v.e.

[sedehaven]

Sweet Olive

Tucked in the pages of Austen, a green-scent sprig of sweet olive -- frilly white flowers and waxy leaves, curling and emerald.

I don't remember your face, these two decades later, but I do recall the gleam of amber sun in your hair as you held

it to my nose. As you plucked another sprig from the bush outside our classroom, and laid it behind the shell

of my blushing ear.