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#prose poetry
rawhoneybliss · 2 days
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Things you'll experience in April:
renewed sense of faith
trust in the divine
persistence in your dreams
the will to keep going
support from your guides
beautiful new connections
love from unexpected places
money from unexpected sources
ease on your journey
inner peace and stillness
fun like you've never experienced before
your prayers being answered
a wiser and smarter version of yourself
forgiveness toward self and others
knowing that you're enough
Written by Raw Honey Bliss
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nipsyyy · 1 day
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You like taking care of people because it heals the part of you that wasn’t cared for.
-nipuna
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coffeexxcigarettes · 2 days
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Indiscretion
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I don't believe I was created
To be a bad person.
My soul was forced into this reality,
Burnt by what they called love,
Ripped apart by what you referred to
As family.
To manage the blaze,
I found a flower within the smoke.
A brief reprieve from a world on fire.
You'll have to excuse my sickness;
The way I cough up blood beside you.
To destroy another in the name of
Your own happiness?
I curl beside the flower,
My breathing labored.
It shivers in the destruction.
I don't believe I was created to be
A bad person.
But I don't know if a good person
Would long for the flower,
Rather than fall to the flames.
x
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lbluel-04 · 3 days
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Si algún día bajo la mirada, será para ver cómo me chupan las chichis.
-|BLUE|
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txkingupspxce · 2 days
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i don’t blame you for leaving not anymore I think if i had the choice i’d have gone too be young live build something good i’m glad you got that maybe someday i’ll get that too it’s okay that you chose to be free i chose to be the keeper it’s not on you how things turned out i understand that now i’m sorry too, we did our best maybe they did too
~we weren’t your responsibility, they weren’t mine
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a-dreamersjournal · 3 days
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The Inevitable Downfall.
The tug of war between my constant need to have someone witness me in my misery and the hatred I have for being an object of someone's gaze, has begin to twist my bones and muscles from within.
If no one saw me drowning in pool of my own blood, did I really suffer?
And if I gave my hideously hurt self away to be seen and analysed, what's left for me? What's left of me?
Is dying from exposure of excess poison better than suffocating in absence of air? Or is it the other way around?
And is my downfall, inevitable nonetheless?
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3.25.24
Eternally falling for the ones who don’t have room in their hearts and running away from those that do.
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coldagain · 1 day
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age
I'm growing older,
i can feel it in the slow numbing of my heart,
and the way exhaustion had indented a home in me,
in the way they tell me to suck it up,
(because you're worthless if you don't make them proud)
in the way I can't remember a time I wasn't decaying inside.
but I'm not growing up,
i still dream of fairytales, and dancing with the love of my life
i dream of flowers in a garden I grew in a home I made,
and friends who would stay,
i wish on shooting stars for pirate ships and magic,
swordfights, aliens, and travelling the world.
I'm growing older, but I'm not growing up.
but maybe, just maybe, that's a good thing.
- I survived 17 years on this round ball of gas and mud!!!!!! Here's to hoping that we're all going to be okay. :))
also, with the current rate I'm writing poems, I'm pretty sure I'll burn out in a few days lol.
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lucidloving · 6 months
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@roach-works // Melissa Broder, "Problem Area" // Mary Oliver, "The Return" // @annavonsyfert // Koyoharu Gotouge, Demon Slayer // Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance // David Levithan, How They Met and Other Stories // Tennessee Williams, Notebooks
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reesestshirt · 3 months
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When I was in middle school, I tried to learn how to crochet. I knew how to knit already, so I figured ‘how hard could it be’ and used my Christmas money on a brand new set of aluminum hooks and a how-to book.
To say it was difficult was an understatement. I spent hours pouring over my book, begging to gain some inkling of understanding from what felt like incomprehensible runes. My reward? One lopsided trapezoid of lumpy fabric and a resolve to never pick up a crochet hook again.
And so life went on, I finished middle school and high school without giving crochet so much as a second glance. In college, I read about how crochet couldn’t be replicated by a machine, it was unique in a way that knitting and many other fiber arts weren’t.
For Christmas last year, my girlfriend gave me what I now consider to be my most prized possession: a crocheted plush of my favorite pokemon. I raved over her skills and, since she never learned how to knit, we decided to have a yarn date at some point and teach each other our respective skills.
We never did get around to that yarn date. She passed a few months after our declaration, leaving me to inherit what was left of her yarn.
Nearly a decade after my initial attempt, I got ready for the toughest battle of my life. My weapons? One skein of yarn, a YouTube video, and a crochet hook that I had somehow never gotten rid of.
I slowly made my way through the video, redoing my work a couple times until I was satisfied with my product: a small, slightly misshapen rectangle.
I looked at my pristinely-made pokemon plush with hope for the first time in months and thought to myself, ‘maybe crocheting isn’t the hardest thing in the world, maybe you were just 12.’
Maybe this isn’t the hardest thing in the world. Maybe I’m just 21.
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and-corn · 7 months
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I hope they ask about me & I hope you tell them you fucked up.
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coffeexxcigarettes · 15 hours
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Relapse
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I tied myself shut
With band aids and rubber bands
In that office in the attic.
If the night was cold,
I couldn't feel it.
But I shivered
As I climbed into bed.
Hollow.
Hollow.
Hollow.
x
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nipsyyy · 5 months
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I asked my mother, “how many times can the same thing break my heart?” she said “as long as you love it” and nothing hit me harder than that.
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