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#home & other poems
iced-flower-pot · 3 months
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Have you never stood to regard our home from its farthest corner?
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Would you really want our home to be without it?
💖
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maeo-png · 7 months
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Simon Petrikov, Healing, Self-love, and a smidge more of Greek mythology if you really squint
“Ulysses” poem excerpt by Alfred Tennyson // Fionna and Cake Episode 10 “Cheers” // “Exitlude” by The Killers // “Cheers” // “Talk To Me” by cavetown // “a poem traveled down my arm” by Alice Walker // “Cheers” // “Ulysses” book by James Joyce
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shehasfallennn · 7 days
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of course i can live without you.
i just think i'd live brighter—better if we're together though.
Rie Jules
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corpsentry · 2 months
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here i give u poem or wtv
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asoftepiloguemylove · 11 months
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Hi, I just wanted to say I really love your account. And I wanted to know if you’re still taking web weaving requests? If you are, could you please do one on loneliness or just feeling very alone and separated in your friendships/other people? (I hope I explained that correctly) If you don’t that’s okay, thank you.
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hi !! i leave my inbox open for reqs and i try to post them as soon as possible when i do get them. it means a lot that you like my account, i hope you're doing well <33
Rainer Maria Rilke Rilke's Book of Hours / Marina Tsvetaeva On Love / The Smiths I Know It's Over / @paralysing-sadness / Jaakko Pallasvuo / Carol Rifka Brunt Tell the Wolves I'm Home / @sweatermuppet / Natalie Wee Our Bodies & Other Fine Machines / Heather Havrilesky Ask Polly: Help! I'm the Loneliest Person in the World!
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whitedahlia13 · 4 months
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Our eyes made love to each other long beforehand… you were something that felt so new yet so familiar to me, like a place I have never been but somehow never left, I think I have known you my whole life, and loved you awhile longer.
- N.R. Hart
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andiv3r · 2 months
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19hey. T
20ll. A
21o. G
6hy. W
8. I
10ormal. N
17 .
7an't. C
2ove. L
3s. I
9e. B
1y. M
12e. H
15f. O
16e. M
18ventually. E
11 ...
13s. I
10ure. S
4nsufferable. I
14ired. T
5 ...
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cashmere-caveman · 11 months
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Christian Wiman, Darkness Starts | S1E6, Bad Moon Rising | S2E8, All God‘s Children | Ian Strange, Suburban Intervention | S1E6, Bad Moon Rising | S1E3, Ghost Town | Christina Marie Brown, Ghost I
#being human#annie sawyer#would u believe me if i said i actually meant to finish my 'monsters embody the possibility of failing' mitchell post and instead made this#if it seems incomplete thats bc i only used sceenshots i already had instead of rewatching and taking new ones where fitting bc im lazy#but god i love when being human leans into the whole gothic ~u are the house and the house is u~ storyelling angle#one day i'll make my annie post (this is the annie house post) and then it'll be even more appropriate but !!!#the house as horror !!!! the home as the place of violence instead of the shelter from it !!!#also annie not letting go of the house bc it was the last place she was a real person !!!#the house not letting go of her bc it stores and remembers everything she herself is incapable of remembering !!!#she is the house but also her own person but also that place is so intrinsically hers that to the others it IS her#(to some extend at least)#also owen not taking care of the house as he didnt take care of annie.#but also any and all parallels between mitchells later sometimes v agressive behaviour and owens abuse#the bristol house tainted by annies death and the welsh house tainted by the bt20....#wheres that one poem thats like if u were raised in a house w an angry man there will alwas be an angry man inside your house#and even if there isnt u invite him in#sickening. anyway these tags have deviated so extremely fucking far from the post sorry lads insomnia makes me ramble#once again i present u: me thinking abt a show that went on air fifteen years ago as if it had finished yesterday. enjoy#being human uk#cavetext#triothesis#caveweb
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born-to-lose · 4 months
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I know the working conditions were kinda shitty and my colleagues and bosses didn't appreciate me enough but damn I miss the bar already 😭
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the-blathermouth · 1 year
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Windows
I love looking into their eyes
They are windows to the soul
Your gaze can say a lot
About your person as a whole
Barnaby, Julie and Sally's windows are stained
Pretty, colorful and fun
And everyone simply adores
How they sparkle in the sun
Frank and Howdy's windows are just that
Plain clear glass all the way
But they're still lovely to look through
On a bright and sunny day
Eddie's windows are dirty
They really need a shine
Sometimes it's hard for even him
To see through all the grime
I cannot see through Wally's windows
And he will not look back
I understand
For after all
It's hard to see through cracks
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dailyeca · 7 months
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sometimes i think that i should be putting him in more complex compositions and dynamic poses and cool outfits and color palettes and pretty rendering and detailed backgrounds and more characters and story-driven comics and personal meaning
and then im like. that's the fucking devil talking. dailyeca is and always was supposed to be a low maintenance blog where i draw an eca a day and this eca can be the most scribbled motherfucker in da world but as long as there's a daily eca then i've succeeded. when i have time to add cool shit i can absolutely do that but even if he's just a sketched up bust shot at 11:59, i'm doing enough because that's just dailyeca babey.
#eca orichird#daily eca#we do what we can. i am doing enough.#for a lot of other things i always feel the need to make masterpieces; art larger than myself and my scope; something with heart and soul.#dailyeca is truly like. not everything has to be perfect. this is my grimy grumpy little asshat and i can do whatever the fuck i want.#(including cursing because goddamnit i am no one's pure little angel baby anymore. i am not here for your judgement anymore.)#im not trying to impress anyone here. dailyeca has always been art for me first. i never truly announced this blog in the beginning.#if no one looked i'd still do it. i draw this angry lonely boy for me. if other people want to see i appreciate it but that's secondary.#that one tumblr poem post. ''you say 'it’s my villain era''' by ridinkskinned. sometimes i feel like making eca was my villain era.#what i mean is that sometimes people hate things when they hit too close to home. what i mean is when i first made eca i felt repulsed.#i can be angry and rude and imperfect and alone. i don't need to facade or fawn or listen at all times and be the perfect little nobody.#i can be flawed and i can still be important and i can still have a happy ending and have people love me without need to change me.#i wrote that i wanted to draw ecas with more personal meaning but every eca posted is a personal meaning in of itself.#you get it. (you probably don't. but that's fine. that's secondary.) i should work on creator and creation again.
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beemintty · 1 month
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i am afraid of alcohol...
i am afraid of what it does to people....
i have sworn my whole life that i will never get drunk and i swear it loud.
people have laughed in my face at such a promise i make, but i'll have you know that i will not allow such poison to take control of me.
because that is what it does, it loosens your control on yourself like it loosens your tongue.
you'll tell me to "relax", "settle down", "have a drink", "what's the worst that could possibly happen?!"
no you're right, it isn't the worst to find yourself making out with someone you don't love, or having sex with a stranger, or falling off a ledge, or getting a bit hurt, or ending up in the hands of the police or the hospital, or spilling your secrets, so what's the problem?
what if i stepped behind a wheel... what if i drove without seeing? what if my sister was my passenger, or my partner, or my best friend? what if someone was coming home to their daughter that night, or their cat, or their dad? what if i drove right into them at 100 km/h? what if i survived? and what if they didn't?
this is what that poisonous drink does.
it makes you do things without seeing.
so what's the worst that could happen you ask?someone doesn't get home and i walk away with blood on my hands.
i will never drink enough to let it root in my brain and make me a murderer.
and if i ever do.... i hope it kills me before i kill anyone else.
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mechieonu · 9 months
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"You can be an angel!" and it's double meanings currently make me go insane bc for crowley, it sounds like an invitation he should want bc he's "good enough" for it and someone's deigning to give it to him, (but we ALL know that's the last thing aziraphale could MEAN it as) but to AZIRAPHALE it's the chance to do something that's never been done before. it's not about bringing crowley back into the fold as a former disgraced prince of heaven but to make the place perfect for the both of them and for everyone, bc it's clear that heaven has an institutional problem, and wouldn't it be perfect if they could be happy together in a place they made their own? but i don't think he realizes that they already have a place like that
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hurryupmerlin · 2 months
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Shhhh, hörst du das? Hörst du das Gemunkel? Um dich wird es dunkel. In deinem Kopf dreh'n sich die Gedanken Bringen dich zum wanken. Geschichten um die sich Dramen ranken Nie erzählt und doch gekannt. Oh, du lauscht gebannt. Die Angst der and'ren tut dir nicht gut Doch es nährt die Glut Die das Feuer entfacht, das dich anlacht, Einladend und warm. Es nimmt dich in den Arm Und verbrennt dich mit seiner Zärtlichkeit. Dein letztes Geleit führst du selbst an. Du hast dich entschieden Und wirst kriegen Was dein Kopf dir befiehlt das richtig wäre. Es ist dir keine Lehre. Du trinkst Gift wie süßen Wein Doch dein Durst wird nie gestillt sein. Armes Kind, wer soll dich jetzt noch retten? Das Schloss für deine Ketten Wiegt schwerer noch als selbst dein Herz. Du kannst nicht mit noch ohne Schmerz.
Shhhh, do you hear that? Do you hear the murmur? It's getting dark around you. Your head is spinning with thoughts. They make you waver. Stories entwined with dramas Never told and yet known. Oh, you listen spellbound. The fear of others does you no good But it feeds the embers that kindle the fire Which laughs at you. Inviting and warm. It takes you in its arms. And burns you with its tenderness. You lead your last escort yourself. You have made your decision And will get what your head tells you is right. It is no lesson to you. You drink poison like sweet wine. But your thirst will never be quenched. Poor child, who will save you now? The lock for your chains weighs more than even your heart. You cannot live with or without pain.
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spikybanana · 2 years
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"where are you from?"
I look around bewilderedly
looking for the storm that brought me here
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rent, asunder, in no storm, no fanfare
I crack silently. splitting apart
from a fault that might have started in my skull
or the sole of my feet
I've walked and walked on no ground
I'm flailing in air
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roots had once trailed behind me
sprinkling soil into the air
until they too had worn down to nothing
here I am left
mute
I've lost my voice to the wind
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where are you from?
I'm from nowhere at all.
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awyldepoetry · 1 year
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Excited to announce that I was so taken with the poems I wrote for National Poetry Writing Month this April, that I decided to turn them into a chapbook! Despite having written poems since the age of 9, this is the FIRST chapbook I have ever released.
This limited run of physical copies will include only 50 chapbooks, each one printed and folded with love by me, and each chapbook is numbered and signed.
www.awylde.com/store to purchase www.awylde.com/free-downloads to download & print free
Cover art by the incomparable Ashe Walker <3
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