smokeywhisperspoetics-blog
The Smokey Effect
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“My lips were starting to learn your language with every stroke of your tongue–and in that moment, all I wanted was to be fluent for you.”
— My body bowed to you, knowing no one else would be able to possess it.
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our road stretches a thousand miles
past the rocky peaks of everyday
…
distractions lengthening shadows
bending the velocity of thoughts
…
adhering past each blind curve
silhouettes deepen with translucent tears
…
mile signs like reminders
time continues to transcend memory
…
rocky summits bend eternity
merely a footnote to their immortality
…
the climb considerably more unyielding
than recollected pasts can comprehend
…
~Aubrie~ , -c.S.
…
Poem by:
@aubriestar and @argumentsfromwithin
Oct 27, 2018
Photo by: @argumentsfromwithin
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Only to meet again.
We meet
over and
over again
like waves
of the ocean,
we part
in trepidation
only to meet
again.
© SoulReserve 2018
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I love being single.
I love growing on my own.
I love learning what I like and hate without someone else’s voice in my head.
I love taking on the world with my bare hands – the wind-in-my-hair kind of adventure freedom often brings.
I love falling asleep with no one on my mind.
I love the peace of happiness when I am content with myself.
I love my independence.
I love the restful sleeps and the day embraced in whatever way I am able, without any plans I have to create or break – without anyone’s heart I might have to break.
I love being single.
I could go on and on.
I love being single,
but it would seem I love you more.
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“The moment my days started to rhyme was when I became yours, and you mine.”
@jmsapphire | thoughts and quotes
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But darling,
you are worth
to be loved,
no matter
how much
you’ve hated
yourself.
Who says it’s wrong? //ma.c.a
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happy halloween. it is halloween every single day from now until the end of october. happy fucking halloween
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HAPPY FIRST OF HALLOWEEN BITCHES TIME TO GET SPOOKY
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“I wish I knew when you were going to make a surprise appearance. A special guest in the constant stream of thoughts adding to the chaos when you probably think you’re helping.”
— helping you, hurting me
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16/1000*
my sore knees say their
/ prayers every night while i /
coax demons to play
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“the lesser love we / seem to pursue is made of / stars, and broken glass”
— haiku: love a little
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“We cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever. We must stand up and move on to the next action.”
— Haruki Murakami, 1Q84
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My home will be a home with no loud anger, no explosive rage, no slamming doors or breaking glass, no name calling, shaming or blackmail. My home will be gentle, it will be warm. It will keep my loved ones safe. No fear, no hurt and no worries. I may come from a broken and twisted place but I will build something whole and safe. I’ll sing in the shower again, cook with a smile and dance in all the rooms. I will heal.
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