#peotry Tumblr posts

  • I’m better with words and although I was praised for that, words have now become my downfall. I can’t express the feelings I have if it weren’t for words. I’m sorry I don’t seem excited but trust me when I say I am. Please believe me when I say I love you, even if I have trouble showing it. And I know now my words don’t add up to my actions and I’m working on it. I’m sorry it’s taking longer than it should, but I’m okay despite all the energy I have used to restore myself. Don’t mind my tears when I tell you I’m fine, don’t ask about my shaky hands.


    Now the honesty has broken through and my knees are starting to shake. You don’t believe my words but I have no right to blame that on you. Half the words I say aren’t true and trust me baby if I could stop I would. Lies slip out of my mouth like my first language, it’s effortless. And if I told you all the lies I have said, would you still have stayed? Would you still believe me when I say I love you? The question will go unanswered until I’m laying six feet underground. Who knows, once I tell you all the lies I have said, you might be the one to put me there. You’ll hate me to the end of time, and if that’s the case I will rather be in my casket. And you have always said you know when I lie but believe me when I say my stutter isn’t the root of my lies.


    But what if I told you that I know the lies you have told? All the small details of deception you slipped out. Silently debating with myself if I should call you out or not. And it scares me to death if you were to know every time I lied. I believe I’m a good liar but I won’t be a fool, what if you were able to see through my lies? I might as well call it game over for me ‘cuz whether or not you accept me for all the lies I have told, I don’t think my heart would be able to take the embarrassment; all the shamed and pressure that comes with those lies.


    But maybe there will be a time, a time we can share all our secrets. And maybe our love won’t change but instead, grow stronger. We’ll share our vowels and you’ll tell me that you accept me and I’ll say the same. And maybe we’ll change each other for the better. Maybe we won’t have to lie anymore. Maybe we can fix each other and won’t have to live in fear, fear of anyone finding out that we aren’t who we say we are. Maybe we’ll find peace and comfort within each other’s lies.

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  • Does anyone else have several incomplete writing journals and yet you still get a new one every time you go out?
No? Just me?
I can’t help it, my thoughts need several journals to be contained!
Follow @thebookshelfpoet for more
#journaling #peotry #rupikaur #blythebaird #buttonpoetry #milkandhoney #ifmybodycouldspeak #selfcare #poetsofinstagram #thebookshelfpoet #writersofinstagram #writerscommunity 
https://www.instagram.com/p/CKKXZColBUH/?igshid=gbu2fslyxtki

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  • So i made this tiny story a while back to escape the stress of online schooling. I hope you like it :))

    Thanks for any feedback!



    A memory



    Snow. Snow was everywhere. On the ground, in the sky and even the lakes were frozen. The wind, so cold and icy, filled with fresh falling snow flakes was howling through the dark night sky. For some the howling of the wind sounded like harsh whipping, maybe it even sounded like screaming to others. But to some the wind was singing, it wasn’t howling. Those who hear and understand the wind song know how sad it was. In the cold time of winter it only sang about its loneliness and about how it missed the birds, the blooming trees and the bugs. It missed them all, the blooming flowers mostly.

    Oh how the wind wishes to be able to fly around the blooming flowers and carry their smell in the air and their pollen. It sang about the beauty of life, surely winter had its own life as well. But it was cruel and cold. Most animals left, the flowers weren’t blooming and it lacked the beauty of spring. The beauty of many lives living in harmony.


    Deers dancing together in flower fields, carrying their waltz through the woods as well. The wolves with their cubs, the bunnies and hares with their own young. The bears finally wake up and claim the berry bushes as their own, the fish swimming lively through the rivers and finding their end in an otters stomach.

    The bees buzzing around to collect nectar, bugs flying through the air and filling it with noise. The birds share the sky with the bugs, some big with sharp claws and beaks and some small with tiny feet and big round bodies.

    Oh how the wind misses the wolves howls, singing their beautiful song. The wind missed carrying these songs for miles, singing along with them.



    Now the wind was just carrying the frost, the prophecy of dying in the cold, the songs of snow were so quiet. One had to listen closely to hear the snow’s soft melody, of how it fell from the sky and to the ground. The snows melody was soft but the song of a raging storm filled with ice and snow was harsh.

    The wind carried it, a song so cruel and dark. With the snow came the night, the wind loved the night. It was filled with so many stars, the moon and sometimes there were even shooting stars. A clear night sky was indeed beautiful, even at night life was dancing around. Owls were now claiming the sky along with the bats.

    Tiny mice were running around on the search for food while the sly foxes were after them.


    Surely life and death met each other all the time but together they performed this dance. A dance about their love, about life being cold and cruel and death being warm and welcoming, showing the living how one’s life can end and another can start.

    A new life begins when another finds its end. Some go peacefully, they don’t feel anything and just fall into an eternal slumber. Others go painfully, dying of wounds, bleeding out and waiting for death to take them away from their cruel and gruesome ending but death does not take a life just like that. Every life has its own timer since their birth and when that timer hits zero, death comes and welcomes the dead into the afterlife.


    Oh how the wind longs to see life and death dance around, to hear the songs from the living and the dead singing in harmony, creating the perfect music for them. The living crying for their dead loved ones, the dead singing to them, telling them soon they will be reunited.


    Others weren’t crying, they were cheering for they had caught prey.

    For they finished another chapter of their book, a book about one’s life that is daily being written into. Some of these books are thick, others are thin, some have hundreds of pages, some have only one. Life keeps all these books with them, all these books are connected in some way to each other. Be it hunter and prey, or mother and child or maybe siblings, they all are connected to each other. These books are life’s cruel circle, a circle of balance. If one book is missing the balance would be destroyed and the living would be in danger of vanishing.



    Oh how the wind missed reading the books, sometimes helping writing them. Helping young chicks with a soft breeze to learn how to fly and claim the sky as their home. To help carry the pollen of flowers around, creating more flowers.



    But now it can’t do that anymore. There was no life, only snow and storms. Raging storms, screaming and thrashing around, its tears turning to snow before they could hit the ground.

    The wind carried its screams with them, the soft yet cruel melody of snow as well. Singing a song about missing life, being sick and tired of the cold.

    The wind sang its sad song, its cry for life and death and their beautiful dance. For the animals and plants to sing with the wind and dance with it. They all were gone and only left the wind, carrying plagues. It carried death, but the death it knew very well was warm and welcoming. This one was cold and stoic.


    This death didn’t even dance or had a partner, life, to sing and dance with it. This death was alone, sad and cold. It was like a void, pulling every bit of life and warmth desperately into themselves. Trying to feel the warmth as well, but it always failed. But it continued to consume all living, all dancing and sing, every drop of warmth till no one was left.

    And the wind? The wind could only watch in horror as everything they love slowly vanished in front of them.

    That was a long time ago, so long again that the bones of the once living were long dust and the earth was no longer futile.

    No life could now be reborn.


    The wind was now stuck forever carrying the storms screaming, the emptiness of what used to be lively woods and fields and the song of a cold death around will singing their own song. The wind sang everyday their sad song, the song about life and its greatness. The song about their loneliness, sadness and their memories.


    Sometimes if you listen closely you may hear the wind trying to imitate the song of the birds and the flowers, why? So they can for a short moment believe they aren’t alone and everything is how it used to be. But each time they realize more and more how sad they are. But for the wind shall never die, it carries these songs of death, plagues and storms around while singing their own song.

    A song about their memories, about the greatness of their past.




    By Lil_fox_hood on the 28th of December 2020

    #void fox talks #lil fox talks #Void fox writes #Lil fox writes #I rlly hope ya like it #Life#Death#The wind#Writing#My writing #Please don't steal it or claim as your own #Thank you very much #drabble#peotry#I guess
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  • I can block you

    I can delete photos of us

    And day by day your face will slowly fade from my mind

    I can forget the way you looked

    But the way you held my hand

    The way you looked past my eyes and into my soul

    The way you laugh at nothing

    The way you made me feel

    Those my dear,

    I will never ba able to forget


    ~c.c

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  • Magic lies in the souls of petals

    And clouds touched by pink zen.


    The barley that flows in the wind

    Catching the last drift of autumn.


    Peace of change

    And twins of fate


    The moons of your sharp presence

    Call out in frightening adoration

    Of your promised and happy smile.

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  • A fairy shown with wings of white,

    Flying further away from light,

    Fell from a star burning so bright

    Into vines wrapped around her tight.


    Sensation of a false delight,

    Elation from a blackened sight,

    Succumbing to a losing fight

    From waning moon of inner might,

    And this was her plea into the night:


    “oh, Ruler Of Serenity,

    please become my ecstasy,

    my twinkling eyes of clarity,

    my mind of stars so heavenly.

    Dreams, my only necessity.

    The depth of seas’ uncertainty,

    the depth of my dependency,

    my King Of No Identity.”

    #my writing#peotry#my poem #sharing publicly with a time stamp because i have a dreaded fear of plagiarism #not that i think anything i write is good enough to be plagiarized but still the fear persists
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  • “Under My Blanket”

    Under my blanket

    There is a secret

    Every 1am I’m awake

    To give myself a little brake


    You don’t understand it reader

    But it’s a dark secret of your writer

    That in every darkest night

    Under my blanket is a light

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  • Her heart stung with a thousand roses

    Each thorn adorned with grace and beauty

    Softly it lay upon long wanted wrongs

    And sings the down bird’s song

    Is it such a shame

    That it brings with it wretched poets

    From the depths of one’s own mind

    Brings forth the death of one’s own mind

    Who are we if we do not speak

    Who are we in the drink

    But Ophelia’s friend

    And to the end, it is us that can not speak

    We lay in silence 

    A bed of roses, honests, violent

    Is it truly beauty that’s not worth saving

    Will Ophelia’s water will forever keep on raging

    Who are we but men 

    Shore bound and logged with not water

    But with spirit

    Or the lack thereof

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  • Kaffee im Pappbecher

    Den letzten Kaffee mit dir

    Trank ich aus einem

    Pappbecher

    Er schmeckte weder gut noch schlecht

    Wollt’ nicht wahr haben

    Dass er fad’ geworden ist

    Also trank ich einen zweiten

    Auch dieser war ohne jeglichen Geschmack

    Also kam ich zu dem Entschluss:

    Dort werde ich nie wieder

    Mit dir

    Einen Kaffee im Pappbecher

    Trinken

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  • image

    Is there a mistake you don’t regret?

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  • There’s a house we go to for every new year’s.

    It is in a place where it is cold yet the paddies thrive. Ponds full of fish and dragonflies

    And there lies old faithful Tessy - a daughter from her now long lost mother.

    Shy is this dog - will come with you but never close to you

    Rarely does the beauty bark. Often than so, she sees all that could be seen.

    Only through the eyes of Tessy we keep the peace.

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  • In through the nose, and out the mouth

    I can’t be moved, my demeanor is stout

    Doubt i’ll ever really fail, because my faith doesn’t flail

    Wavering in the wind, the human mind is frail

    but I manage to still stand tall

    My base is stronger than concrete

    stronger than any wall

    It’s not what I am, it’s what I hold on to

    and what I hold on to cannot fall

    I hope you come to realize

    and switch your way of thinking

    so you could feel what I feel

    Meanwhile, your will is weakening

    You’re sinking into society, breathing in lies

    or maybe just following suit, believing family ties

    What I’m trying to say is bigger than our lives

    This is such a small part

    and we don’t end with our physical demise

    I urge you to gather your minds

    Not because it helps me

    Do yourself a favor

    and figure out for yourself what’s right

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  • give me
    the tender and the fire.
    i want the angst and ache
    and wild mess.
    all of it broken open,
    nothing less.
    because there’s just nothing else
    that can disarm me like that.
    it completely takes me apart…
    a man’s passion and
    raw vulnerability,
    the stretching of his heart walls
    and all those flowers growing
    from his chest.

    – butterflies rising

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  • A Casted Crown


    image


    There aren’t enough words in the human language that I could ever pull together to tell you how grateful I am to you, Jesus𑁋

    To express how much I love you.


    So I give you my heart.

    It is all that I have to offer to you, O Gracious King.


    You’ve been so good to me.

    And nothing but good.


    You have bestowed upon me blessings that, without a shadow of a doubt, I am unworthy of𑁋

    So undeserving of.


    But that in itself just highlights and magnifies your goodness.

    It reveals to us your heart, Abba.


    So pure. So kind. And so full of love.

    Love that you want nothing more than to pour out on us in endless showers of grace and mercy.


    Beautiful are you in all of your ways,

    O good Father and Ancient of days.


    I long to see your face in Paradise.

    And I can’t wait to cast my crown to you, Jesus.


    Because the crown that you have given me isn’t truly mine.

    It’s why I’m casting it back to you because you’re the reason why.


    It belongs to you.

    Solely you.


    Because all that I was ever and am able to do

    Was and is only because of you.


    You are the vine,

    I am the branch.


    And what good is a branch if it has been separated from its vine?

    You, Jesus, and only you, are my Lifeline.

    #jesus#christian#bible#faith#god#gospel#hope#holy spirit#scripture#jesussaves#casting crowns#peotry#christian poetry#poem #Jesus is worthy #jesus is lord #Jesus is everything #give God glory #the glory of god #the lamb of god #there’s no one like Jesus #Jesus is beautiful #jesus is my love #my love#love#Spotify
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  • the motions follow like the water
    fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee
    love is like wine
    a bittersweet feeling
    sometimes he’s just to big
    sometimes he’s just to small

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  • You abuse souls.

    You love and adore

    Attention whores.

    And then pretend to be a good person

    While you take advantage and worsen

    The pain of those who were dumb enough to believe in you.

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  • You wouldn’t believe

    how many people

    Look you in the eye at the observatory

    And ask you to tell them

    That the sun spins around the earth

    #peotry#thoughts#trans #might make into a drawing? #comic? #not sure #just wanted to get it out there for now
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