candlesandquills
Last Of His Name
nineteenenglishcreative writing+black studiespoet
130 posts
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Me, every day
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what about humans doomed by the narrative? let’s talk about mental illness. let’s talk about spirals that we can’t get out of. let’s talk about hoping, willing, pleading for something to change. i was not raised religious but i have literally prayed to God to figure out what’s wrong with me. i don’t like to say that anyone is beyond saving, but sometimes i feel like i am.
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& you don’t have to be strong anymore. here,
light the cigarette. breathe in the killing fumes,
laugh, bury the butt under the bedrock of words,
rome wasn’t built in a day but the London bridge
fell in one. here in Spain, they smoke cigarettes
until their teeth ache. here in America, the stone
is rotting beneath our feet. tell me you feel the
same. let’s put our mouths together, far apart.
offer me a kiss. we can die the same death.
#poem#poet#writer#creative writing#grief#for the frat boy on his front porch#for his grandfather#for my friend#dark academia
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so it’s like this? we don’t get to be happy? when your friends die, they’re just dead? buried two weeks before your birthday? you have to live life knowing that it was supposed to be you that died? of all your friends, you were the one who was supposed to die first. you were supposed to die. you were supposed to die you were supposed to die it wasn’t supposed to be her and now the ground is hardening beneath our feet and the world is on fire but their are still roses growing on your grave. i look back at our memories, and you were still the one i couldn’t save?
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i hate you in a way i reserve only for the people i love
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An Introduction!
Hi! My name is Paris, like Paris of Troy, but you can call me Icarus!
I’m nineteen and a university student studying English, with minors in classics, creative writing, and Black Studies.
I am agender and transmasculine!
I specifically write poetry, and am the creative writing editor for a major on campus newspaper, as well as a student senator.
I’m always open to asks, and feel free to slide into my DM’s if you want to talk. This blog will mainly focus on poetry, academia, and sometimes (rarely) Marvel hornyposting, so if that’s not your cup of tea, I’m sure there’s another blog that’s more to your liking!
I hope everyone has a good day!
-Icarus
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is there a word to describe the feeling like-
i want children. i want to love someone enough i want a child with them. i want to see their first steps, and know their first words, and take them to their first day of preschool
but it’s like,
it’s cruel to pass down my genetics. i can barely take care of myself, how do i take care of a child? i want to break the cycle but i’m not sure i can. i have issues that could kill me. do i love this child enough to die for it?
i’m not a woman, or a man, but in another lifetime, i would have been a good mother
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and in my dreams we came home late. we shook the last of the mud off of our tiny kid shoes, and looked in the mirror for one last time. then we were older.
but time doesn’t work like that. what I mean is that I don’t recognize anyone at my home branch of the library. my hair products have been removed from the upstairs bathroom. the bear my birthmother gave to me is collecting dust in a closet.
some things stay the same. i still use the only swim bag with my dead name on it, but hardly anyone notices. i put my boxing gloves in their place and imagine myself six years ago. my stuffed moose always sits at my right hand, and looks up at me with soulful black eyes.
growing older isn’t like looking into a mirror and not recognizing yourself, or endless self hatred before it turns into a pattern of unhealthy behaviors
growing older is an ill fitting pair of favorite shoes, or the bursting seams of an over lined notebook that has weathered many storms, or a mug that shattered when you tried to mail it to your door.
sometimes growing older, means letting go,
#dark academia#poet#writer#college#dark acadamia aesthetic#prose#spilled prose#creative writing#poem
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don’t you love when you realize things were extremely traumatic events like two weeks later
what’s more dark academia than giving head in a graveyard
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what’s more dark academia than giving head in a graveyard
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