#peotry Tumblr posts

  • when i say i love you endlessly:

    i love everything about you from top to bottom. i will love you no matter your struggles, and i will love you regardless of your flaws. Damn, i will love your flaws too. i will love every part of you until i reach the end of the earth

    @ahlwords

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  • “You can have a life beyond your wildest dreams, all you have to do is change everything…”

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    a little late night poetry 🥺

    #lqbtq#pillowthoughts#peotry#lost love#gwlg #girl who likes girls #girls who date girls #lesbian #sad boi hours #sad poem#late night#latepost
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  • Body

    Make my ashes into paint

    Or my bones into jewelry

    Or my blood into spells

    Or my hair into a rope

    Or my teeth into charms

    Or flesh into food for soil

    Please just make something of me

    Give my vessel a beautiful purpose

    For it grows so jealous of my soul

    #spilled poetry#poets corner#pretty words#peotry #poem i guess #poem#spilled words#spilled ink #you know i had me in the fist half not gonn lie #i didnt expect it to end like that #like not sad #i suprised myself #im glad i wrote this #1am is the best time to write poems
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  • even tho it’s a dream, let me live it

    even tho it will shatter, let me build it

    even tho it’s fake, let me keep it

    even tho it will dissapear, let me hold it

    even tho it will bleed, let me pretend it doesn’t

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    My mind feels like an abyss… not many can survive there…

    But it is beautiful

    Everything that survives glows

    • IG/Twitter: _vibekillers
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  • You told someone you loved them

    And that’s ok

    You never questioned whether the feeling would stay

    Of course it would

    I know it would

    My love is a true thing

    It’s statement as stable as the sky

    Never breaking from step or stopping to ask why

    People whisper ‘they don’t deserve you’

    ‘You’re better than this, crying over eptiness and things that don’t exist’

    And you say that’s a lie

    There is meaning to your tears and a reason to cry

    And yet, one question remains when the rest fall away

    When you’re all alone

    A question you keep asking

    Do they feel like home?

    #peotry#vent#sadness#relationships #this helped me work through some stuff
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  • Touching the birds and the bees
    As they ask me about my internal disease
    Hanging my limbs from the trees
    ‘Cause I only use them when I’m starting to bleed
    It feels just like all of my friends
    Are too old to pretend
    That we’re still someone else
    The lines getting thin in between
    Who they really are
    Anymore
    So who am I to say
    That my friends have gone away?

    She’s got bright red lips
    But I’ve got black
    Even though we’re kinda different
    We’re the same flag
    I refuse to forget what you did back at home
    She’s got bright red lips
    But I’ve got black
    Even though we’re kinda different
    We’re the same flag
    Told you that I couldn’t handle it
    So stop that
    When I looked into your eyes
    You stopped and laughed
    Just laughed at me
    Just laughed and laughed
    Just laugh at me
    At me

    The kids are dying
    The kids are dying
    The kids are dying
    The kids are


    (i didn’t write this it’s a song by Rumi Lavigne)

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  • The sun is setting

    My homework is just complete

    I hate middle school

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    Reading poetry soothes my soul.

    Pillow Thoughts by Courtney Peppernell

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  • In the graveyard, there’s all kinds of graves in different shapes, there’s one where it’s so covered in ivy that when the wind touches it, the constant sway of leaves makes it appear like an old woman, even though the grave was for a man.

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    There’s an overgrown like-pasture between the tall graves and the smaller graves, where if one were stepping across, they would be walking over more ancient, crumpling graves beneath the undergrowth.

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    Every grave, even though some of them look alike, has its own character, as if the remains of the faces beneath the grave, have evolved their personal mark on them.

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    The world of the living becomes so busy, trying to occupy the structure of life; it becomes lifeless in itself.

    But when one walks through the cemetery, twisting up and down the many pathways and almost possibilities, time slows down, the sounds of the nearby traffic become distant.

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    And suddenly the “ancient” graveyard becomes teaming with life. It’s almost like every spirit, previously sleeping in their coffins, arises to greet visitors such as people or birds, protecting them as they pass by.

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    Even the railings around the cemetery - although they appear threatening on the outside - help keep out any source of danger from the outside world.

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    Along the pavement , there are the many graves stacked up against each other,on either side so every time a footstep is made, an inhabited spirit awakens to almost high-five the passer by.

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    Scraps of broken glass - which look dirty anywhere else - sparkle like precious jewels, decorating the pathway.

    There’s the majestic raven cawing up-right to the sky, as if it was about to take off (to join its mate - which is on the other side of the park) until the tree crawled and cemented itself into its skin so it was frozen in its tracks.

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    Diagonally downwards from it, there is wise old owl, the protecter of the place - which you must bow your head to - perched politely on its throne, sleeping peacefully.

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    And also its grandmother that’s evovling back into the tree, along the path.

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    There’s the circle of wooden carved chairs (awfully graffitied by youth) inclined with the sky, where one can imagine that native people must of sat, once they cast a spell on the cemetery, to make sure, despite the spirits being chained to the graveyard, they wouldn’t be chained in their coffin, so they could breathe freely.

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    One can also imagine, although they possibly won’t be awake to witness it, when the padlock is placed around the great entrance at night, all of the spirits - invisible by daylight, visible by moonlight- come out and dance around each other’s graves and socialise with their family members (and some of the younger ones would play hide and seek).

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    It’s quite strange to think that I can feel trapped and almost suffocated with twenty people in a room; but when I’m surrounded by more than a hundred graves, I feel completely at peace, as if all the spirits offer me leftovers of some of their previous lives, to help me breathe once more.

    Although as I walk through this ancient graveyard, sometimes I’m at loss because none of the names I see, would be as recognisable anymore, because no one is left alive.

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    And it’s chilling to think that we will all be one of those many nameless ghosts one day, worn out letters on a stone, that will eventually rub away in the distance of time.

    Yet I feel happy somehow for the time I’ve been gifted; to experience a place that can allow me to be beautifully, unreservedly unhinged.

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    #something i found in my old drafts #i'm actually quite proud of this writing #hartlepool#middlesbrough#graveyard#war graves#peotry#writing#inspiration #(this place was near my accomadation #it was my happy place) #photography#photos #the graveyard book #cemetery#book#novel#long post
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  • #peotry#sappy poetry#romantic poetry #I'm a romantic i knwo #i write sometimes
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  • Roses are red,

    Some flowers are white,

    If only I could catch a poem,

    But no, I have to write

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  • 31/08/20

    Searching for a home

    Through many battles and empty nights she travelled, following the urge of belonging. It was right then, in the middle of nothing, that she understood no matter how many countries she would visit, home was were the heart was and so home was herself.

    With Love,

    - Kaia

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  • Blah Blah Blah Emotions suck

    I’m sorry I cried

    I don’t know why

    But sometimes

    Happiness cuts like

    A perforated line

    Was left behind

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