poeticpossibilities
poeticpossibilities
"Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words."
8826 posts
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Last Seen Blogs
marlaparks1
Marla Parks
trashcanalienist
The Meat Lord
lookingoutsidein
Looking Outside In
mon--carat
JOONGDUNK brainrot
Text
love confessed in broken english
from a broken heart
through a broken body
into the broken silence
111 notes
·
View notes
Text
That Christmas Feeling That We Lost (Or Never Had), May Broomfield
147 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Tuesday Riddell — Midnight Magpies (gold leaf, silver leaf, gold powder and paint on japanned board, 2021)
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
songs for when you have genuinely lost the plot
29K notes
·
View notes
Text
i turn my face when i see my reflection. how can i love a body that shelters me, yet makes me feel so alone?
-shelby leigh
145 notes
·
View notes
Text
I can feel the heat of your gaze,
it's like you've been staring me down for days,
burning through all my clothes,
going subterranean,
down to skin and bone.
From across the club
I can feel that heat,
I know it's finally time,
time for us to meet.
I highly doubt you'll be "the one",
but promise fills the air,
so I breathlessly
step towards our destiny,
saying a little prayer,
hoping the angels
find time
to care.
-Samuel Decker Thompson
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
NEW MTG SET STREAM
Hey, all. My sibling is streaming the new set tonight and doing some drafts. It’s got a lot of cool stuff in it, so go check it out!
https://www.twitch.tv/raynecloudfall
14 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Rayne is trying out a new game today called Luck Be A Landlord. You should check it out as they try to defeat capitalism. 🤣 @raynecloudfall #streamer #stream #luckbealandlord #luckbealandlordgame #twitch #gaming https://www.instagram.com/p/CRhXqkApp-U/?utm_medium=tumblr
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
books....aren't they our daily piece of magic?
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
you— a sunset that lingers;
the hushed lights of dusk
that make me want to be a poet.
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
And sometimes recovery
doesn’t look like medications
or therapy appointments
or healing wounds
and fading scars.
Sometimes it looks like
wearing a seatbelt
when driving a car
or hesitating before
you cross the street.
It looks like breakfast
when you remember to eat
and by god, it’s okay
if it has to be something sweet.
(Chocolate chip muffins
are my favorite treat.)
Sometimes recovery
looks like remembering to shower
even when the midnight hour
is telling you it is too late,
and sometimes it looks like
leaving at half past eight
when your school or job
started at seven.
Sometimes recovery
looks more like hell than heaven
but oh, there is brilliance
in the way it shines,
it is more human and broken
and less divine,
but it is no less beautiful.
(And I promise you
it takes my breath away.)
Sometimes recovery
is choosing to stay
even after you’ve decided to leave,
sometimes recovery
is less joy, more grief,
sometimes it’s agony,
sometimes it’s relief,
and messy, by god is it messy.
But it is recovery.
And if all I can do
is remind you
that all recovery does not look the same,
And that you do not bear the blame
if yours takes longer than others.
(Because there is no timeline to recover
all that matters is that you just don’t give in.)
If you just let yourself stand again
you will have already won the war,
because recovery is deciding
that you are worth fighting for
and you are, dearheart, you are.
Sometimes recovery
doesn’t look like fading scars
but it does look like you do today,
a quarter to nine, well past eight
rushing because you are late
but your seatbelt is on
and your favorite song
plays on the radio.
2K notes
·
View notes