I wish upon you that your shoelaces always feel the same, perfect amount of tightness and that one shoe is never tighter than the other
the silence is getting too loud. Stop it. I can't save me.
how am i going to rebuild myself when i dont let myself fall apart?
Good luck.
-
I've spent so much time being sad,
For things I should have held anger for.
Let me hear you say my name,
Beg for my forgiveness.
My absence will rot within you,
My ghost will haunt hallways you've yet to discover.
You fell in love with my mercy,
What about this rage?
I've cried my last tear,
And I am unashamed of the way I begged-
It is, however,
Your fucking turn.
x
"I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself."
– Franz Kafka
"Tomorrow needs you."
But does it?
I have no connections anymore.
I contribute not.
Tomorrow needs something, and I am nothing.
And I will be more of nothing, still --
s i l e n c e.
Nothing left but words lost to a fucking blog.
V.R.
vivi: lets escape to the human world !!
taryn: *marries a faerie*
jude:*marries a faerie*
vivi: 🧍♂️
passion.
it's supposed to be the burning flame,
the light that guides you forward,
the torch that lits the way.
but
sometimes,
the flame reduces to nothing but a spark.
and
the light seems so far that all you see is darkness.
and sometimes,
the torch burns a bit too much,
leaving us all in burned pieces.
~K
the world is heartbreaking every day and the world is beautiful every day and we have to pay attention to both
why are we the villans ?
why not her?
why is she our mother nature,
when she has always tried to tear us apart ?
why are we the villans?
why do we think that mother nature protects us,
when all her efforts were to end us?
i wonder why
why do we assume nature to be on our side.
Who am I, if not a poet? What am I, if not a writer? What is my existence, And what is my purpose?
How do I relieve myself of these emotions, If not by bleeding myself on paper? How do I express myself to the world, If not by baring myself for everyone to see? What is my comfort, if not being vulnerable with words? Where do I go, if not to pen and paper? To whom do I share my happiness, sadness, My sorrows, and guilt? Where do I let out my anger, Before it turns me cold and sharp? Where do I pour out the storm, Before it drowns me? Tell me, what do I do, If not write?
Who am I, if not a poet? What am I, if not a writer? What is my existence, And what is my purpose?
©Pen_Pain_Poetry
How to catch me
when life reveals her wounds and broken soul,
help her heal
for she has suffered too much
in the name of love.
Love ya.
@star-x-girl
@realnaaanna
@pitoftheplum
no offense but you’re lovely and you matter a lot
I know this isn't a poem but I just needed y'all to hear this.
"If I am forced to be perceived I will make sure to become incomprehensible. Interact with me and roll a wisdom saving throw."
-A friend of mine today
I know for sure that you can't help all families from Gaza that want to be evacuated from here but at least you can help those who come across your life. You have no idea how mentally and emotionally tiring this is. Asking for help is not easy. But when thinking that the price is my family's life and getting out of here safely, it just pushes me more and more to do this until i reach my goal, be able to attend my university abroad and achieve my doctoral degree dream after awarding prestigious PhD fellowship. Please donate and share to support us standing at this hard time. https://gofund.me/d597b8e2
I am a minor so i really cant help you. I apologize.
Please share this and help them!
i know,
that you didnt wanna try,
that you were tired,
that you were dying.
tell me sweetheart,
what is it that keeps you alive ?
is it
l o v e
or
r e g r e t ?
"poeticide".
the agony of being a poet
is not actually found
in being unable to write;
it's worse. my downfall is choosing to relive the pain
with every word, emotions inexpressible;
i try to exclaim: desperately
crying for help, in verse,
doomed to repeat
the cycle
until nobody is left
to witness me.
"poeticide."
d.b.a
note: i have no foolish intentions and cherish life, as well as my place within it. the emotions i feel and express are very real, but be at ease - everything will be okay, for myself and you, the reader.
Writing and rewriting the same lines,
Over and over again,
Thinking, That’s awful, this is awful, why can’t you write something good for once.
For once? Something good for once?
If it’s as awful as you’re saying it is,
Why do(es) literally everybody you know who you show it to,
And even people you “know” superficially via social media and one shared interest,
Praise it constantly?
And why do even the most unpolished of first drafts receive that same praise?
Maybe you’re actually a decent author & poet?
Ever think of that?
-oaks
i wanna answer your ask but idk your online name 😭
is it demum?
I am not sure but you can call me "K" though!thanks for answering!
:)
Okay someone betterrr hug me like thattt !
And dear witchess,turn me into a cat.
Velimir Khlebnikov, "Visitations," Collected Poems & Writings.
“Sometimes when you’re in a dark place you think you’ve been buried, but actually you’ve been planted.”
— Christine Caine
Yep.
You know what? You deserve some love. Like, lots of it. Soooo here you go! (。・ω・。)ノ♡
Take some!