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littlethoughtsat3am · 7 months

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I run from grief until it finds me one day making dinner alone in my apartment, and something about the way the dishes clatter reminds me of your laugh

And it consumes me

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thisispoetrybyamyy · 1 month

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My heart kinda aches when you're talking to someone else. Can't wait for our turn again

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adhdandcomics · 2 years

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if you don’t like poetry or think it doesn’t make sense you should look at a poet’s notes app titled ‘ideas’. you haven’t begun to see the horrors of poetry

#same for any writing but this is just the kind of writing i do #at least my comics ideas doc makes more sense to some extent. they jsut arent funny yet #poetry? WHOLE different ball game. best part of making word art is the fuckin NONSENSE you come up with at 3am and write down in a haze.#the best prt is when it turns into a good poem anyway. but by god theres some horrific writing in that doc #poetry #yeah yeah not on topic but ive talked about writing here before so technically yes #it is #also i stole some of these words from tamsyn muir ‘u havent begun to see the horrors of love’. fuckin A sentence

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lua-pele · 1 month

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Your beauty lights up my night as your soft glow soothes my soul. Yet it cant fill the void, for i long for the sun that vanish at dusk.

"Full Moon"

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felixxthefrog · 3 months

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i used to wonder what it was like on the other side

all they spoke of was hell

fire, brimstone, pain

darkness

loneliness

that is what they told me of the other pastures

what they showed me

as they lectured lifeless from the pulpit

if i'd known what the other side really looked like

i might've left sooner

(i wish i would have known)

sleepy sunday mornings

under the softest blankets

drinking in the honey sun that streams through the blinds

staying home and just existing

(do you think they know what it's like?)

a dim room filled with friends

floating two inches off the ground once the gin burn fades

stifled giggles and giddy conversations

swaying to the music

all of us together, no longer alone

(this is my sanctuary)

what it is to sing with no purpose, with only love for myself

screaming the lyrics i once hid from my parents

broken harmonies

mending souls, hearts, minds

not worrying about closed eyes and raised hands

just headphones in the kitchen

and the taste of her cherry chapstick

(this is my worship)

the pleasure of food

the pleasure of self

the pleasure of sleeping in the same bed

warm bodies tangled together, pressed against each other, desperate

in a wordless understanding of comfort and care

(this is what saves me)

what it's like to live without the pressures of hemlines

and necklines

and sleeves

without wondering if it's bad how much you touch

or how pretty her lips are from across the room

not caring if they see you at that place they deemed demonic

or if they see you gazing longingly when she shows off her new dress

(i'm not afraid anymore)

not of lips

and stomachs

and noses bumping together

and fluttering breath

her nails digging into my back

her drunken kisses sobered me

(this is what heaven is like)

not to listen to a booming voice from the heavens

nor from the stage

only the quiet ones in my heart

and the kind ones around me

(i wish god had sounded like this)

the butterflies at hearing those words that feel true

to who and what i am

the labels, but not the bad ones

not the guilt trips, just the words i chose to depict my truest self

the words i chose to show my colors in all their beauty

the way i want them

the people that i chose

not out of obligation

but the ones who love me, the ones who truly care

(they are my congregation)

being guiltless and reckless

and full of questions

but not the ones that make me worry

the weightless freedom of insignificance

and indifference

and not being scared.

-what they didn't tell me about the other side

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spilledinkandtears · 9 months

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I hated biscuits. Could never stand them. But then one day I bought some to get change for the washing machine and you thought I liked them. So you kept on buying them for me, and I grew to love biscuits. (Via @spilledinkandtears )

He is my love

#spilled ink #spilled words #extracts from a book i'll never write #spilled tears #excerpt from a story i'll never write #i love him #3am thoughts #excerpt from my life #unrequited feelings #spilled thoughts #excerpt from a book i'll never write #poets on tumblr #3 am poetry

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mr-illusion-ice · 2 months

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I told this girl that i loved her but i don't think it's true. The only one im sure I've ever loved is you.

I'm not even sure if I know what love is, but If i do, then that's the way i feel about you.

We barely even talk now. It's scary how, even after a this time, I still remember your favorite flower, your mom's birthday and the way your eyes used to make me feel. Still remember the way you like your coffee, your favorite color and your favorite band.

I just wish you'd never left. I wish you were still in my life. The truth is i don't even know why you left. And it kills me. I don't know if I did something wrong or if it's just time being cruel as it's used to be.

For all it's worth, somethings never change, you're the one, my favorite person, always been, always will be.

I love you, superstar.

#feelings #writing #heartbreak #im in pain #love quotes #3am thoughts #life quotes #in love with my best friend #i love you #Even if you don't love me back #i miss you #spiled ink #spilled poetry #spilled thoughts #spilled writing #i need you

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literary-corvid · 6 months

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I am a patchwork quilt of everyone I've ever loved

I’ve always been drawn to flowers. I could never remember why, even when I named myself after one. (My first ever friend was called Rosie. I was always envious - how full of life she seemed to be!)

I feel a faint sense of dread when I go to clasp a necklace. Only sometimes does my conscious mind drift to her, and it is only then that I wonder if she ever took hers off. I never consider that she was lying. If it wasn’t the glue around that clasp, it was something else that stayed like a noose around her neck.

I wear my watch on my right wrist. I am not left-handed, but the sister who put her watch on my hand when I was three was. It was blue and plastic and cheap but it became mine. She beamed at me: now I’ll always be able to tell you the time! I didn’t bother to learn how to read its analog face for the longest time. I had a reason to keep asking her that way.

I stumble on a word I haven’t memorized, or I teach a younger student how to pronounce that letter combination, and suddenly I am in primary, sitting on a white rug as my second sister gently sounds out the words in front of us. My parents beam at me that night as I say a new word right, and I proudly tell them how my sister taught me. It was all her, I would say. Look how Good I must be for her to love me.

A scar graces my left knee. It looks old and worn, like nothing, but sometimes I see her fingerprint there, as if the gloves she wore when mopping up my blood had vanished. She told me later, when she poured the disinfectant on two instead of three, that it would fade, that someday I would forget. I’m glad she was wrong. I sent her a message a few years ago, and never heard back. But I see her profile sometimes, and how she sees my stories. We grew apart. I’m trying to learn that that’s okay, but I still wonder if she ever misses me. I see her out of the corner of my eye when my knee throbs with a dull, faint pain. I miss her, but at least her fingerprint remains.

On my thirteenth birthday, and for many birthdays after, an alarm on my phone would go off, reminding me to go train dolphins with a sister. I deleted it years ago. I regret it every time it never rings.

I’ve always remembered when Earth Day is. My schools have always made a day of it. But now, on April 22nd, I think not of the earth, but of my twin flame. On that day, I give my thanks to the earth, for I was born of her, but I spend my life loving her. For a year, I was coaxed with sickly sweet words away from her; away from everyone. When I was back, there was no question of if she would welcome me, even through my guilt. She is the one who stayed by me, helped me up, loved me. Who keeps loving me, as I keep loving her.

I prick my finger as I sew, and each time I remember how she would chastise me, reminding me to wear a thimble. And each time, I smile and say I’m fine. I understand better, though, when she cuts herself on the tape dispenser and I carefully tear tape for her the rest of the year.

When I sew on the machine, though, I never feel quite sure of myself. It goes to fast, faster than I can think, with more strength than I am sure of. So when I inevitably fuck up, I smile, remembering her laugh as she pretends to groan at how long it will take to undo, thank god I know better than to start with a backstitch. I know that she is reminding me that it can be undone, no matter how tedious. Stitch by stitch, I fix what I’ve ruined.

I tell people I love them so easily. Anyone who changes my life, even in the smallest of ways, I cannot bear the thought of them not knowing. They say to live each day like it's your last, but they're wrong, it's not you that matters: live each day like it's their last. Loving in secret is a special torment when the guilt feels crushing. I never told him. I never can. I hope he knew, I’m sure he knew how much he was loved. Right? He knew? Tell me he knew. Please.

I go shopping, and absentmindedly look for the good apples - the ones that crunch, that tear sharply, that are just perfectly sweet or bitter. Sometimes I don’t realize until I get home and have apples I probably won’t eat. I offer them to my friends instead, because my partner is states away. They laugh when I send them the pictures, though, and tell me to eat one in their honor. I do.

There are some things I can’t see without itching to gift. Penguins and owls and squirrels and bird and those godforsaken minions and coffee and turtles and irises and this one shade of blue– I’ve left with glass hummingbirds in my pocket before realizing I have no one to give it to.

I’m not in tears over my homework, but I would be if I were alone. Instead, it hits 10:00pm - 22:00, just for them - and it’s done. It’s over and I can’t go back and they're asking for my three favorite candies and I’m thrown because I want to sob - with relief or stress, I’m not sure - but they say they’re going to get me some. Because they’re proud of me. Like it’s obvious. And when they learn I’ve never had any chocolate candy, they come back with a handful. I split the KitKat and hand them half and they watch me, some mix of delight and horror in their eyes, as they halve the Twix and Milky Way and York for us to share. I’m laughing at an irony they don’t see; it blends into every other joy here. So this is it, I think. This is what it’s like.

I keep thinking about the things I do and the parts of me that aren't as much me as they are them or us. I love carrying those people with me, mostly. There's things from friends who've died, and it hurts sometimes. I hope it stays with me, though - the grief, the pain. I don't want it to get easier because I don't want to forget them. I don't think I've actually dealt with anything that happened in the last six years, give or take? And it's all been hitting at once for the past year-ish. So, this is for the friends who are gone or lost to me, and to those who still let me love them.

I've had no less than three interactions that prompted me to actually post this within the last 24 hours, so thanks to @firefliesandfuckery and @judas-redeemed and @vanilla-cigarillos and everyone else for that!

#corvid waxes poetic #prose poem #prose #poetry #humanity <3 #on love #did i stay up until 3am writing this #thats for me to know and you to not find out #grief #tw blood

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sleepyhollowgirlsworld · 5 months

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My dearest whatever,

I cannot fathom why you would lie so; "one day, one day," you convince me to stay, with promises of love you cannot keep. "I ache for you, I long for you," or so you say. You say that I am yours but never that you're mine, so why must we go round and round and round and round until the end of time--or at least until we tear each other apart, or you tear out my heart. I'd tear it out myself and serve it to you warm and fresh and bloody with my love. I'd do anything you asked me to, for you, my sweet, the one I bleed to love.

unfortunately, yours

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anku007 · 8 months

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Oh Darling!!

Oh Darling, I can’t wait, To see your radiant face. To gaze into those beautiful eyes. To touch your aromatic skin. To hold your face in my hand.

Oh Darling I can’t wait, To breathlessly kiss your moist lips. To feel your tongue painted upon mine. To quench the desires of our parched souls.

Oh Darling I can’t wait, To drown myself into you. To forget about the world. To get lost in for eternity .

Oh Darling I can’t wait , To love you with endless love !!!

#love #poetry #incomplete lovestory #beauttiful girls #i thought of this at 3am #3am poetry #morning love #you are poetry #started writing again #new love #early morning yearning #you are so beautiful #love poem #missingyou #endless love #poeticstories

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heartshapedcas · 2 years

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For @theend4‘s poetry event<3 inspired by Fragment 147 by Sappho, also a little influenced by this post

transcript below

In another time -

two girls under an almost clear sky

and a thousand angel eyes.

watching over them

I knew

grass stained and holy

hands clasped

and known in the in between

that I would not forget

I tell all of this to you

here, with your moss soft eyes lit by low tv light

here, where we didn't notice the credits start to roll

I need you to know, even if I can't say it

this moment is worthy of remembrance too

#idk how i feel about this and idk if it makes sense tbh #BUT i had a lot of fun trying to write something with a poem as inspiration and I love this one from sappho<3 #thanks egan for doing this poetry event it is really cool<3 #maddy.words #sorry for posting at 3am djfhdjkfhd

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littlethoughtsat3am · 7 months

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It’s not that I miss you less

Now that time has passed since I’ve lost you

It’s like walking with a limp

I have merely learned to live with it’s existence

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thisispoetrybyamyy · 1 month

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You shine so bright, all the other stars fade away. I only have eyes for you

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imto-osensitive · 15 days

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my tears could fill up the oceans

my empty eyes could fit whole galaxies in them

the gaping hole in my chest was once

where you lay your head

look what you’ve done

you’ve gone and left a dent

i try to fill it with cigarettes and cheap poison

nothing does it anymore

you used to be my world

now it just spins without you in it

where do i go from here?

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kabhi-kabhi-aditii · 2 months

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just a little smthing i had in the drafts

i hate that somedays, i stay up and think cry about for us; everything what we were and what we could've been and what we are now and somedays, i wish i never met you or that i didn't acknowledge your existence presence the way i did but somedays, the mere thought of you it lingers in the back of my mind but brings out up nothing no emotions no outcomes nothing positive, nothing negative they bring me a strange sense of calm but only god knows how much i dread those days (when i can't see your face) -rebekah

#poetry i write at 3am #words words words #poetrycommunity #female poets #the tortured poets department #just another tortured poet #original poetry

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albertxylin · 3 months

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Panned Out

I stare at a page of disconnected thoughts, Trying to pan gold out of dirt. There is none, Not a single shining speck. I plant a seed instead.

#2539 #absolute writer's block #well more like it's 3am and I am dead tired and can't think of anything #writing #original poem #poetry #spoken word #poem #spoken word poetry #daily poem #poems

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