yemasblog
fickle minded
let the mess of words in my head fold into words written out
42 posts
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Last Seen Blogs
tomsbly
stuff
zukinbooty
luvinbooty
lattaeyongs-main
closed.
lattaeyongs-main
closed.
raghavsolutionguru
RaghavSolutionGuru
Text
we're both tired, injured souls. but between us two, i'll chose to be the one to get hurt. i'll be the one who continues to suffer as long as you finally rest.
i always tell you that. i always tell you that you need to rest, because i know how heavy the load you're carrying is. let me take away even the tiniest bit from yours and add it to mine instead.
i know you don't want me to do that. so i'll do everything i can to discreetly take the pain away. little by little, and one day, i want you to wake up and feel the weight finally off of your shoulders.
0 notes
Text
50 years of marriage is a long, LONG time. Much too long of a time to be spent with someone who resented you, yet you are unfortunately legally with.
So much for being privileged and rich, yet you couldn't even choose a husband who at least liked you back. Your own husband seemed to only share a few glances with you, barely light touches of the hand, or ate with you in silence. It felt like being married to your roommate for ages.
The house feels empty without him. Strange enough, his monotone voice, the way his eyes light up at nature documentaries, the sound of his pen scribbling after bird-watching, the love he has for summer, his methodogical way of eating and going places, made the house alive, for you at least.
It's been a few months since he's passed, and you've finally decided to clean up the piles of knick-knacks and items he's collected over the years. You know he wouldn't've wanted them to collect dust.
Underneath heaps and heaps of books and articles, you find one small, unassuming notebook. Yet, it's plain and unlabeled, standing out from the rest of the encyclopedias and publications in his office. Curious, you decide to open it.
'May 16, 19XX
Saw an odd species outside near the sycamore tree today. I couldn't get a close enough look to identify it. Hopefully it comes back.'
'May 18, 19XX
The bird has returned to the tree. It seems to have built a nest. It might be female.'
Of course, you thought, of course he'd be journalling about his love for birds. Those chirps coming from the TV are almost nostalgic. Weirdly missing him, you read more, and more, and--
'May 29, 19XX
Her eyes seem brown to the plain eye, but I know they're this beautiful hazel. Swirls of light bounce around her irises, and I want to drown in the colors.'
'June 13, 19XX
Summer is almost ending, so unfortunate. Luckily, she makes it feel like summer all year-long.'
'June 21, 19XX
My dear summer (my lady, not the season) has been cleaning my glass birds. She truly is my own sunshine.'
Never expressed, yet felt so deeply...
All this time.
You always thought your spouse hated you because you two were an arranged marriage. After their death, you found their journal and learned the truth. They loved you all along. They just weren’t good at showing or expressing it.
#writing#writers on tumblr#writing prompts#writeblr#writers and poets#sweet understanding woman x neurodivergent coded man#nerd husband x wife who listens#i love this so fucking much
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
i feel like i've read or spoken every word, every sound, and every sentence to phrase my affection. i've done it so many times that it's become repetitive for me.
the tick tock of clocks and their daily morning ringing, the rising of the sun and moon, a human's inhale and exhale, the yearly growth and fall of tree leaves, the glaring heat and the pouring rain, morning and evening greetings, the words "i love you". repetitive, cyclistic, yet, needed.
the echo of clocks serves as a reminder of time, despite it's annoyance. the sun and moon, tree leaves, changing seasons, nature made it all. we breathe to live, to survive. all of them are natural, innate to our world.
and loving you? when i was in the womb, my mother formed a heart made to love. my father crafted a brain with the wit to love, and my family formed a soul strong enough to be in love. i was made to love you.
maybe it's repetitive because i need it, because i chose it to be. who cares if it's repetitive? so do things that help the world go on. the repetition of your love help my world go on.
0 notes
Text
im sorry
i'll hide here because i genuinely think this is the safest outlet i have.
God, I know it seems so hypocritical of me to be the one apologizing or the one who's doing all of this. I hurt you. When you told me that you bragged about that trinket I gave you to your mom, when you said you waited half and hour two seperate times for me, because you wanted to talk to me and fix things. how could i ever be so stupid to pick another petty fight? it's like I pushed my luck, and chose to do it. I don't even know why the fuck I did that.
one time i didnt respond, to when you called out my name, i had you waiting and crying, i hope i never do again. just once, i heard you crack, i heard you break, for me. that one moment, it sunk in, clawing at my heart. how can you ask me not to feel bad? when you love me that much? i love you as much as you love me, but why can't i play my part? i should've just told you. one moment, a few words, would save me nights of having to cry to sleep, then i'd know you weren't hurt. i'd rather take all the pain the world has got left to give, just to take away yours. i'd rather drown in my own tears, then ever see you shed one again. i never realized how much i could trust, how much i could actually love you. i'd be tortured, and beat, and killed, if it was all for you. i know exactly what you'd say, "if you did, what would i do when you're gone?". i want to tell you just to find someone else who could love you as much as i do, and play their part.
0 notes
Text
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
I've always been afraid of heights. Looking from above, expecting to fall. Waiting for the drop, wondering how the winds would push against my hair if i ever did slip. Have I been afraid of heights, or afraid that no one would catch me? That I would hit rock-bottom, and my glass heart would be shattered. Do you know how long it takes to melt and sculpt this love? But what would be worse, waiting for someone to catch me, or wondering if you could catch someone from high above? Falling down, heaven sent. Angels never stayed for long.
0 notes
Text
what? you were charmed by my beauty, but even in the worst you still see it? but how? even in the best my own eyes could not scan the mirror, so how could you?
how are you unreadable? different? i can't understand what's going on, but why do i have a gut feeling? a gut feeling that i can't tell.
0 notes
Text
i hate yearning. i hate seeing you and i hate wanting to cling to you. i hate always passing by. i hate the feeling of wanting to walk to you, but my feet not being able to move.
i hate wanting. i hate wanting to hug you and tell you how much you matter. i hate wanting to be by your side.
love is hate, and hate is love.
1 note
·
View note
Text
oh how dearly i dare to be in your whim
my heart strings want to push you around, but the stars never stray from their place in the night sky
will we too be like those stars? staying, shining, and eventually dying?
oh however beautiful this is, i want this star to stay. i want its shine to go on as long as i live
as i live with a weight i cannot carry, as i live with the demons swirling above, as they could not be silenced, and i am damned eternally to stay, but as long as this star stays, than so shall i.
i shall stay as you are glimmering in my sky. now, i am that hopeful fool, hallucinating permanence. of course it could not stay! i've seen it happen already in front of my eyes. more of a jester that makes of me, that i act as if destiny would not do it again. oh how stupid of me to face reality in the eye and spit in its mouth. but only love could have ever given me that courage. how i know that destiny surely would not listen, but i am still begging on my knees. i know i am a fool. and i am made more a fool by my awareness, and my stubborness to change. but you never would understand!
i would stay a fool for you. i would ask the fates and if the path forged would not lead to you, than i will stand strong as a willow.
0 notes
Text
you aren't dead to me, your memory stays like an artifact in my head. there are no moe apologies to be said, but maybe magic still hangs in the air? sometimes, i really want to believe miracles.
0 notes
Text
change
the way the wind blows
the seasons that come and go,
the height the tree grows
the sway of flowers, to and fro
it will always come
and it'll always leave
you may think it dumb,
or even unecessary
cut the weeds
for flowers to grow
create space, because what you need
is for new things to show
if there is emptiness
and there is scarcity
also comes fullness
blessings in quantity
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
eclipse
you used to call me the sun, the star that shine in your life everyday. if so, you were my moon, gleaming back the light i shone. but now, our eclipse has ended. i know decades from now, we'll meet again. our paths will cross once more, and you'll leave me all over again. while you orbit around and around, i'll be right here. the sun never moves from it's place.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
i think i knew
i shouldnt have believed you
which page of the story
did you fall out of love with me?
1 note
·
View note
Text
another life update: we broke up i was right valorant men can fucking suck it
my type in men is himbos and nerdy coder dudes and im not ashamed
HOWEVER VALORANT MEN CAN FUCKING SUCK IT
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
believe in beauty
all beautiful things shine with graceful light
like the sun in the crystal sky
or the stars that hang in the night
and thats the reason i ponder why
if you say i am beautiful
i refuse to believe
if i were to listen, it wouldnt be truthful
your vision, i wish to perceive
i'm not a gem shining in the sun's rays
nor a dewdrop shimmering atop a leaf
my body is full of decay
my beauty is not part of my beliefs
but dear how my heart beats around you
and when you pass by, my thoughts goes silent
so when you say i glow
i cant help but maybe believe it
because i know you wouldnt lie
and this time i know
with you i dont need to try
and i can finally glow
0 notes
Text
a little life update: the guy i am currently with is a nerd and plays valorant so... ??
my type in men is himbos and nerdy coder dudes and im not ashamed
HOWEVER VALORANT MEN CAN FUCKING SUCK IT
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
most christian/catholic gen z are either super problematic and crap people or treat their religion like a fandom and are the most chill kind people ever
82 notes
·
View notes