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if weird was a kink i’d be the biggest freak
on our picnic
I feel imperfect
loudly
deafeningly
I dig my fingers into
my unfiltered face,
stretch the skin
over my knees
like we did with our tshirts
in middle school
kinda ugly
so I tell good jokes
he laughs
we skate off into the sunset
fuck instagram
.
#poetry#writers on tumblr#spilled words#idk guys#writerscreed#spilled ink#poeticstories#spilled thoughts#twcpoetry#spilled poetry#poetry reblog#poets on tumblr#Weird poetry#skate poetry#face ripping off poetry
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you have kind eyes, soft hands, a gentle heart,
a cruel gift in a world that devours.
every act of kindness becomes your poison,
each beautiful word, a stone upon your grave.
cursed is the light that seeps from your soul;
i deserve this—
a sick joke crafted by a god who turned away.
left to endure the unholy pangs of holy sorrows,
a hollow shell craving release.
what kind of deity creates a monster
and laughs while the world feasts on its flesh?
i deserve this.
halo
#original poem#my poem#my post#black art#dead poets society#poetic#poetry#poets corner#the tortured poets department#writeblr#artists on tumblr#wnq quote#wnq poetry#wnq writers#twcpoetry#twcprose#prose#spilled poetry#spilled ink#smittenbypoetry#poetry reblog#poetscreed#poetselixir#poetblr#poets on tumblr#writers on tumblr#writbelr#spilled words#dark academia#literature
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To Taste the Rain and Free the Soul
why do we
run from it
curse it's
presence
give all
the glory
to sunshine
I remember
one day in
the summer
of my youth
she made me
stop the car
ran out into
the warm rain
with her arms
upraised in
in giddy
celebration
I followed
giving in
to the glory
of the moment
feeling more
freedom than
ever before
#a story to tell#bvr#writerscreed#spilled ink#poeticstories#spilled words#writtenconsiderations#spilled thoughts#spilled ink poetry#twcpoetry#spilled poetry#writers on tumblr#poetry reblog#poets on tumblr#bitsofstarglow
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HOME SHAPED HEART
I am making a home,
Within myself.
And it is tough.
As I grow older
And winters become rough.
I worry if the foundation,
Is strong enough
To hold up
All versions of
me, from all pasts
If my walls should be
stark and high.
Or have
More windows
To look at the stars
The night casts.
If i will be able to
Withstand impending rain.
Now that I know,
Joy is a momentary flash flood,
Upon a barren desert of pain.
I acknowledge the worry
Hold it close
And tell it to rest.
I want my home
Within me
To be a sanctuary.
A place to rest
When I return
From adventures of life.
I want to walk from room to room
And in the vaults of my heart
With a song upon my lips
For the beauty
That I may find.
I want to welcome
Reluctant love,
Enough,
To feel, finally at home.
I need to clear out spaces
For gardens with butterflies.
I want a waterfall of giggles
To wash away all grime.
I want a heart shaped home
With bricks, of gratitude
And a roof, of everything enough.
I will put soft warm lights
Outside the door.
The kind that make,
The lonely feel safe
From harshness of glare.
I will build my home
Inside the vales of gentleness,
Where the breeze,
On a warm summer afternoon
Will be much needed
Respite for my friends.
I have to be gone for long.
Into the frightening silent,
wilderness of self.
To pick out pieces of beauty
From dangerous woods.
To gather and to rake.
To draw out a map
And a plan for
My home shaped heart,
To house all my goods.
I have the strength,
I have to remind myself
As I pave the path back
To myself.
I will make my home
Within myself,
From silver curtains
Of full moon nights.
And the quietning that comes
From a dawn about to break in love.
Even if takes all my will and
The milk of my bones.
It is the hardest thing
To make,
I know,
Because I have to do it alone.
.
.
.
.
#poets on tumblr#poem#poetry#writers on tumblr#spilled thoughts#writers#prose#prose poem#quotes#love#instawriters#writer support#writer block#writer blog#writercreed#writing#writeblr#poetic#writers and poets#poetry reblog#poetry corner#dead poets society#my post#poesia#publishing#i wrote a poem#writerscommunity#poetrycommunity#prose poetry
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People around me keep getting younger. I find my way back on the rocks. Listening to the water
thinking about cows.
Last night I left
Without moving my body—
Last night I left without moving my body
And she asked me where I went
I’m on the rocks,
There is a beautiful man next to me
And I can’t help but to wonder
How I got so lucky
But maybe I always have been
There is love everywhere
It’s out there for you
It’s out there for me
It’s where people don’t mind your silence
It’s in the dog who made you hesitate going out the door
It’s in patience
It’s in listening ears
You’ll see it between the two geese
swimming together, communicating
to the one across the pond
It’s in questions
It’s in allowing youthful connection
It’s in a willingness to learn
It’s in the ones who ask you were you��ve gone
Where you’ve been
and how it was
#journal#7/14/24#12:42pm#shabbona lake#about where love resides#love#poem#poetry#writing#poets on tumblr#j.b. cohen#mine#original poem#writers on tumblr#poetry reblog#spilled words#spilled thoughts#spilled ink#word vomit#words words words#words#train of thought#thinking#thoughts#geese#dogs#listening#patience#journaling#quick thoughts
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#poesia#poetry#poets on tumblr#writers and poets#poem#original poem#poetic#poems and poetry#love poetry#love poem#love poesia#poetrycommunity#poems#poesía#poesia en español#poetry reblog#poema original#poesia poema#escritora#escritos#una chica escribiendo#pensamientos#pensamiento#sentimientos#reflexiones#frases#vida
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he stirred a long-lost spark to life
with a smile and softened touch
comfort, without the world of advice
that feels like far too much
#poetry#spilled ink#poetry love#spark#writerscreed#twcpoetry#poeticstories#poetry reblog#too much#not enough#new love#comfort
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time is space between grieving and happiness and the clock ticking means you’re healing, doesn’t it? maybe you will ignite yourself just for others to feel the heat. you will burn out long before they will notice and your ashes will disappear without making any sound. maybe the sea will call your name again, almost as if to say not yet my dear, there's so much more. maybe then you will finally stop volunteering for swan-diving down the rabbit hole into the aching depths of your existence. you survived everything that’s happened and whatever tried to kill you failed. so be proud of yourself instead of regretting the alleys you once wandered to kill your sadness. time will pass either way.
-e.f
#excerpts of a book i will never write#original poem#poems and quotes#poetry#prose poetry#spilled poetry#poetic#love poem#poems on tumblr#sad poetry#612#poetry reblog#teenage poetry#spilled ink#spilled words#author#writing#writer#writerscreed
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Hi guys,
I just started a poetry reblog site to share works of other poets. It’s called @allaboutpoetries
Do share your works under the tag #allaboutpoetries. If you are poet, I’d love to read your words.
I’ll also be sharing poetry prompts on a monthly basis. Do follow :)
#writerscreed#spilled thoughts#spilled ink#spilled words#writers on tumblr#poetryportal#spilled#spilled writing#spilled poetry#poetry reblog#illustrans#allaboutpoetries
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Comes over me so swiftly
I haven't time to think.
I know I swore It off
but I really need a drink.
These decisions that I'm making
they ain't making any sense
but my hands start to shaking
when i speak of you in past tense
theres no one here to talk to
when im sitting all alone
I'd rather smash this bottle
and pick up a phone
but we need no melodrama
no audience to critique
when we both were born of trauma
Lovers sharing a karmic link
As im drowning in these feelings
I can feel you in my bones
Hell may not heal me
but even Hades needs a home.
-kirkshiresloss-
//Persephone//
@fadedawaywiththebreeze
#lostcore#dark academia#writerscreed#poeticstories#poetryportal#original writing#writtenundertheinfluence#writersconnection#missing you#lovecore#imperialreblogs#poetry reblog#goneahead reblog#poetrycommunity#deadwatered#poetry writing#writrblrcafe#writersociety#inkstainsandheartbeats
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there’s god where we connect
I can feel it in the absence of my breath
divine
If I am grapes you are time,
we are wine
#sincerely#poetry#writers on tumblr#.#twcpoetry#spilled poetry#poetry reblog#poets on tumblr#poem#original poem
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in the arms of love, we find solace
in the face of death, we find release
for what is death to love
but a brief pause in the symphony of eternity
halo
#black art#dead poets society#my post#original poem#poetic#poetry#poets corner#the tortured poets department#writeblr#artists on tumblr#spilled ink#poetscreed#poetry reblog#love poem#poem#poetselixir#writbelr#writers on tumblr#black artist#black tumblr#romantic academia#dark academia#chaotic academia#prose#literature#lit#poets on tumblr#quotes#wnq quote#wnq poetry
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Ghostkeeper
he collects
all the artifacts
of his prior sins
stores them in
a special room
aspects of his
damaged soul
examples of his
lapses in
judgement
somehow he
finds a solution
in the process
of preservation
#a story to tell#bvr#writerscreed#poeticstories#spilled ink#spilled thoughts#spilled words#spilled ink poetry#writers on tumblr#twcpoetry#spilled poetry#recognizingthevoiceless#bitsofstarglow#poetry reblog
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I'm sorry I'm not sorry
I couldn't just be
Their stress-free
deprivation box.
Shameless thoughts
I've faded off
Because my chaos threatens
to break their safety locks.
And I'm taking off
Ignoring the fake
Aim take the safety off
And I haven't found an answer
To the pain yet
Exhausted
Writing rain checks
To the process
of my brain health
Try to get Enlightenment
Life is just
an insane train wreck
And I don't know how
to fight the shit
So I sit back
with a 6 pack
And use the fire inside
That keeps me alive
To light my spliff
Which chain reacts
to ignite my gift
Wondering how much longer
I can live life like this
And I can't help but wanna be more
But I am armed c4
On the ledge
on the 17th floor
Looking down at her ghost
Is it me or does it seem
That she needs more
Worrying about me
Has never been
About me before
Lost within her dream
Somehow took a detour
I am not peace...or
Release or
The power of belief
But I tried to believe
I could be yours.
The forth horse cometh
I can see more
They want to feed me war
180 degrees
I am diseased
To thee core
I am not a king
And you're right
I couldn't agree more
I have my point of view
and I've seen yours
honestly I'm probably
in a little bit of danger
considering my level of anger
And the fact that
I don't even want to be
A - ny - more
I try to be grateful
for my days because
I don't have many more
As shes on stage strumming
my pain with her fingers
As she sings her sirens song
I bring her the detonator
Depression threatening
to arrest me later
Then she calls
And seconds later
it's like she's my respirator
I can feel her angels breath
Head on my chest
The after position
that I love the best
But only when I'm
on my best behavior
The Way she moves
provokes my protective nature
Get aggressive
and you'll be a memory
just seconds later
With no evidence
for the investigator
And no one on earth
Will get to save ya
Then I awaken from the dream
Floating impossibly
The cost is cheap
These thoughts are deep
Come get lost in me
And there are different variations
behind each door
you are a star
and I am of the Earth
and the Moon seems
too high a dream
for me to reach for
But we have pain
and I feel like I love in vain
if I don't bleed yours
I'm not insane
I just bleed more
I feel everything
Intensely
Can't keep up with the beat
Im tired
But too wired to sleep
Defeat
- DT
#writerscreed#13cupsofteareblog#twcpoetry#spilled words#spilled poetry#writeonworld#poetry#poetryreblogs#poetry reblog#atlasconsiderations#atlascreations#lit#firestarter
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#poem#poetry#writing#poets on tumblr#j.b. cohen#mine#love#original poem#writers on tumblr#poetry reblog#capricorn#money#gambling#spilled words#word vomit#words words words#words#creative writing#spilled thoughts#spilled ink#dollars#cash#cancer#water#earth
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Mutare
We gain distance from our failures through time. Shed them, the way mayflies are supposed to treat an exoskeleton. Worm their way out.
How it must feel to look back at an empty husk of the fly you once were. Sometimes I see traces of younger selves in the mirror.
Childhood returns in a bashful smile. It’s not quite as powerful as seeing an exoskeleton.
They discovered molting, to insects, felt like ripping out their lungs. While you thrash against yourself and your past
it turns out, you can’t breathe at all. It’s absurd, how painful growing up is supposed to be.
Now, each time I evolve, hurting from a hard lesson, I picture tearing myself off, splitting the seams till they break.
Would I collect past corpses the way parents do baby teeth, strung into a morbid set of pearls or carelessly toss them to the side –
drape and bury them in ceremony or fold them in shame…
Sometimes I am tempted to relapse to old ways fall back on skins from which I barely survived an escape from. I resist my ghosts, these exhumed selves, to face the day.
NY 12.12.2
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