ink-stainedpaws

[ink-stainedpaws]

the sea is scary

but it's calling me; the waves

is shouting my name

kosma the wildcat.

[ink-stainedpaws]

Night fell, and the statue in the garden whispered a secret: "True love's kiss will mend your heart; it will end the weeping, and the loneliness within you will depart..."

And so, I embarked on a quest for a true love's kiss. I wandered from dimly lit room to dimly lit room, where harsh lights blinded me. I engaged in conversations with strangers whose rough hands bruised my body and whose presence suffocated my soul with the scent of cigarettes and intimacy. The sounds of fake laughter and ecstatic screams assaulted my ears, and I nearly drowned in suicidal spirits. I stained a few sheets with lipstick and danced body to body in dark alleys; yet, despite all of this, I found nothing resembling a true love's kiss.

Loneliness intensified, and the weeping lingered. The garden transformed into a labyrinth, and the statue morphed into a ghost. And I am...

Ruined.

Wrecked.

Shattered.

I felt lost and hopeless until I caught a glimpse of my tortured reflection in the mirror. My heart ached with the desire to embrace the woman standing before me, to wipe away her tears while gently rubbing her back, to kiss those sobs away. To kiss her—the kiss of true love!

Alas! I now understand the secret of the statue in the garden: loving yourself is the true love's kiss. That is all you need to heal.

You will never find your true love's kiss on someone else's lips; it is the act of loving yourself that truly matters.

kosma the wildcat.

[ink-stainedpaws]

Do you believe in love at first sight 💕

Love is more than just a word or an emotion that can be felt at first glance; it is much deeper than that. You don’t simply love a song because of its title; you love it for how the lyrics resonate with your soul, how the melody soothes your turmoil, or how it evokes the chaos within you.

[ink-stainedpaws]

greetings, mortal or otherwise. 🐾

i go by kosma, luna, star or whatever name you’d give a stray cat who sleeps in your garden. i write poems — some are wild and thorny, some curl up beside you like a warm mug of tea. sometimes they rhyme, sometimes they bleed. always, they bloom.

🌼this blog is:

• a garden grown from metaphors

• pawprints in the margins

• petals falling in slow decay

• a shrine of stanzas

🏛️what lingers here:

• poems that purr or hiss

• flower crowns for the underworld

• familiars napping on marble ruins

• flowers with fangs

• myths retold with ink and gentleness

📖tags to wonder:

#poetry - like petals pressed between the pages

#poets on tumblr - where the ghosts live

#kosma the wildcat - delicate but never harmless

🖋️who i write for:

• the ones who name stray cats and cry when they leave

• the ones who press dried flowers into old books

• the ones who fall in love with ghosts, gods, & gardens

feel free to say hi.

just follow the pawprints through ivy.

or don’t.

this place is for drifting souls too. 🐾🌼🏛️📖🖋️

[ink-stainedpaws]

My sun,

I adore you.

Your warmth embraces thee,

driving away the monthslong storms

of life.

kosma the wildcat.

[ink-stainedpaws]

You never know what you might encounter at a funeral.

It might be the saddest goodbyes inscribed on those gravestones, each one a plea, begging and weeping for an end that never comes. Perhaps they are the ghosts of love that has perished, extinguished by countless mistakes and unfulfilled apologies. Conceivably, they represent the flowers that withered away from your greatest heartbreak—the one that plunged you into months of melancholy. Or perhaps they symbolize promises that melted away like candles, burned too soon and shattered far too quickly. Maybe it is a mournful version of yourself, grieving through eulogies after eulogies for a love story that could not be saved.

kosma the wildcat.

[ink-stainedpaws]

does time really heal a wound so deep?

every night thy heart aches and weep;

a foolish demeanor out of misery.

'til when will I succumb to this slavery?

hailing death to silently put me to sleep.

kosma the wildcat.

[ink-stainedpaws]

Your eyes speaks apathy when they look into mine. Your voice feels distant and you always got no time. Our river is too shallow and I've been pouring all my water for this love to flow yet you're running a different path that I couldn't follow. I should've known that your love was crumpled papers, throwing them all to me with scribbles I do not remember. My name wasn't written in any of your chapters but you wrote someone else's in capital letters.

How could you hold my hand? How could you embrace me while dreaming a different romance? You broke me, and molded me into someone I don't understand. Now, I've been searching for who I am.

kosma the wildcat.

[ink-stainedpaws]

she was as fragile as ceramic flower vases,

an open-book surrounded by masked faces.

and then she tasted sorrow, torment, and hate

that bear monsters who built tall walls with iron bar gate.

she was never been the same again, she who is now guided by the darkness.

kosma the wildcat.

[ink-stainedpaws]

fall? what a celebration!

dying, withering;

a beautiful end.

kosma the wildcat.

[ink-stainedpaws]

Mixed with golden rays, bronze and silvery pixie dusts,

them gods yielded you with boon and ghasts.

Blest with an ironclad exterior.

Incontestably born to become a warrior.

Annihilating life's vexing dilemma

and fighting the obscure abyss like a chimera.

Whomever try to ravage your being

will forsooth find themselves deceasing.

Albeit how cruel you may sound rumors float around;

heart so sweet like tart, soul so soft like a cloud.

You, whom lived through intense pressure and storm,

seeks tranquility and a home.

And those who've only seen the surface,

will never understand and will continue to speak malice.

kosma the wildcat.

[ink-stainedpaws]

Humanity is dead,

barbarity becomes a trend.

The world is full of malevolence.

Everyone is seeking for acceptance.

Porcelain hearts are imperiled,

radical minds are canceled.

Covetous eyes are everywhere.

Nations are hungry for warfare.

This reality is nothing but a nightmare.

kosma the wildcat.

[ink-stainedpaws]

sometimes love can't fill the void.

flowery words won't ease the pain.

an embrace can't fix the things that are destroyed.

and promises won't erase the stains.

there are doors that can't be sealed

and scars too deep to be healed.

kosma the wildcat.

[ink-stainedpaws]

thud. a tree fell down.

thud. and another.

thunder roars, "Stop killing them!".

kosma the wildcat.

[ink-stainedpaws]

i was born with pure curiosity

with a love for poetry and artistry.

i came from the gloomiest abode

and traveled endless roads,

to feed my hunger for aesthetics;

to feel the will to live and escape thy tragic.

kosma the wildcat.

[ink-stainedpaws]

Society's Women Protocols

"You need to be skinny! You need to be tall!"

They keep on blabbering until they make you bawl.

"Don't be like that! You're so off-the-wall!"

When will they ever know they're the reason of my downfall?

"You need to be pretty! You must look the best!"

They keep on comparing me to the rest.

"Don't eat too much! You don't have big breast!"

Their judgements weighs heavily on my chest.

"You need to be feminine! Buy cosmetics and use them all!"

They keep dressing me up like I am some doll.

"Don't act tough and bold! Be cute and small!"

I'm tired of this society's women protocols!

"You need to be smart! Become the greatest!"

Yet they only acknowledge my failed quests!

"Don't be too emotional! Don't become the dullest!"

But I'm distressed to function. I am now at my weakest.

kosma the wildcat.

[ink-stainedpaws]

i watch myself constantly looking for affection in every love song;

yearning for romance in every poem,

wishing for love that's a decade-long,

and hoping for a warm home.

pathetic.

weariful.

melancholic.

doleful.

kosma the wildcat.