#shit poetry

[mothoclock]

I want to tell you things

with my tongue

without making any sound at all

[maihonhassan]

"Par tere aage kuch bhi nahi sab khaak barabar" said no one ever :')

[haydsbabes]

i want to grow old with you,

until the clothes we share are faded and stretched in all the wrong places, print rubbing off, but we still wear them in the house to pay homage to the (questionable) fashion sense we shared in our early twenties.

i want to grow old with you,

until these big dreams of ours one day become fond memories which we sit and reminisce with one photo album, one blanket, two mugs of coffee and three dogs resting at our feet.

i want to grow old with you,

until one day our child comes home from school, beaming with excitement, and tells us she doesn’t want a boring job - she wants to be a creative, just like her mums.

i want to grow old with you,

and we will never once find anything to argue about, because we both know that the sweetest part of this life is, and always has been, loving each other.

[full-of-rage-and-adoration]

Sorry, I have amazing music taste and kissable lips....wanna make out?

[rins-batcave]

Days blur together

Empty, and bleak

Time passes slowly

Yet I didn’t even see

[manybrokenquills]

Yes,

I can talk.

I can force the words out of my mouth.

I can take a deep breath and make my vocal cords vibrate.

I can gather my thoughts and tell you.

But I can't talk.

There's so much to talk about.

I have so many thoughts.

But I can't talk.

I can't.

And sometimes that hurts.

Because

I wanna tell!!

I have so much to tell people!!

I want others to experience what I am!!

I want my world to be known!!

I want you to see the sun how I do!!

I want you to see you how I do!!

But like a dog who's collar zaps if they bark,

I can't.

I just can't.

So, I stick to poems,

I stick to DMs,

I stick to writing.

I still can't talk.

I still can't tell.

But, by God,

I can write.

[iloveyouitsruiningmylife]

was it truly serendipity?

when you crashed into me

I may be enigmatic

i may let my anger become static

but i held you close

now i only hold your ghost

i thought we were ineffable

but you wrote us like a fable

that begged to be seen

alas my world was not as keen

i chose solitude on my languid days

that caused you a pain you’d never say

so i called your barbed mind resplendent

even if i never meant it

you meant each thing you said

cause you were fucked in the head

so evidently your mothers puppetry

bleeding into you and me

did that mean loving me was a source of contention?

because even through your apprehension

you still chose to desert

the one that loved you first

[mysleeangel]

Ambien angel wings are going to pry themselves out of my skinny fragile spine, thus mutilating an already mutilated angel. How much more damage can an angel take? Is it a test against god? No, it’s a test against pain. Beautiful crimson, violent violet agony. It’s Ecstacy, it’s invigorating despair. Would you dance with me in my silk white webs, beaded with lovely pearls? Would you take my shaking hands adorned with silver rings and black fingernail paint? Would it be a quick, deadly silent affair? Not a breath exchanged between you two under the rain. Just eye contact like looking into the soul of two long lost gods. They don’t care about the planet crashing down around them, only themselves as they stand frozen before eachother. Wrists bleed warm love and they mingle and embrace. Let’s all embrace in perfume blood mixed fuzzy rain. I want to stare in the murky puddles and reach in with pale slender fingers to pull out a muddy seashell for you and me. 🪽🌊🩸

[my-moony-and-padfoot]

But that's not me

The fact that you won't know me

Won't know the true me

Me. Just me.

It makes me sad.

It really does

I'll always be your sister

Sister

Why not just sibling?

I'll always be your little girl

Daughter

Why not just child?

My eyes fill with tears

At the mere thought

Hot and stingy, knowing you could never

Could never love me

I don't know what you'll do,

If I marry Harriet and not Harry.

Will you be mad?

Don't be mad

I love you

I wish you could

Could love me, me

Me being me and only me

Maybe you'd make an exception?

Just for me?

I wish

[mothoclock]

I would follow you anywhere

as long as I could hold your hand

[innertragedycrown]

I would

I'd write you a poem

About how you're the stars in the sky

About how you are my home

About how happy I am that you're mine

And that you love me too

But I'm sure you already know

With every look I give you

[haydsbabes]

your sleeping body feels so right next to mine as i lay here and daydream about you. peaceful, soft, naked yet warm. content. your skin is silk and your hair is even softer, carrying the scent of coffee and you and me. maybe tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that, those daydreams of mine will come true.

[still-obsessed-with-reyna]

what is the sky without its stars

what are the trees without their leaves

what is the world without colour

and what am i without my scars?

[w24ith]

It feels so strange 

Like I can still feel tiny claws digging under my skin 

Or feel a pulsing in the space where a warm body used to be held

Small, wriggling, soft

Stay away from my hands

And all they have done to you 

For you 

And now, The steering wheel 

Hot, streaked with tears and sweat

I hold to distract myself 

From your  cries 

Mine 

And keep my eyes on the road 

I’m sorry, I’m sorry. 

As they take you away 

We both shake, with fear, with life

And I curse my hands and heart 

I promise, I thought this was the right thing to do

I hope you never think of me again 

For what I’ve done 

For my misguided hopes of a better life 

For you, for me, 

And the pool of sweat your form left behind 

In the wake of my tears 

‘it’s gonna be alright’

Has been proven 

Nothing more than hot air 

(written around August 28th, sometime late.)

I brought a kitten to the animal shelter and I feel too much in my heart.

[harleeyyyyyyyyyyyyyy]

pt 4(??) of introducing my shit poetry like i’m on npr tiny desk

so uh this is a part of an unreleased poem, sonuh teaser i guess. i haven’t decided on a title, but i’ve been thinking “what it means to be queer” or “what it means to be me.” i’ve been going through some religious guilt about being gay, and a bunch of other things have been going on. at least it breaks me out of writer’s block i guess.

here we go.

“it’s so hard to be queer.

i can’t find words to ever come near

to the experience, i fear.

have i ever not been queer?

before i was me, i was queer.

my identity is soft and salty, a fallen tear.

to me, love is intimate and dear.

but what is it to be queer?”

yeah! just a snippet, but i actually have a little photo of the original thought process.

[crush-echoes]

10/04/24 - 10 months after the final incident

I’m still waiting for you to text me back.

I create these shitty lines of words to make me feel like I’m worth something

No one will ever see these anyway

I think maybe I’m the problem

Cause you are so much better than the others

But I’m still waiting for you to text me back