killerwriterr

[killerwriterr]

I thought of you long enough but it only pushed you further away.

— Haruki Murakami, from Samsa in Love (via lunamonchtuna)

[killerwriterr]

Suitcase

I never unpacked my suitcase. Maybe 'cause I knew one day I might have to leave again.

Moving clothes from place to place— the bed to chair, and mat to case— time passed, and things didn't change.

I desperately waited for a sign that said: You can finally leave this hollow place.

A place that now holds only your imprints and remains from your childhood days—

Of finger-stained walls and tear-stained corners that held all your secrets when the world caved.

That room no longer feels mine. Only a bed where I sleep in.

So maybe, I never unpacked my suitcase because I never felt at home again.

[killerwriterr]

My dad said, "Isn't that the best? Goodbyes, where you don't have to face your fears come to life. A quiet exit out the back door."

“The most painful goodbyes are the ones that are never said and never explained.”

— Unknown

[killerwriterr]

If you leave me, please do so completely.

Do not turn back. Do not leave lingering glances behind.

Let my heart break— leave the pieces on my doorstep.

It is better than another day of “he might look at me differently today.”

-E

[killerwriterr]

forgive the version of you that didn’t know any better

[killerwriterr]

— Anaïs Nin, from The Diary of Anaïs Nin (Vol. 1: 1931-1934) (via letsbelonelytogetherr)

[killerwriterr]

to be seen without performing. to be heard without screaming. to be missed without disappearing. to be enough without proving it. to be held without falling apart. to be understood without explaining. to be wanted without conditions. to be. to be.

[killerwriterr]

Cowards, the both of us.

We hide behind small lamps and empty words,

afraid to face the truth —

that we are more fragile than we like to admit.

We mask our fears with a gentle glow,

but deep down,

we’re just trying to find the courage to love,

to live,

to heal.

[killerwriterr]

"I`ve lived to bury my desires…", Alexander Pushkin (translated by Maurice Baring)

[killerwriterr]

my fav line-

'who turns grief into performance'

I never really thought of it that way. It made me stop and think.. made me realize it's true.

Only a poet, whose word is his food, would make grief his performance too.

POET (DEROGATORY)

i make metaphors out of messes/call it craft, call it clean/ stab my ribs with a ballpoint pen/ just to see what bleeds between/ i spill guts on the linen/ call it art, call it grace/ scavenge through what isn’t finished/ find a rhyme inside the waste/ i dress up rot in velvet/ tie a ribbon ‘round decay/ turn a panic into stanza/ turn a heartbreak into play

god, it’s earnest/ god, it’s heavy/ god, it reeks of try-too-hard/ like i want the world to see me/ bleeding neatly as a bard

poet -derogatory- /noun: a person who won’t quit/ who turns grief into performance/ turns a ghost into a skit/someone digging through the ashes/ for a metaphor that sings/ someone screaming in a sonnet/ with a crown of pigeon wings.

it’s a scam, a lovely swindle/ wrapping wounds in gold and lace/ writing doors that go in circles/hoping someone keeps the pace/ i fall for it daily/ offer up my bruises sweet/call it sacred, call it stupid-/still, i lay it at your feet

[killerwriterr]

Tumblr being my personal cheerleader.

[killerwriterr]

hello 🕯 i come in peace.

a lone writer, searching for solace in this chaotically stumbling world. if you enjoy my work, please stay awhile.

Let’s share a cup of coffee and a small chat— until our minds go beautifully astray.

-E