#poetry Tumblr posts

  • Ataxia, voilà–
    I, sleeping among the foxtail.
    Circled by a singer-guitarist:
    his umber umbra, surrounds me.

    I respond with coffee, and a disconcerted lick
    of sugarcubes.
    I, a sodalord, a reclining, wrinkling jujube,
    my pupils of the red hot candy,
    accepting the challenge in the brown room.

    No regret. Dark waves blanket.
    The coffee, the cigarette–
    a dark horse, I was made of this.
    A blond, a blond, oh good, omnipotent one,
    how could I love a blond?

    He sings of regret.

    tsg: 2016

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  • There is no before you and after you

    No, there was before you and there is with you now

    I will live here with remnants of you,

    The pieces of yourself that shattered like glass and

    Embedded themselves as wounds in my chest

    I haven’t seen you in three years but that doesn’t stop me from

    Searching for you

    Crowds of faces all become yours in a blur

    But it’s not just the fear of you, no,

    It’s the fear that there are others like you

    And they smell the blood you spilled on me,

    Like I’m marked,

    Like they see the weakness in my eyes and know there is something

    Fragile in me

    That they are strong enough to take

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  • Having feelings for you is one of the hardest things I’ve had to deal with. I can’t control them. You’re all I think about. I think about you before I go to sleep, after I wake up, every second of every day you’re on my mind. You shouldn’t be, but you are and it’s killing me.

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  • Despite decisions made, consequences are very rarely thought through

    Pale green paint reflecting life planted within walls within walls
    Light rebounds and retracts, eastward facing eyes beckon and taunt the waking world into dragging me out of the void, boil my blood and sing your songs, 

    I’ll wake eventually

    Eons have passed since I first entered with gleaming eyes, a light soul and naivety radiating from my every cell
    By now I can pick and choose which lens will distort my vision,
    and though scarred and aged, my soul has evolved to bear greater weight - strengthened from sustained loads of stress and heartache and joy
    Yet even now with experience in hand, it’s revealed to be only a single tool in a shed full of many; naivety can rarely be sweated out 

    It’s less like a safe haven completely hidden from harm. And more like the eye of a hurricane, surrounded by roiling masses of lightning and rain, with greedy winds ready to rip into your brain. I float, untethered. Dangerously close to the edges - they try to suck me back in

    Unable to control the direction or speed, I bumble along with the storm

    Experimentation, clashing ideals. Push and stretch one side of the wall then pivot and fight for your right. Strain and struggle but walls do not bend. They only crack and fall. So leave them be, at least they’ll hide your rebellious words from unchanging tradition

    Risk discovery, so close to all too keen hearing ears. Be who you are, you’re safe? Plaster is thin and your dreams too loud (like everything else about you) You’re walking the very thin line between two dangers

    Will you simply combust from exposure, pulling back the curtains to burn through your soul. Or implode? The pressure of your raging self hatred suddenly buckling under the unmovable indifferent cold of judgement. 

    Practice your balancing act, little monkey. 

    I’ve carved into you like I’ve carved my own skin. Leaving empty husks of memories, left only with the impression of emotion, evidence. 

    #poetry #artists on tumblr #writing#my writing#old piece#2019#personal piece #? #poems #tw: self harm #tw: self hate #man I was such an angry teen #or at least I thought I was #lmao#angry piece
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  • One day
    I will apologize
    for not being able to love you
    in all the ways
    you so desperately
    want me to.

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  • Not once was I ever shown how to love a beating heart,

    especially after it broke.

    They never tell you how much it hurts when love is surrounding your whole being

    yet hatred tries to seep in like cold chills-

    anger permeating your lover’s voice.

    The frostbite of her insults stamped out the flame in my heart.

    Hands gripping like shards of glass.

    My soul grew frail and weak,

    and for a time, it would creak

    if I tried to love too hard.

    Two years have gone by.

    And sure, my heart still stumbles

    but I’ve learned many lessons.

    r.d.a. 01-27-20

    #yo if you see this #i forgive you #we were young #poem#love poems #poems about love #lesbian goals #girls who like girls #sad#heartbreak #poems about heartbreak #breakups#heartbreak poems#poetry#my poetry #life gets better #keep moving forward #recovery#brokenhearted#her #i love her #writeblr#writing blog#free write#spilled ink#recovering #thoughts in rapture #mine#rda
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  • from ‘She Held Herself a Deep Pool for Him’

    She held herself a deep pool for him

    And the shadows crying for him

    He gathered himself in many dark waters

    And the shadows crying for her

    They took each other in shadow meetings

    They held themselves in shadow songs

    She coiled herself around him

    With a ribbon of glass

    And a rope of gold

    The coils of her cunning held him

    With rings of golden glass

    With a moon of melting gold

    With a mist of sunset ribbons”

    [Carl Sandburg]

    #carl sandburg #she held herself a deep pool for him #poem#poet#poetry#love#connection#mates
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  • how can I possibly let you go

    when you’ve seen me strip naked

    giving my soul to you

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  • Seguimos desejando o bem

    E falando de amor.



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    She always wakes half an hour before,
    takes a shower, gets dressed
    dancing around the house
    prepares tea, sings while looking at me.
    I’m still half asleep, 
    Wondering if there’s someone
    prettier than she. 
    Time seems short,
    when there aren’t enough minutes
    to warm each other in the morning cold
    so we part different ways
    before, a final wave, 
    “love you” she yells
    her voice echoing through the noise
    my favorite part of the day
    seeing her smile
    tip-toeing away. 

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  • image

    -B. H. Mallorie

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  • Is it shallow of me to fixate on his seam?
    The vein of his arm is a long seam,
    an arm seam, deep or shallow reservoir?

    It bursts out for attention.
    When he motions it up and down,
    it looks like it’s genuflecting.
    Are all his blood liter units connecting,
    traveling down their assigned motorway,
    or does some of it stay
    in that popular lane in the interim?

    Is it a greedy vein, a forearm glutton?
    And when he clutches the violin,
    did you notice, just then, that it pops?

    Hey, look at me, not shallow, but deep.
    I am the pride of the arm appendage.
    I keep it sharp. I hold it together
    like dotted networks on jeans.
    I am the seam.

    tsg: 2011

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  • my favorite thing about dancing

    is the dreams i have after

    spinning, falling, whipping, racing, dashing, catching, pushing, pulling, soaring, sinking,

    I am no longer a mind I am no longer afraid I am no longer shrunken and shriveled I am no longer dry I am speeding past the point of no return breathless breathing pursuing the next thing the next best thing I have tiger’s blood within me I am guts I am spine I am an animal roaring sadness hope and glee

    falling spinning upsidedown catching releasing I am melting, swallowed up whole plunging, floating, my blood is pumping,

    This is fleeting And it is inside of me

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  • hold

    the stable shut, if not

    for you, then whom, love,

    indulgence, a vice, goes

    without substance, ill

    humored in chagrin, so

    stop it, and the bale

    of hay is like a cradle

    more than a coffin,

    when alone and

    sufficient, notice

    all the lights

    above, and how

    there is hope

    in quietude,

    how the chill

    of navy blue

    is enough to

    loosen worn

    shoulders, anew,

    inhale the dew,

    close your eyes

    to blink, cognizant

    of art to be lived

    in the phases of the moon,

    and the air of motion

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  • Don’t be so hard on yourself for feeling lost, confused or like you haven’t achieved all that you wanted to achieve. Life would be pretty damn boring if you’d done it all already, if you had no more room to grow or things to learn. Be patient. You’ll eventually figure it all out and everything will make perfect sense. Every experience will get you to where you are supposed to be. Every win, every loss, every heartbreak and every mistake. Don’t be afraid to fuck up, and don’t expect success overnight. Get lost, get so damn lost and find yourself over and over again. Believe in yourself, forget about what others think. Don’t stop until you make yourself proud .“

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