#notebook poetry

[archaickosmonot]

I've only ever done one of these thangs but I want to do more, it was fun. For best experience read in a Z shape ✨✨✨

[thisismynamenowxpoetry]

All I want to do is sleep

Because in my dreams

You know me

[thesandmanin1389ismytypeofguy]

And I struggle to stand, to breathe,

to see;

Why can't my pain be simple and sharp.

Instead

It tastes like a sweet, rotten fruit flowing slowly through the veins and pushing out through the nose.

[obsob]

to be loved is to be held!!! print

[resqectable]

The scariest thing about distance is you don’t know whether they’ll miss you or forget about you.

The Notebook

[thoughtkick]

You can’t live your life for other people. You’ve got to do what’s right for you, even if it hurts some people you love.

The Notebook

[flwrkid14]

Love, Scribbled in the Margins

Tim keeps journals—pages filled with scattered thoughts, half-formed ideas, reminders hastily scribbled in the margins before they slip from his mind. His penmanship is erratic, sometimes neat, sometimes a barely legible scrawl. There’s no structure, no careful curation—just the unfiltered chaos of his thoughts, poured onto the pages with reckless honesty.

Danny finds them everywhere.

There’s one on Tim’s desk, filled with quick notes and unfinished sketches. Another by the bed, pages warped from where Tim has knocked over his coffee more than once. One tucked into his jacket, carried with him wherever he goes. And when Danny opens them, he finds something unexpected.

Not plans for patrols. Not mission reports or Gotham’s latest conspiracies.

No, these journals are something else. Something just for Danny.

There are messy, hurried notes—things Tim meant to tell him but hadn’t yet, thoughts that slipped his mind in the rush of the day. Scattered reminders: Tell Danny about the ghost dog that stole my sandwich. Ask Danny if ectoplasm works the same way as Lazarus water. Danny likes lemon biscuits. Find a good recipe?

There are doodles, too. Little sketches of Danny in the margins, some more detailed than others. A rough, unfinished one of him asleep on the couch, another of his hands, a quick, cartoonish scribble of Danny sticking his tongue out with the words annoying boyfriend scrawled underneath.

It’s messy. It’s chaotic. And it’s so Tim.

Danny had always imagined love as something poetic, something grand and beautiful, the kind of thing written in sweeping verses that promised forever. The kind of love you read about in stories, in letters written with elegant penmanship, every word crafted with care.

Tim’s love isn’t like that. It isn’t neatly composed or carefully written.

It’s raw. It’s real. It’s a thousand little moments captured in ink-stained fingers and smudged notes. It’s love scribbled into the corners of his life, unpolished and unfiltered.

And Danny? Danny wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Because love, he realizes, isn’t always the kind you find in poetry. Sometimes, it’s a journal filled with half-finished thoughts and silly drawings. Sometimes, it’s a name written absentmindedly in the corner of a page, over and over again. Sometimes, it’s as simple as a note that says, Thinking of you.

Love doesn’t have to be perfect to be real. It doesn’t have to be grand to mean everything.

And like honey pulled straight from the comb, love is sweetest when it’s raw.

[reader-twisted]

[frosted-woods]

autumn time to be gay and totally fine and not miserable at all

[poetryevie]

Always the writer, never the muse ❤️

Each poem here is about the romantic love I felt in my teenage years. They are safely stored in “Paramour” ❤️, the second thematic chapter of my upcoming poetry collection, “ABSENT”

“Paramour” ❤️ is the second chapter of my debut poetry collection; it tells the story of my teenage concept of love, narrating my own experiences, relationships and notions of romance whilst still a child.

I absolutely love the poems here; they are all so sentimental and dear. It illustrates just how passionately I can love.

this is evie ©️

[thedeadpoetsraven]

𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛, 𝑚𝑦 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚.

— Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

[perfectquote]

You can’t live your life for other people. You’ve got to do what’s right for you, even if it hurts some people you love.

The Notebook

[thisismynamenowxpoetry]

I won't be a casualty, I can't be, I can't go delirious from hunger, No, I have to stay here Waiting for you

[asoftepiloguemylove]

on love, even in death

Madeline Miller The Song of Achilles // Rainer Maria Rilke The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge // Romeo + Juliet (1996) dir. Baz Luhrmann // Richard Siken "The Torn-Up Roads," Crush // Keaton St James (@boykeats) Matthew 19:12 // Lana Del Rey Born to Die // @/alessia.trunfio (instagram) // Florence + the Machine I'm Not Calling You a Liar // Michael Cunningham The Hours // System of a Down Lovely Day // Richard Siken "Planet of Love," Crush

[katabay]

PAGLUIB

way back in like. march?? I took a stab at writing some kind of kabitserye type of story but it was a mess: it kept veering off into murder mystery drama territory because I was reading a lot of murder mystery novels around then and it Wasn't Good because I hadn't tried writing mysteries, let alone murder mysteries, before lmao

I did write a handful of short mystery stories since then, so next year I might take a stab at this idea again now that I'm no longer jumping head first into a genre pool I don't know how to swim in :)

[thoughtkick]

The scariest thing about distance is you don’t know whether they’ll miss you or forget about you.

The Notebook