#there is a poem here somewhere

[noah-constrictor3]

back to the habit of biting my lips so bad they bleed

[julymusings]

jason todd with a partner who loves biting him. he's all bulging muscles and soft skin, you just can't help it. those huge biceps? bitten. iron calves? sinking your teeth in. pecs???? CHEWING on them. THIGHS?????? need to take a bite OUT of him

[ominousblob]

//I love you so much it hurts me, maybe that's my problem.

[dawnbreakersgaze]

☆ "𝓖𝓾𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓶𝓮, 𝓞 𝓡𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓼,

𝓖𝓾𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓶𝓮, 𝓞 𝓛𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓶𝓽𝓼, 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓮𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓼" ☆

[deosilplanarglitches]

I am eternal.

I am a thousand years old.

I was born yesterday.

I am five.

I am twelve.

I am thirty three.

I am eighty six.

I am a hundred and eight.

I am eighty six.

I am thirty three.

I am twelve.

I am five.

I was born yesterday.

I am a thousand years old.

I am eternal.

[trickstersaint]

hey hi hello! first of all i'd like to say i took your patron saint uquiz and it. Changed my life unironically it's so good. i follow you now because every line in that quiz was a gut punch and i loved it. top tier hurt honestly

my question is this - i am a fanauthor. on the side i also write my own original fiction but i specialize in fanfic. Am I allowed to use your poetry for a reference folder? I wouldn't use your poetry in a fic without explicit permission and without linking back here of course, and I'd never use it for commercial work outside of maybe taking inspiration without copying, but I wanna have a ref folder of Things That Made Me Feel Things about a character. It's not planned to be public as of yet, it's just supposed to be a bunch of screenshots in my drafts, but I'd like to maybe one day make it public once the fic was complete. (I already have your blog linked in my drafts actually, so if it goes public I'm not gonna forget.) I just want to make sure you're comfortable with me using your poetry for fanfic of all things

It's cool if not and have a great day! I still think your poetry is great and evocative and all

hi, anon! you're all good, i prommy. so glad you like the quiz + the poetry, and i would always prefer people come and ask questions if they're uncertain! no trouble at all.

my general stance is that as long as it's clearly credited, i am totally cool with my work being used in personal projects. like you said, i've got a tag for the things that people make! i love to see what people create. if it's for a noncommercial creative project then i would say there's no need to ask beforehand (unless it would make you more comfortable to ask, in which case go ahead and i'll almost certainly say yes <3). my only thing is that if you post it, please tag me in it/send it to me so that i can reblog it here for people to see!

if there are any questions about using my work that anyone has, feel free to ask. i don't think i've got anything particular going on outside of common practice! same way you'd treat, like, a richard siken poem or smth: you wanna credit it so that people can find the source material, and make sure you're not using it for profit unless you have an understanding with that author. i trust you all to be decent about it <3 kiss kiss go out and make your cool little things so that i can be delighted and amazed with them

[svamppp]

There are certain things I've always known about myself, one of those is how my emotions work. I am a blank slate, my emotions pushed so far beneath the surface that I cannot discern their meanings anymore. instead, they mirror the environment around me. passively I feel the things I am told about, less harshly but there none the less.

I can listen to the lands and to those I know and feel their feelings, it's beautiful and helpful. it protects me, but I wonder what it would be like to have organic emotions. not harvested from another

[rathockey]

the pit of longing in my stomach is growing teeth. i fear it may soon become ravenous.

[kiisuuumii]

the one thing i really hate about wanting to submit to contests and magazines is that it means i have to wait MONTHS to be able to share that poem here :(

[cambriancrew]

We wrote this a very long time ago, and recently rediscovered it. It's not exactly what we'd call a good short story as it's weak and way too much telling, not enough showing, but we remember it with fondness, and rereading it today brought us some nice waves of nostalgia.

Knight in Shattered Armor

Sir Lee stood in the shadow where she fell, the dragon dead before him, his ladylove broken beside the dragon’s bulk. Its heart bled onto the dry and thirsty ground. Ground that, some hours later, served as a burial place for his lady, the dragon’s heart, and his own.

He rode silently back into town, no knight in shining armor as he had been while riding out to rescue. His helm was cracked in half, his breastplate broken into pieces, his shield shattered, and a dark hole where his heart ought to have been. And in his silence echoed the angry words that had led him to this place…

===

“But why?” he demanded.

“I don’t love you anymore,” Princess Evanesca said matter-of-factly, as if answering a question of addition rather than one of intention. “Truly I think I never did, that it was merely a flight of fancy – me, a princess, in love with a knight? Surely it was all a product of too many romance tales, rather than reality.”

He held too tightly to the hand-carved wooden box in his hands, as if by grip alone he could contain the hot anger that rose within him. Any hotter and surely, he felt, the box would catch on fire in his fingers.

“Now His Highness Prince Aneas – now that is real, and truly what any princess should yearn for. Nevermind that my father has forbidden it—“

“Of course he has! You know the reputation of the man. You’ve seen the heartbroken maids yourself! He’s no upstanding gentleman as one of his rank ought to be, but a lecher who desires only your beauty for a night, not your love for a lifetime!”

“Don’t you dare say a word against him! He loves me! And we’re leaving for his kingdom across the sea this very night!”

“What? I won’t allow you to go! This is madness, or witchcraft, woman!”

“No! What this is,” Princess Eva said, motioning to the space between them, “is the hate of a man who knows nothing of honor, who speaks nothing but ill of his betters!” Her lovely face wasn’t half so lovely when contorted with rage.

“Honor? I know well enough to know this prince will meet you on some hillside and strip you of your honor, then leave you while he returns home laughing!”

He saw shock on her face as he spoke of hillsides. “So he has agreed to meet you on a hill.”

“In the mountains, an hour’s ride from here,” she said coldly. “And don’t you dare follow me.”

“Don’t worry, Princess. I won’t.”

He left in angry silence while she shouted back at him, “Fine! I hate you too! I never want to see you again as long as I live!”

He marched silently to his room, locked the door, and threw the box on the floor. It broke open, and the engagement ring inside rolled out.

He left it where it lay.

That evening, just before dusk, he had taken an apple out to his horse, and his dinner to eat alone out in the stables. The castle gossips were abuzz with rumors of his row with the princess, and speculations on the whys and wherefores were rampant. He didn’t like the idea of eating in the dining hall where it felt like half the conversations were accusing him of being unfaithful and the other half were speculating on who it had been with.

He was sitting on a bucket in his horse’s stall when he overhead the stable boys talking excitedly among themselves. Thinking it would be more gossip about himself, he got up in anger to leave.

Then he heard what they were saying:

“Are you sure he said a dragon?”

“Yes, dragon! Just beyond the forest, in the mountains!”

The mountains. The princess. Oh no.

He geared up and was on his horse riding full speed toward the dragon, leaving behind his bowl of stew, baffled stableboys, and the whispers of busybodies behind.

He arrived too late on several accounts. He found the princess crying in a heap, her hair and dress in shambles. Hoofbeats in the distance told him the prince had just left her. And though he couldn’t hear it, he felt the echo of laughter in the air. And not pleasant laughter, either.

He dismounted, tied his horse to a nearby tree, and began to walk toward the princess, when the dragon snatched her up in its jaws.

He drew his sword and attacked. A solid swipe across the throat made the dragon roar, tossing its head, throwing the princess aside.

A flurry of attacks, some clumsy attempts at counters – claw swipes and bites are much more difficult when you’re used to parrying swords instead – some very dismal defenses, and some very lucky sword strikes later, and the dragon was dead. It was over so fast. But not nearly fast enough, for long before the dragon died, the princess had drawn her last breath.

===

Two years passed, and time’s river wore smooth the rough edges of his cracked stone of a heart. Yet still it lay heavy in his chest. And though his new armor glistened and gleamed, at times he thought he could still feel the sharpness of the places where once it had been shattered.

On a cool autumn day, he strode in to the blacksmith’s to ask about a sword. And to see the blacksmith’s daughter.

Okay, mostly to see the blacksmith’s daughter.

Her name was Leona, and she was such a good blacksmith herself that her father had never sought an apprentice. No boy could turn out such a fine strong sword, nor sweat and swear over the forge fire with half her fury. Mostly the swearing was aimed at her unruly hair, which insisted on slipping out of braids and dangling down as if it wanted a closer look at whatever work she was doing.

“So I heard you got some mithril in today,” he said as he walked in, by way of hello.

Leona settled some new daggers into place in the display case, and straightened up to talk to him. “Your ears are doing double duty for your eyes too today?” she said, motioning toward the sign advertising mithril pieces.

“Well you see, my nose went on vacation after slaying a pretty foul-smelling troglodyte the other day. And my eyes are much better at smelling than my ears, so they took over that job. And my eyes tell me you smell quite lovely today. A mixture of… what’s that I detect, steel and soot and – sunflowers.” He added the last after her grin turned into a glare.

She went back to grinning as he said, “I’d like to commission a mithril short sword, and in payment I’d give you this. “ He pulled out the hand-carved wooden box and she gasped.

“If that’s a ring,” she said, trying to sound severe but failing miserably, “I … don’t think… we’re… in that kind of relationship yet.”

“I know,” he said. “But I’d like to be. So instead I bring you this gift.” He opened the box to reveal, on a cushion of silk, two strong hairpins, with a tiny sunflower on the end of each. “Lady Leona,” he said. “May I have permission to court you?”

She touched the pins delicately. “I’d… have to… Father will have to be…”

“I’ve already talked to him and gotten his permission.”

“Then yes,” she said firmly. “On one condition.”

“And that is?”

“You ever go after a dragon again, you come back to me in one piece. All of you. Armor and all.”

“I promise.”

And they lived a long and happy life together, Sir Lee and Lady Leona. He never raised his voice in anger again, but spoke calmly even through fear and worry and times of distress – for no life nor marriage is entirely free from those. When he felt the anger rise, he remembered the hill, the shattered armor, the broken heart. And as Leona had given him her heart, to replace his broken stone one, he swore to never do anything to break it.

And in all their years of marriage, he only broke that promise once. But that was what courage called for on that one occasion, and in the end, the realm was better for it – but that’s another story, for another time.

===

[hersurvival]

The birds woke up with the sun

And haunted the trees out back.

Chirping and frantic,

I could see them through the glass.

Six feeders filled,

They've left.

Screaming and searching for nurture

But once offered

They turn back to ghosts -

Their song distant,

My feeders still full.

[hiswrlds]

I miss you, but I miss myself more 

I miss you like a childhood I lost

in places I can't map

in promises forgotten with time

to choices that weren't mine

[weirdgrrlgerard]

hiiii if anyone can recommend some movie musicals (preferably classics) i’d appreciate it so much 🫶

[feralstemgirl]

thinking about how as a kid i struggled so hard to learn how to put my hair up in a ponytail and i always had my mom do it for me but when i was in seventh grade my best friend decided to try and teach me and she spent at least a week teaching me and helping me practice until i finally got it right.

and it’s been years but i still do it the way she taught me, and i think of her almost every time. do you miss me too? do you think of me when you put your own hair up?

these days, we only really talk on birthdays (yours, mine) but somehow when people ask me who’s your best friend, my mind always flashes to her first. bright eyes. strawberry blonde hair. a smile like sunshine. laughter like the most lovely music i've ever listened to.

and i still haven’t had the heart to change my instagram profile pic from the photo we took in fifth grade, sitting on the edge of your neighborhood’s pool with our backs to the camera and our arms linked together like an infinity sign. and i wonder, do you still look at my profile from time to time? and if you do, what goes through your mind when you do? does it make you smile to yourself and think of summer days spent traipsing through the woods? or do you just think it's a little weird that i never changed it?

and maybe i should but not today. not today.

today, i'll look at it and think of warm hands holding mine, promising me, you're my best friend, i could never forget you.

today, i'll look at it and i'll remember the day we stripped into swimsuits and went down to the pond and threw mud at each other like snowballs until we were covered head to toe and laughing like we were mad, and i'll think to myself, you were my home for a decade of my life. you were my everything, and leaving you was the hardest thing i've ever done.

today, i'll look at it and i'll remember the box full of letters she gave me when i moved away (one to open when i was sad, one to open when i was grieving, one to open when i was happy, one to open when i was afraid, and one to open on my next birthday) and i'll think to myself, i loved you and i love you and i will always love you and it's not the same anymore but the love still remains and sometimes i don't know what to do with that.

today, i'll look at it and i'll remember the pack of cards she gave me for my thirteenth birthday with notes written over each card in sharpie about all the things she loved about me, and i'll think to myself, i hope more than anything that you are happy right now, that your life is full of joy and success and love and friendship and wonder.

today, i'll look at it and i'll remember us, promising each other we'd always stay together. we'd go to college together and get jobs at the same company and we'd find a little blue house out on the edge of the woods and we'd be roommates and our husbands would be best friends too and we'd build a little life together and when we grew old and weary of this life we'd sit on the porch of our little home and we'd laugh as we finally passed into the next, our hands still linked together.

i wish we'd had more time, i'll think to myself, but i'm so grateful for the time we did have and i know the memories we made will stay with me forever.

[hydetheghost]

"The only place where I want to be at the moment is my grave."

[othellho]

— A Song on the End of the World, Czeslaw Milosz (trans. Anthony Milosz)