Tumpik
#spilled poetry
thepersonalquotes · 2 days
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sujaayyyyy · 2 days
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I've become passive. I don't invent, I don't yearn. I manage, I cope.
—Susan Sontag, As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh
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moonyloonywitch · 2 days
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Sometimes you meet someone.
And suddenly all your poems are about them.
I am tired of writing about you.
But I can't seem to write about anything else.
I can't make you perfect, because you're not.
Yet all the lines I have ever written are full of love.
For you, I guess.
Because ever since we met,
my heart has always spoken your name.
In whispers, and then as songs.
Now in paintings and poems,
your existence sprawls across the walls of my house.
I only realised that it was love,
when pastel yellows became too beautiful to ignore.
Stupid thing love,
making me wait and hope,
when all this time you never were here.
I feel like I am inside a snow globe,
enchanted to stay a happy sight forever.
But deep within the walls of my heart and soul,
the winter of your absence has turned an ugly grey.
The snow no longer pure and white,
but tinted with the fading colours of my heartbreak,
and the lost yellows of your smile.
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loveme--lustme · 2 days
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I don't need to think, my mind wanders your trail, my hands follow absently. You would fly south for the summer if you knew how I was loving you.
loveme--lustme
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sonreyes · 2 days
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the waves are restless they are breaking apart everything floorboards and the memories stained under bringing them back to the sea
the tide rises higher until they reach the floorboards of a house you once knew
breaking off furniture and frame waves slowly flooding the halls where you once ate dinner
lapping at your feet as you close the door for the last time there are memories here buried treasure under the floorboards you didn’t know it was buried in sand waiting to be washed away
Christmas morning the lights flicker until they short circuit as the waves tear down the walls
these are your memories fading into salty air something once stood here there used to be warmth
and now its washing away before you had a chance to realize the shores have been shifting under your feet only a makeshift cross remains to signify something important stood here
//washed away By: alec prado// //Photo Courtesy: Alex RP on Instagram//
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academic-nyctophile · 4 months
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- Beau Taplin
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iambrillyant · 13 days
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“it’s a beautiful thing to be understood, but a powerful thing to understand yourself.”
— iambrillyant
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tulipsofthemorning · 1 month
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poeticdarkness · 4 months
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She’s a ten but anytime she’s going through a hard time, she automatically reads and listens to music all day because she would rather escape this world and focus on other peoples sorrow and problems than her own.
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misscrappy · 4 months
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That feminine urge this, masculine urge that ….
Yeah, okay , cool
But what about the Lunar urge to ritualistically disappear every couple of weeks ?
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thepersonalquotes · 8 hours
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sujaayyyyy · 2 days
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“𝑊ℎ𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑: 𝑎𝑚 𝐼 𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛?”
—Clarice Lispector, The Hour of the Star
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psychastria · 7 months
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simran, full of emptiness
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poeticallybitter · 1 year
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I like broken people, they always have a unique way of seeing things.
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academic-nyctophile · 2 months
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No artist tolerates reality
- Nietzsche
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