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and-corn · 6 months

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its-ya-boi-kaz · 2 months

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Oh, to be pure again

#booklr #web weaving #girlblogger #girlblogging #girlhood #girl hysteria #girlrotting #just girly posts #poetry #angsty poetry

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asphodelpoetry · 5 days

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i ache for our history.

i’ll miss you like my scars miss bleeding,

and i’ll damn you all the same

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kimberlychapman · 2 months

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BREAKING NEWS from the SpaceDad Stories Historical Documents Research Centre! In honour of @SpaceDadSupport on Twitter gaining 1701 followers recently, we are unveiling select pages from Jean-Luc Picard's teenage poetry journal! Images follow, will later be posted to the official SpaceDad Stories page:

More about Marguerite will be revealed in Book Four. Read 1-3 now for free at https://kimberlychapman.com/spacedad/read-the-stories/ which includes links to AO3.

Oh Marguerite Who hath stepped forth from the ancient angel statues Out of the crumbling church into our modern lives Yet an angel still

Oh Marguerite Your hair like the spun gold of legends past Your eyes like direct windows to the blue heavens above Above your tempting little grin

Oh Marguerite Who is no angel because there are no angels Who is no devil because there are no devils Yet pure human beauty

Oh Marguerite If only my tongue would not collapse upon seeing you If only my heart could sing out my truth You'd know I love you.

Sweet, beautiful Désirée Whose very name means desire You must know you have every fellow in town upon his knees

I beg of you Teach me to grovel That I may earn But one kiss

Yes, that's a reference. IYK,YK. :D

To my dear Lucile Whose laughter lights up my soul Whose smile burns through my heart Whose red hair enflames my entire being I would bestow upon thee All of the bonbons I could carry If only to make you glance my way for a moment

Darling Elodie We are called upon to write poetry for class Monsieur has said it must not be romantic We are to evoke natural images But it is in my nature to think only of you If I must describe the wind I will envisage it running through your ebony hair If I must describe a tree I will consider only your strength and comforting shade If I must describe a flower I will imagine only the petal softness of your lips Because my darling What means nature to me Without you amidst it?

Maman understands Papa does not The stars call me The vines can rot

Oof, this one got all of us at the Historical Documents Research Centre tearing up a little.

That's all for this release. We hope you enjoyed this insight into a young Frenchman's romantic angst. Perhaps if the account grows to another amusing Trek number more pages will be released. Otherwise stay tuned for more SpaceDad Stories books, coming as fast as they can be written. (PS more shares/reviews/kudos means faster writing!)

#star trek #star trek the next generation #star trek tng #fanfic #fanfiction #jean luc picard #picard #captain picard #terrible teenage poetry #poetry #angsty poetry

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ramblingsofaporcelainheart · 2 months

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Unconditional love.

Love. Without condition. Without reason, without requirement, without demand.

To let go of condition is to let go of ego, of expectation, of pride.

My hands overflow with ego, my offerings weighted with expectation, my self offered only with the demand of appreciation. Self protection elevated to my heart's pinnacle, how can I love like that?

Unconditional foolishness, more like, for how can being torn apart make me whole? Let them hurt me? No no, I can protect myself, I am strong. The humble are taken advantage of. I am me. In me l put my trust.

Still.

Can me be enough? I am king of my walled in castle, god of my inner world, and it is so lonely. Full of condition, even in the recesses of my own heart. What if safety has been the foolishness all along?

Love is an easy word. A word to say without thought. But the multitudes it contains? To walk through those without condition? Mercy. Grace. Kindness. Selflessness. Compassion. Tenderness. Honesty. Generosity.

Foolishness. Foolishness! It will tear me apart, You will tear me apart! Do not ask, do not ask, lead me not outside of my lonely kingdom!

Lead me not into the storm with Your promise of green lands and laughing streams. Do not offer me a hope so wonderful as love without condition.

You would rob me of myself. Tear from me my walls of protection. Force me to care for those who would wrong me.

Traitor feet, leaping onto the waters, do not follow the albatross into the storm. He says, courage, but I am sore afraid.

Though the inner wall of the storm tears at every dead and unholy part of me, the peace in the eye is complete. I am still too dead, too unholy to stay here, but for a moment I can see. Strength without pride. Humility without cowardice. Identity without selfishness.

To be whole is to be poured out. To be strong is to be meek. To be great is to be least. To be safe is to offer everything.

To love unconditionally. Is to become nothing but Love Himself. And I am slowly learning.

#ramblings of a porcelain heart #original poetry #emotional poetry #religious poetry #angsty poetry #christianity #unconditional love #faith #storm #love

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coyote-in-the-mirror · 1 year

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I have always been lonely, not alone

Humans surround me but I am not like them

Their brains work in a way mine doesn't

They see the world in a way that I don't

The mask I've worn all my life has melted onto my face

And I don't know who I am underneath it anymore

So I sew a quilt full of pieces of other people

Things I think humans are like, normal things,

Things I've seen and read, things I should be like

And I imprison myself in the warmth beneath the blazing sun

#actuallyautistic #autism feels #alterhuman #nonhuman #otherkin #therian #therianthropy #angsty poetry #poemblr #original poem #adult autism #autistic poet #sadge

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ikarus-wax-wings · 8 months

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Rot

Don't romanticize me, lover

I taste sweet but

When you bite into me

Beware the rot left between your teeth

Cloying

Clawing out

I've tried to change but I'm afraid my roots are moulded

And the apple never falls far from the tree

The worms have known me longer than any friend

They eat my insides- relishing in my indecency

I've scrubbed at my skin until I bleed

I don't want to be dirty anymore

But I was born in soil

And I've never really dug myself out

My hope has been filled with clouds

I can imagine myself with wings

Yet I still can't walk

The fetus of my mother's grief

I was given legs and no bravery to run

So I try to make myself good with seeds

They grow into something beautiful

Something I pray is not poisonous

Something that covers my face and how twisted it is

Under the foliage

Because I can only be so good

And I'm afraid it doesn't reach

My rotten core

-- Mischa Napier ( dedicated to my partner)

#original poem #original writing #love poem #sad love poem #poets on tumblr #poems and quotes #poem #poetry #angsty poetry

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trans-aroace-root-beer · 2 months

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and when i get to that age, i'll go to the closest gas station to buy a pack of marlboro reds and a pack of newports. because those were my parents' favorite kinds, and when i try them both, i'll get to see if i truly am just like my father, or if i'm still the same old burning reflection of my mother.

#and when the cherry of the marlboro red falls off to burn a hole in my jeans #i'll laugh at the irony- a stiff echo of how things used to be #and when the newport tastes of ash #i will revel in the smell and not the taste and think of simpler times when my mom would put hers out just to hold me closer with both arms #poetry #?#angsty poetry #angst #parental issues #daddy issues #mommy issues

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the-fab-fox · 1 year

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Gains of sand!

I'm response to a follow up ask, this was supposed to be "grains of sand". Lol.

For you, my friend. @dazzlerazz

Prompt: Grains of sand.

---

Time

By Finley Beckett

Time.

It's an illusion.

It's always there, yet there's never enough.

It's always slipping away…

Slip. Slip. Slipping… never staying.

Like water one tries to hold in one's hand.

Or the grains of sand that flow

Through the ever moving hourglass of life.

It's an illusion.

That ever shifting, that ever flowing

Time.

#poetry #angsty poetry #poets on tumblr #original poem #short poem #free verse #free verse poem #free verse poetry

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dianneking · 11 months

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Proud

You told me you were trying to change

And I did believe you

But people say these things so many times

That I forgot that you're not people

And then you took that first, gigantic step

And I realized you're a better person than me

And I'm so proud proud proud

Proud of you, my love.

Irony of fate

That you should start to climb those stairs

Just after I've slipped

And tumbled down a flight

But you are so beautiful in your ascent

(I'm proud)

And I am bruised by my fall

I'm not going to ask you

(no I'd never ask you)

to wait for me

#dianneking's poetry corner #Poetry #Poem #queer poetry #Pride #angsty poetry #Is that even a thing?#Idk #Poetry is weird

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yelloeukulele · 3 months

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Dear Tim,

I think I wanted you to be good

I wanted to look at you

And see a light in your eye

That mine had lost 10 years ago

I wanted to feel the warmth of the sun

In a smile you would direct towards me

I wanted to feel the comfort

Of a hug

From a father

To a daughter

And as I spiraled in my seat

Surrounded by the scent of sweetness and salt

Back lit by a window

Which held the reflection

Of a past version of myself

I could not face

In the fear of being blinded by possibilities stolen

I could not help but wilt

To tumble into the shadows

Of a little girl

Who once could only wonder

“Why?”

“Why did you leave?”

“Why was I not enough?”

“Why were we not enough?”

Not in the sense of abandonment she once held

But in a numb realization

That you were never

Ever

Going to change.

You got there late.

Claimed I looked the same

Then ignored me for the menu page

And as I say

Baited breath

Clenching fists to tight

I had almost a years worth of crescent moons imprinted in my hands

An hour went by

And then two

And three

And I suddenly realized I still couldn’t breath

I looked to you in hopes of catching your sight

That a smile could break the barrier

That you held between your lips

I did what I always do

I ran

And through the tears

That I let fall down the drain

While I hid in a women’s restroom

Wiping black streaks from my skin

Which smudge accordingly

I realize that even a conversation

After 15 years

Was too much to expect

Not because the idea is illogical

But simply because you are

I begin to chant

“I was enough.”

“She was enough.”

“They were enough.”

After many moments my breathing calms

My heart no longer palpitates

And I begin to reflect on this time shared

I think maybe the darkness that I saw in your eyes

The ones which so closely mirror mine

Is what told me that whatever pain

What ever sorrows and unanswered prayers

Which permiated your childhood

Sunk into your clothes

Into your skin

Into your hair

Were too much for you to bare

Maybe We had always be enough

But you never could be

In the silence at the breakfast table

One which sat miles away from each of us

I recalled how I read ever thought which went unspoken

their stories written inside the lines of their faces

Foreshadowing amongst the shadows held under their lashes

And worst

Was the dimness which had taken over once shining orbs on each side of button noses

I could see grief as if a tattoo

Permanently staining their skin

Whatever has happened to you

It must have been terrible

So horrifying

That even when given the brightest of smiles

The happiest of giggles

Of tiny feet

With tiny socks

And tiny shoes

You could do nothing but watch

As you pushed them as far into your own pain

As your own parents

Had pushed you into theirs

I have more in common

With the black coffee I drink

Than with the thought

That I could love you

That you ever loved me

That at one time I stayed up

And watched the moon

In hopes

You saw it too

And through those tears

That I let fall down the drain

While I hide in a women’s restroom

Having Wiped black streaks from my skin

Which smudged accordingly

I walk back to the dining room

Only to see you outside

Smoking gold from thin white paper

Which burns in slow embers

Quickly fading to pale ash

Releasing the loose smoke

And look at a table full of sympathetic smiles

I sit to read their stories

And come to the conclusion

That I did not come for him

But for those he is surrounded by

If I was not born the be his daughter

And him my father

Then at the very least

I can find comfort

In knowing

I was born

To be a sister

P.S.

I’m sorry I’m not your little girl anymore,

and I’m sorry you’re not a little boy anymore.

I’m sorry you were robbed from childhood

and I’m sorry you robbed it from them too.

However

Just because you were robbed

Doesn’t mean you had to Rob them too

I hope if you ever see this,

you understand what I am trying to tell you.

I hate who you were, and who you’ve become,

and I hate what you did to these children I never knew

I know I may never be a real sister to them,

but like me

I know you’ll never be their father too.

Best wishes,

your second daughter

Oh yea,

I know about keighley too.

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wordlywriter · 3 months

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we’re poets… of course you’ll end up in one of our poems (so beware :))

#writers #writerslife #poetry #help #angsty poetry

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alder-saan · 11 months

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little piece of poetry I wrote 4 years ago. It's in French but I tried to translate it.

tw: selfh4rm, death

Gravure

Je grave ma peau

Comme on grave la pierre

Et je grave les mots

De la tombe au cimetière

Je grave et je grave

Grave encore et encore

Et je sais que c'est grave

De se graver le corps

Mais je grave ma peau

On gravera ma pierre

Tôt où tard, tous ces mots

Sur une tombe, au cimetière

Engraving

I engrave my skin

As one engraves stones

I engrave the words

From the grave to the graveyard

I engrave, I engrave

Engrave again and again

And I know: it is grave

To engrave your own body

But I engrave my skin

One will engrave my stone

Sooner or later all these words

On a grave in the graveyard

______

An: I love the way it added some grave with the grave and graveyard :)

Might try to do it better later!

#Poetry #Tw #Alder does some poetry #It's an old piece tho #angsty poetry

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asphodelpoetry · 15 days

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i look to the stars

wildly hope they’ll glow green,

with my childhood clasped in their light—

time, the only one i’ll curse,

myself, the only one i’ll miss

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crazypossumman · 6 months

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too late, i think {a poem by r. h. stoker}

tomorrow, i think,

will be far too late.

this fleeting desire

will have long passed me.

these dark hours at night

i hold close at heart:

the better person

i so long to be.

stronger and faster,

thin, wise, and well-dressed:

better, and maybe

good enough for me.

so i lie in bed,

close my eyes and grieve

that better person

i will never be.

Writing Tag ↓ | Pinned | Writing Masterlist | Kofi | Etsy

#roan writes #writing #writer #writblr #writerblr #poetry #poem #sad poetry #angsty poetry #poems #poet #quick poetry #amateur poet #amateur poetry #amateur poem

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ramblingsofaporcelainheart · 10 months

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My heart pouring out

Through my eyes

Weeping for another “he loves me not”

Sisyphus pushing his stone

Up the unyielding mountain

Hoping for anything but the inevitable

#ramblings of a porcelain heart #original poetry #sad poetry #emotional poetry #angsty poetry #love poem #pining poetry #poetry

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