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hayatheauthor · 1 year

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When I was a kid I used to hate being compared to my sisters. I used to think it meant that people only saw me as a second version of them.

But now I feel so silly for thinking that way. Because I realised I have parts of them just as they have parts of me.

They are the ones that taught me it was okay to be myself because I saw them be that way.

They taught me to accept myself and helped me grow into who I am.

Some of us are so awfully alike. And some of us are so different but have small similarities others won't notice. And that's okay.

Because the parts that we hold of each other is a testimony to our love and childhood bond.

It doesn't mean that I'm a second them. It means I hold parts of their personality that helped me form myself. It means I am their younger sister.

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env0writes · 1 year

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Unwritten, 4.18.23 “Big Dipper"

Brother, best friend, blood We are of dust, Splinters of stars Left to rot in gravity wells Sailor boy set course Of course the stars you seek Are closer still, Than any sea you leave with foam What trail will your comet tail What epilogue, will you entail? Brother, brother, blood and rust Show me all the cosmic dust

@env0writesC.Buck Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artist! Photo by @mynamemeanscloud

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storytellersumayyah · 3 months

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cw: family relations

i cannot write to my mother.

where would i start?

do i tell her i love her and then list all the ways i hate her or do i list all her mistakes and then remind her that i love her despite them (not because, never because)?

do i tell her she must be beautiful because i am beautiful and i came from her or do i tell her i cannot be beautiful because if i am nothing more than the spitting image of her?

do i tell her it is okay that the pain didn’t skip me because i felt it so it will not touch her grandchildren or do i tell her that she should have seen the ghosts in my eyes?

where would i end?

i cannot write to my father.

what language would i use aside from the one that only ever cursed him?

do i tell him that it is fine he does not know the simple details of my life because he is not the exception or do i tell him that there were simple questions with simple answers and he should have asked?

do i tell him how i am sorry i am not a daughter he can ever be truly proud of but i will do my best to be something or do i tell him he is responsible for who i am so my shame should be his shame?

do i tell him about the way i take every question with an ounce of suspicion because it must mean something more or do i tell him about the way i tell my friends when he does the good thing?

how would i share?

i cannot write to my sister.

when would be the moment?

do i tell her that she took my chance to be my own person from me without realising or do i tell her that everything i am is because she was someone else first?

do i tell her that i seethe with anger as i adjust my life to fit around hers the way the earth orbits around the sun or do i tell her it does not matter because being a sibling is swings and roundabouts?

do i tell her that the things she says are insults to everyone, acceptable only because of the blood we share or do i tell her that i suppose it is better that she trusts us enough to be furious?

why would i start?

i cannot write to them.

so i write about them.

perhaps it is the same.

they end up being loved and slandered in the same sentence either way.

i can write everything and anything but words to the ones who raised me

#sumayyah writes #writing #poetry #poem #cw family relations #family poem #sad poem

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cryptic-science · 2 years

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oh brother of mine,

how i wish you could see yourself

the way i see you in my mind.

youre the thorn in my side,

youre the sun that shines.

oh brother dear,

little brother,

i will always share

an orange with you.

#clowns around evilly #im feeling sentimental okay #poetry #siblings #sibling poem #sibling poetry #brother #poem #free verse #?#family #family poetry #family poem #sibling relationship #family love

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localfriendofdorthy · 1 year

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i miss vacation bible school

i’m the afternoons we sang his name, i didn’t like the taste on my toung. there is a rot in my heart where god should be. and i think maybe he loved everyone but me. and they say he’s all around, but you don’t see him. and they say he’s with you but you don’t feel him. and they say he’ll answer your prayers but you can’t fucking hear him. you begin to wonder, has he gone deaf or have you? when the phone rings which one of us does not pick up? does god hate me or do i hate him? his body is stuck on the roof of my mouth, his blood i do not dare touch. during church i’d stare at the stain glass, constantly aware of the feeling of emptiness. like everyone else had this giant love, this belief. yet you could not love, you could not believe. and you thought it would grow as you came with age but instead came a rage, a kind of frustration of “what did i do to be the one you chose not to walk with”. and you start to daydream at church, and be late to church, and tell your mom you don’t feel like going to church and than suddenly you just don’t go. you know it’s wrong, every month your mom says “this time we’re gonna start going back” and every month you don’t. you realize you have become everything he hates. maybe god knew not to love me because he knew the monster i would become, maybe i knew not to love him because i know the monster he created.

#poetry #poets on tumblr #queer poems #queer poets on tumblr #transgender #trans artist #trans poem #richard siken #family poem #religious poem #religious trauma

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mavbear · 10 months

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the 4th

i hate being the youngest.

the oldest is away in her apartment doing who knows what. the other is at her own house with her boyfriend, soon to be husband. and they’re both about 10 years older than me and we don’t talk too much.

my brothers, 18, only 2 yrs older than me. however, tonight he’s in another state with people i’ve meet only a few times. in less than a few months, he’ll still be in another state but for college.

my mom and dad are arguing. so only one of them go to see fireworks with me.

and as i sit, curled up in the front seat, i want to cry. i don’t want to continue spending the holidays like this. i don’t want them to feel so lonely and unreal. i want this to be a family thing. they all had those experiences of being together and yea i might have been there too but i was too young to remember. too young to bask in the feeling.

it’s only going to continue, christmas will become quiet, easter will be quick n over, and the 4th will just be another day off.

i want to sit on top of our car with both my sisters and my brother on our old blankets, shoe untied. i want mom and dad to be there n in charge of the music. i want to feel a little too warm while swatting away bugs but still laughing with everyone. i want to watch the fireworks.

i wish they didn’t leave me so behind.

#mavbear rants #poetry #my poems #poems on tumblr #dead poets society #original poem #mini poem #poemsbyme #???? idk #poem #4th of july #the 4th #youngest #youngest in family #family poem #im alone

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siredash · 1 year

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By blood, by bond, by pain,

Family formed is the strongest feeling felt.

Once gained the loss will leave you yearning for that feeling anywhere.

I thought that feeling would never leave with you.

Safe in your arms, the warmth would surround me overwhelmingly.

Now all I feel is cold as your hands lock around mine.

I feel your weight on me crushing,

If I let go you’ll crumble, if I hold on I'll suffocate.

Desperately trying to freeze time to let us breath in the cracks,

The right hand strikes 0 now, surrounded by cold, I lay.

I don't feel you anymore.

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mygenderislostinspace · 4 years

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2020

Family

There is love.

There is great pain.

But that brings life.

-

Welcome.

There are tears.

There is joy.

For the start of a family brings those things.

-

The new hope grows.

One month.

Year.

It keeps on going.

They can walk.

Talk.

Learn.

Feel.

-

More hope comes.

More pain, but equal joy.

-

The cycle repeats.

The first spark of joy begins to fade; they must protect the younger light.

Guide them.

Love them.

-

The first is now dim; exhausted.

They cannot go on.

But they must stay.

Protect the light.

It's a fight that can be easily lost, but they won't give in.

They mustn't.

-

There are many others in that journey.

Some are as bright as the sun; others just like you.

-

You may think that they will only bring each other down.

Wrong; they each light up.

Even by just a little.

Without them, the light fades again.

-

The first experiences problems; it's the time of independence.

It's time to discover.

But will the creators approve?

-

The light dims again.

It cowers in the dark.

The light flickers at night.

It's the same every day.

The first needs its light.

Its family.

-

The family; can they be trusted?

Why does one seem so dark?

Why is one bringing them down, when they should be lighting them up?

-

The family doesn't help.

They're screwing in a crap bulb.

The others are the only ones who're reliable.

They are like a true family.

-

But family - they are people who care.

People who support you.

People who you love and cherish.

One may be dim; but they are still family.

#original poetry #original poem #my poem #poetry #mental health poem #family poem

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carelinewrite · 2 years

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When I’m craving nostalgia

I order butter pecan at the scoopery, bake delicious desserts using Grandma’s old recipes.

I lick the caramel portion of a crème-filled cake preferred by Mom although I like buttery lemon.

Extra slow, I’ll sip a chocolate malt like Dad mastered long ago.

Doritos are orange and Paul.

Hot sauce is Mike.

Once in a while, I dip into someone else’s favorite, in attempt to experience the world through their senses,

to feel they’re in the same space with me again, like how we used to gather at the table

after work and school and play

and all.

May 30

- Caroline Wright

#poetry #poem #family #family poem #poetic #nostalgia #short poem #spilled poetry #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #poets on tubmlr #writeblr community #poems and poetry #carelinewrite

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voicesandthoughts · 1 year

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She stands on golden land with heavy shoes

The valleys sown with blood reflected only sometimes, in the moon

She wears the foreign violence of her homeland like armor

Trying to shield herself from the father, and every other marauder

Her true mother's hands blanket walks down the shore

Knowing here, at this lake before, that the bloodied gold was all but half the color whom made her

They always came here to paint together,

but the woman above would point out a turtle with her brush

"You see it's shell? Misshapen and intruding as the evening stormcloud while the others, they are worth my canvas"

Though, you know, the clouds were always pretty

Stretching wide and broken forms still showering the needy

Like the cloud cursed shell, I was never worth the canvas, nor her time

but time to time to boast of public love or encourage private studies

Far too scared to ask, I prayed for god to address my needs, please

though one day my chest was the canvas for her long and rusted nails

Leaving me to run my hand over every place she impaled as she kicked back ales

I'd rather be forgotten than made an art that wasn't my own

and so I went somewhere else

Somewhere I could forget how to be

I think the bacteria still lives in me, even here, seeping into fresh tears ("t-air")

It grows an infection and turns my thoughts into hotels

We both have asked, what the fuck is wrong with me

I think there's always something I can't quite see

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lovebetweenthelines · 2 years

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I want to move on so badly, I’m so ready to finally live,

To make advancements in life that let me be happy & free.

But I’m so busy holding onto the things that hold me back,

That I’m just being torn in half and left damaged instead.

#the ghost #poem #poetry #my poetry #unfinished #mentally tired #i’m gonna go cry now.#friendship poem #relationship poems #short poem #original poem #family poem #personal poetry

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feyasthepoet · 2 years

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Death

Flowers will wilt and fade As memories bleed away

Follow alongside the graves Marked in shallow words Spewing curses to the damned left breathing

Taste the seething sun's light in the dew Watch as hair like threads of golden snow Fall to the autumn leaves as she weeps

Her heart shines a divine platinum Weaving fractured memories of a smiling mother

Witness as the threads of the abyss wiggle in like maggots Shattering away the fragrant memories Into relentless curses of times never again Leaving only pale tears

#Feyas Poetry #poems and poetry #poetry #writers and poets #poets on tumblr #poet #original poems #Family poem #Poem of loss

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apnaran · 1 year

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The Power of Family and Friends: A Look at the Unbreakable Bond of Love

Mother Mother, oh mother, Your love is like no other, Warm and pure, it shines like the sun, Guiding and nurturing, never done. Your gentle touch, your tender kiss, Bring comfort and happiness, Your strength and wisdom, always near, Allaying every fear. Through every trial and every pain, You remain a constant, shining flame, A rock to lean on, a guiding light, Showing us what’s true and…

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#BROTHER POEM #FAMILY POEM #FATHER POEM #MOTHER POEM #POEM #The Power of Family and Friends

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hrokkall · 5 months

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"Sad Cat Poem" by Spencer Madsen

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grendel-menz · 9 months

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crying in my room rn actually .

#art #my art #poetry #poem #sisterhood #family #I’ll turn this into a comic probably and refine it #im just sitting here homesick at 2am

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localfriendofdorthy · 1 year

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rot

my body is rotting from the inside, i do not know how much longer i can stand. there is a fruit fly where my brain should be. it is buzzing it is buzzing it is buzzing. the fruit of girlhood has soured, the juice drips down my arms. no longer is it sweet, just sticky, uncomfortable. the seed has expanded but the skin cannot follow, so the fruit falls. i cannot escape this corpse inside of me, a life lived. do i outgrow her or do i kill her? i taste something bitter, the stench of death is coming from myself. i pity the rotten.

#poetry #poets on tumblr #queer poems #queer poets on tumblr #transgender #trans artist #trans poem #richard siken #family poem

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