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very-unimportant-writings · 2 years

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Reality feels so fake.

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very-unimportant-writings · 2 years

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You are the very best disappointment of my life.

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very-unimportant-writings · 2 years

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I didn’t disappear because I wanted to. I started disappearing when everyone and everything around me started dissipating into dust and dirt. Their graves are right here, safe from ghosts like you.

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very-unimportant-writings · 2 years

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I didn’t disappear because I wanted to. I started disappearing when everyone and everything around me started dissipating into dust and dirt. Their graves are right here, safe from ghosts like you.

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very-unimportant-writings · 2 years

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“You’ll be the death of me.”

“ If I could ever kill you , I’d kill you and name each and every flower to your memory, I’d write books with the ghostly touches that you never gave and I’d leave traces of you in each page. So when death takes me away, people know me as the madman who loved you through death, they’ll know me by your name.”

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very-unimportant-writings · 2 years

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As it was baby

Like you could imagine it this way

The night as dark as

Your eyes when the question hung in the air

Memory of smothered eyes by sinful thoughts

Your shape ,heated and shadowed

Only seen from the light of cars, passing throughout the window

Squirming and quivering in the dim light

Your body like one of a mermaid put to shore

As it was baby

You’re not going to be put to sea

Underneath my touch and in this sandcastle apartment

I’ll show you what this longing is

I’ll paint you with ink

Each time my teeth sink into your skin

Black and blue

Purple and red

You’re the most beautiful painting I’ve ever seen

And I’ll write you again

Papers dipped in letters as the ink settles

I’ll write you like a poem in fall

With coffee stains and sometimes wine

And such a beauty is sparse

Blushing to red

Terrifying like a threat

You’re the most beautiful book I’ve ever read

As it was baby

I can never tell you all that’s in my head

Even if your toes curl or your heart starts to ache

These cigarette burns are going to stay

And you’re the memory to each time I fought death

Because my love

I’m not done yet

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very-unimportant-writings · 2 years

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I wanted a poet to fall in love with me so I could read poems of myself being described from somebody else about how they’d like to kiss me under the moon light and with the witnessing of a thousand roses, while I’m on the balcony in an oversized shirt with a cologne that screams your name.

But look at me, here I am. Talking about you who never sleeps even when I do.

What a dream it could be to wake up from this nightmare.

Name: About you

Friday

September 24

2021

9:40 AM

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very-unimportant-writings · 2 years

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And it's easy though

Would you make love with me?

Despite the power

Which makes us like authorities

Never think about the regret

After we've become cold

Does it matter as long

as there's this warmth flowing?

So let it flow my baby

It's just like the elecreicity

Light or heavy

Still we're flying

To the place nobody has reached

Who knows how my baby reacts

To what I do to him?

Maybe my imaginations weren't so far from reality

As long as he shakes

Under the slight touch of my fingers

I won't need anything else

I'll step backwards

Just to see you follow me

I'll do it until you run to me

I need the image of you wanting me

To keep loving you the way I've been

The violin is playing and still

We manage to dance the way we want

Stubborn and free

Would you dance with me?

No need to ask

You're already following my movements

With the gaze you give me

My toes scratching the floor as you imitate what I’ve been doing

Unconsciously in harmony

Don't let them see this

The sheer love we share

The power in our harmony

Keeps being until it's a secret

Don't stare at me because they'll know

I'll touch you accidentally and you take a glance like you don't care

And it goes on

We're not going to lose

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very-unimportant-writings · 2 years

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Those who never loved this body, alive, will shed countless tears when death finally comes.

#aesthetic #aestheticism #my writing #old writing #writing #mortal shell #i'm dying here #as i lay dying #i was dying #i feel like dying #im dying #dying wish

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very-unimportant-writings · 2 years

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I’m a turning page. You’ll read me and I’ll grieve and grieve and grieve in these papers. I’ll bleed black ink in between a book that remains closed.

- you never asked

#aesthetic #aestheticism #writing #old writing #my writing #everydayart #cheap hotels #hotelroom #yearning #a heart that yearns #Spotify

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very-unimportant-writings · 2 years

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“ But you said you loved me.”

“And I loved you,” he shouts “, I loved you like no one could ever love. But did you let me?”

He furrows his brows “Did you let me?”

He looks into my eyes and time and place become meaningless.

Suddenly everything becomes meaningless and all I want is for those eyes to look at me, even if angrily and even if hatefully.

I want you to look at me even if your eyes are filled with surrow or hate, even if your eyes are filled with blood or tears.

As selfish as it sounds like, I want you to look at me through your worst, through my worst, and still keep looking because you want to. Because you can’t help it.

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very-unimportant-writings · 2 years

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Tonight we run away

You know ,people like to name things.Not just because they wanted to communicate better,but also because they think they own something after naming it: a tool, a road, a street, a country, a poem, a dog or a person.

It sometimes gives us this illusion of marking something as ours. Some of us actually have the audacity to do so,to mark something as their own ,only because they’ve chosen the name,to own something, to own someone. The point however hasn’t gotten clear to me yet; it only terrifies me and makes me shiver,of the chill it runs through my body and grips at my neck like an animal.No, I don’t think the word animal can convey such a disastrous delusion; the one that has stopped the ancient, and the one which is stopping us now.

I can’t say much though.I’m just one voice,one that desperately wants to be heard,not only because of the human nature,wanting to be heard,the desire to be bold in their eyes ,but because I don’t want the newcomers to suffer as much as I did; I don’t want them to feel they don’t belong to the only place they have.

I haven’t been hurt as much as some other people have, but as it’s been said; our pain,our war, isn’t physical. We’ve been slaves all this time.Only this time,they’ve taken control of our minds,our thoughts, not our hands and our feet. We’ve been lead by the people who have nothing to present ,but an ancient routine which leaves our soul darker and let the dust choke it.

I don’t think I’m ever going to feel the fire I once had.Can you set fire to a wet branch? I don’t think so. I feel like the pain I used to have, created a bit of the inspiration for everything I did; it made me breathless but I always felt light. Now I’m dizzy and heavy. I’ve got nothing to lose but a stock for everything that’s run away from it. A shell left to protect the things that escaped as soon as they realized they were kept inside to die slowly, slowly as the days passed and the nights came.

I suppose my words aren’t of wisdom; they aren’t beautiful either. They’re just desperate and real.Real.I guess, I’d forgotten how reality looked like, Until I saw the looks again,the disgust and discomfort. I’m made of my terrible mistakes and I can’t change them. I’m disgusting to the ones who think my unordinariness and misbehavior is a sign of puberty and being naive.

I don’t feel like I’m a kid anymore ,but nobody tells me what the fuck is going on. Everyone has a coded language around me ,and they just start screaming when I don’t need it. I’m tired, so tired. I’m sick of the screams ;I’m sick of screaming;I’m sick of attacking people just to prove myself ,to defend myself, to gather the last pieces of hope I’ve left; I’m sick of liars and lying and being lied to.

What have I done to deserve seeing myself fall further and further? To deserve seeing whom I love dying by their own hands? What can I do to stop this? What can I do to make them wake up? I guess I can never do that. I’m getting dazed and hazy, and the fog starts to come back to where it was. As my eyelids get as heavy as the sky above. I never wanted to kill them all; I never wanted to leave you all; I just let the fire burn my wings ,and told him to push me down. And now I’m free ,and now you can come to me. So we’ll be one voice .And we’ll echo till eternity

#aesthetic #my writing #writing #babbles #aestheticism #old writing #inspired #radiohead #no exit #exit music (for a film)#Spotify

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very-unimportant-writings · 2 years

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Current situation

“Nothing’s changed. You’ll go home. You’ll be bored. You’ll be ignored. No one will listen to you, really listen to you. You’re too clever and too quiet for them to understand. They don’t even get your name right.”

— Neil Gaiman, Coraline

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