yelloeukulele
AxelotlsAreCo
I’m just sad, write mediocre poetry, and am some 21 y/o still obsessed with cartoons
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Daddy’s Little Princess
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Celebrities are definitely going out of style. I think a lot of people are going to realize that they’ve been investing so much energy into worshipping these external figures that they actually know nothing about. That energy and investment in these coming years will be placed into our communities, our chosen families, our neighbours, our elderly, and our children. Not even being idealistic rn. Celebrities will just not hold up. We’ll start really seeing how it’s a culture that feeds on our desire to escape reality. When our focus switches to ground itself in reality, challenge reality, build and create reality......they will just take the backseat. Your voice means something fam you don’t need a blue check for nothing
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Dear Tim,
I think I wanted you to be good
I wanted to look at you
And see a light in your eye
That mine had lost 10 years ago
I wanted to feel the warmth of the sun
In a smile you would direct towards me
I wanted to feel the comfort
Of a hug
From a father
To a daughter
And as I spiraled in my seat
Surrounded by the scent of sweetness and salt
Back lit by a window
Which held the reflection
Of a past version of myself
I could not face
In the fear of being blinded by possibilities stolen
I could not help but wilt
To tumble into the shadows
Of a little girl
Who once could only wonder
“Why?”
“Why did you leave?”
“Why was I not enough?”
“Why were we not enough?”
Not in the sense of abandonment she once held
But in a numb realization
That you were never
Ever
Going to change.
You got there late.
Claimed I looked the same
Then ignored me for the menu page
And as I say
Baited breath
Clenching fists to tight
I had almost a years worth of crescent moons imprinted in my hands
An hour went by
And then two
And three
And I suddenly realized I still couldn’t breath
I looked to you in hopes of catching your sight
That a smile could break the barrier
That you held between your lips
I did what I always do
I ran
And through the tears
That I let fall down the drain
While I hid in a women’s restroom
Wiping black streaks from my skin
Which smudge accordingly
I realize that even a conversation
After 15 years
Was too much to expect
Not because the idea is illogical
But simply because you are
I begin to chant
“I was enough.”
“She was enough.”
“They were enough.”
After many moments my breathing calms
My heart no longer palpitates
And I begin to reflect on this time shared
I think maybe the darkness that I saw in your eyes
The ones which so closely mirror mine
Is what told me that whatever pain
What ever sorrows and unanswered prayers
Which permiated your childhood
Sunk into your clothes
Into your skin
Into your hair
Were too much for you to bare
Maybe We had always be enough
But you never could be
In the silence at the breakfast table
One which sat miles away from each of us
I recalled how I read ever thought which went unspoken
their stories written inside the lines of their faces
Foreshadowing amongst the shadows held under their lashes
And worst
Was the dimness which had taken over once shining orbs on each side of button noses
I could see grief as if a tattoo
Permanently staining their skin
Whatever has happened to you
It must have been terrible
So horrifying
That even when given the brightest of smiles
The happiest of giggles
Of tiny feet
With tiny socks
And tiny shoes
You could do nothing but watch
As you pushed them as far into your own pain
As your own parents
Had pushed you into theirs
I have more in common
With the black coffee I drink
Than with the thought
That I could love you
That you ever loved me
That at one time I stayed up
And watched the moon
In hopes
You saw it too
And through those tears
That I let fall down the drain
While I hide in a women’s restroom
Having Wiped black streaks from my skin
Which smudged accordingly
I walk back to the dining room
Only to see you outside
Smoking gold from thin white paper
Which burns in slow embers
Quickly fading to pale ash
Releasing the loose smoke
And look at a table full of sympathetic smiles
I sit to read their stories
And come to the conclusion
That I did not come for him
But for those he is surrounded by
If I was not born the be his daughter
And him my father
Then at the very least
I can find comfort
In knowing
I was born
To be a sister
P.S.
I’m sorry I’m not your little girl anymore,
and I’m sorry you’re not a little boy anymore.
I’m sorry you were robbed from childhood
and I’m sorry you robbed it from them too.
However
Just because you were robbed
Doesn’t mean you had to Rob them too
I hope if you ever see this,
you understand what I am trying to tell you.
I hate who you were, and who you’ve become,
and I hate what you did to these children I never knew
I know I may never be a real sister to them,
but like me
I know you’ll never be their father too.
Best wishes,
your second daughter
Oh yea,
I know about keighley too.
#poety#angsty poetry#angry poetry#sad poetry#sad poem#angry poem#letters#poem letter#dad poem#daddy issues#major daddy issues#seriously#i have daddy issues#it’s 2am#i’m so tired#this is bad#idk how to tag this#how do i use tumblr#idk how tags work#angst#family angst#just my pain tbh#i wrote this instead of sleeping#what is sleep#please help#i haven’t slept in two days#anyway#please don’t be mean#i kinda hate this#ok bye
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The heart that pulses in my chest cannot contain the hope in my eyes which are directed to your light.
They simply cannot comprehend how to bring myself to completion without you.
A proton without an electron,
our own individual chemistry cannot exist without the other.
It is simple yet profound,
to think that one's existence is insistent on the other being there,
creating chemical reactions with one another.
When heated we explode into a ball of light,
blues and yellows bursting together in a dangerous display,
only to calm down into a display of green.
It is unknown how exactly the fire had been lit,
let alone when it died out.
All that is known is the unknown holds no bounds.
There is no place for us to escape to that is any less sacred than the bed in our room,
the sheets light in winter and heavy in summer,
always too much and never enough.
Beneath those sheets we walk through space and time,
dissolving into nothingness,
but together nonetheless.
We fight for each other,
willing to throw it all away,
yet fear keeps us held down,
choking our breath out until all that escapes is the slightest shine of light.
The two dance together inside the abysse,
the fall into a river of wine and there they find a spark.
Then another.
And another.
They fly and fly until they finally ignite.
There the yellow and blue dance once more to make green,
and from that green along the way is a new light all of its own.
The cycle begins anew.
#poet#poems on tumblr#poetry#love poem#poem#spilled poetry#chemistry#literature#writing#writerscommunity#a story ill never write#idk how to tag this#how do i use tumblr
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Dear Orpheus,
You are the moon and the stars, a bright explosion of light in the dark abyss of life. A lunar God commanding a sky of stardust with a simple melody. The sun of a muse my Orpheus playing a song in the field. you are oblivious to the effect you take, obsessed with the sounds you make, ripples in the universe, record scratches and time. It washes the world in a monthly display, the colors of emotions and disarray. You, with a flick of your wrist, could end the world. A creature of destruction, a being of light, the love of my life.
Love,
Your Eurydice.
#poety#Orpheus#eurydice#greek mythology#poem#poetry#love poem#love letter#love#romance#romance poetry#romantic poetry#romantic poem#poet#poems on tumblr#3am poem#moon#stars#star poem#stardust
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