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the-soulwhispers · 9 months

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C.S. Lewis once wrote,

"I sat with my anger long enough until she told me her real name was grief"

And I think we all needed to hear that.

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abbiemhart · 8 months

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i have spent my whole life waiting,

and unfortunately,

it seems it will stay that way.

#creative writing #depressing poem #love poem #love poetry #new poets society #on writing #original poem #poems #poems and poetry #poems and quotes #poetry #poemsofinstagram #short poem

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poemsbysafia · 2 months

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وہ سلسلے ، وہ شوق ، وہ نسبت نہیں رہی ، وہ دِل نہیں رہا ، وہ طبیعت نہیں رہی .

Wo silsiley, wo shauq, wo nisbat nahi rahi, wo dil nahi raha, wo tabiyat nahi rahi.

#writeblr #urdu poetry #urdu lines #urdu literature #urdu shayari #poemsofinstagram #poetscommunity #spilled ink #writing prompts #poets corner #books #fiction #novel #fantasywriting

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yulia-inferis · 11 days

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I Assume For The Worst

I Assume For the worst

And Hope for the best

When strangers tell me words

That seem so far fetched

They tell you dreams they wish to spew

As reality tangled up as half-truths

It's easy to lie to someone new

When they eagerly buy any story you choose

Subtly it turns to subtle regret

When there's nowhere to turn when they unlock your mindset

As they hint you toward A socializing debt

For the not so free time we've already have spent

So time reveals the hidden things they spill

As suggestions, accidents, or sorrys until

You mark a no as a line in the sand

From the very thing they wish they could have

Some will retreat and some will fight back

Some will manipulate you into saying a yes

Some will go home and tell everyone trash

Some will accept and hope for the best

The best you can do is relax and think fast

Play the life that you own like a chessboard in fact

Everyone's out for their own selfish tasks

With little to stop them from abusing what you lack

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letterstomonkey · 7 months

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I am Second

I am a hearth first and a threshold second.

I am a fire first and an Irish exit second.

I emanate warmth at first, with one foot crossing the threshold from the first posed question-

I’m gone in a second.

I didn’t know what a hearth was,

Until I knew, that blood too creates a spectacle of art upon my face,

I know a fireplace does not insinuate a warm place,

and an audience doesn’t imitate the heart-to-heart I always chase.

Artists don’t know anything, except for how to create space

To perceive and be perceived;

I am an artist second, and first

A literary receptacle, or

A candlelit canticle, or

A memory semantical; I am

A digression indigestible.

I’m fascinated by perspective, popcorn and rare pennies,

My grandma’s orange lilies, and your lack of spatial awareness around me.

I named a garden after myself, and I damned every root and bud yet to bloom to Eternal Internal suffering.

I read aloud my words, then cleanse my teeth with antifreeze,

I bake inedible pastries for the sake of constant fleeting company.

Fringe jacket sleeves depict perfectly

my fear of touching what is forbidden, not realizing until it is too late.

I love Christmas, for I specialize in giving my gifts away recklessly

Abandoning myself,

And I am at home because I know how to do something right when I am second.

I still need permission to enter a room first, I beg for mercy over every mess I make.

I keep my blinds closed, wondering how to be perceived, comfortably.

I keep my door closed, wondering

Who will be the first to leave with the best of me?

If my words are my favorite part of me, then

What am I worth when they’re working against me?

I never wanted to become wild, when

I was seeking forgiveness before permission,

I was spoken to like a child as

My seeking acceptance gave way to remission.

I’m a teacher’s pet, and I’m not sorry for that.

I love learning and I hate being my biggest distraction.

I was a teacher’s pet until they introduced me to fractions.

I wanted to be a teacher until they all

Reduced me to a distraction wearing jean shorts.

They spoke their intentions, and

Eventually I learned to savor such adult attention.

Why do we keep pretending to care about intentions?

How they litter tainted, moral principle remnants?

I still don’t know if I have ever been a good friend.

I have yet to remember not to reach for bread and butter across the dinner table

When I eat with my elbows on the table, I think of my grandmother,

how I love her without needing anything from her,

how I have come to accept people that do not accept me.

Morally obligated intentions haunt my ancestry, but lightning struck my family tree.

It ends with me.

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wordlessea · 1 year

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#poetry #spilled thoughts #love #poem #poems #spilled ink #writings #prose #poet #spilled poem #poetic #longing #lit #love poem #poemsofinstagram #poetries #poeticstories #quotes

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inallvoidness · 10 days

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I will remember my love for you,

for the both of us.

Forever etched -

a soft spot in my heart.

15042024, 2:24 AM

#poem #original post #poetry #love poem #original poetry #literature #poemsofinstagram #love poetry #original poem #poetryofinstagram #unrequited love #unrequited romance

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herandherheartache · 7 months

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#sexy content #poets on tumblr #my poetic life #writers on tumblr #writing #poemsofinstagram #my writing #writing hours #poetry #artists on tumblr #poetic #complex ptsd #actually ptsd #tw ptsd #ptsd recovery

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caramelcuppaccino · 2 years

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never been kissed by natalie wee.

#saw this and almost cried #what i needed to hear honestly #such a beautiful poem #lunlunstexts #poemsofinstagram #poem quotes #poem of the day #poem #poems and poetry #poems on tumblr #love poem #sad poem #natalie wee #poetry quotes #poetry #dark academia #dark academia aesthetic

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anbukarasi · 8 months

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How did you know you were in love with me ?

Did your heart skip a beat ? Like in the movies?

"No", it didn't skip a beat

It finally learnt how to breathe .

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poetic-spot · 2 years

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Dear dad,

We didn’t alway see eye to eye

We went years without speaking

I am much my fathers daughter

Stubborn

We always forgave each other

And even though we didn’t always say sorry

We knew we were

Because I am my fathers daughter

Stubborn and apologetic.

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the-soulwhispers · 1 year

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The hopeless romantic urge to look at the moon and stars, forever.

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writings-of-the-cosmos · 3 months

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And I would choose you; In a hundred lives, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I would find you and choose you.

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poemsbysafia · 23 days

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“Godhood is just like girlhood; a begging to be believed.”

- Kristin Chang, from “Churching”, published in the Up the Staircase Quarterly.

#writeblr #spilled ink #poetscommunity #poemsofinstagram #poets corner #writing prompts #books #fiction #fantasywriting #novel

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yulia-inferis · 30 days

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Porn Is A Mans Best Friend

Porn is a mans best friend Whether alone or within his girlfriend Inside her fleshlight adversary Or as her dildo mortuary Adding to his fleshlight cemetary On a swipe away for the next veiled arbitrary For when the best of friends he can have is porn Is when the sanctity of intimacy is halved and torn

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letterstomonkey · 7 days

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Breakfast or Lunch

I love you like breakfast while loathing you like lunch;

Craving clarity with my first bite of today, a blend

of your strawberries melted in my honey, granola crunch

Residual and golden, how you and the morning transcend.

A swift, morning apple is my foundation for the day,

As a tight grip on your gaze starts me off the beaten path.

Surrounded by fine art, yet my hands beg me to portray

Your hands cupping coffee, as steam rises from the birdbath.

So scatter my remains about the whole backyard by noon,

As if I am your coffee grounds– a mess made just for you.

Slowly sip my ashes, while you reminisce on the moon

How I held you close like she did, until breakfast time was through.

How I love you like my whole life preceding you was blind,

So I welcome you to stay for lunch, should you feel so inclined.

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