Tumgik
#poemblr
Text
Tumblr media
“Gilded, Singing” by Seraphine Saintclair
85 notes · View notes
azathothsdreamgrrl · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
538 notes · View notes
manicpixiepoetry · 1 month
Text
On my worst days, nostalgia hangs over my body like dead weight. I carry it with me everywhere, close my eyes when it whispers in my ear and I think this must be what rotting feels like.
Nothing will ever feel like home the way that it did back then. There are pieces of you buried in your childhood, things you did not- could not carry with you into adulthood. And you can’t ever go back.
Sometimes I feel the first warm, unsteady breath of spring and I’m staring at the promise of new flowers through the eyes of a pre-teen girl who so easily forgets the bite of winter. Who can’t fathom that there are entire years of frost ahead of her. And I can’t ever go back.
What is nostalgia, if not the quiet grieving over the loss of something you did not know you could lose?
319 notes · View notes
imfullofworms · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
There exists an original of this poem that I might share some day <3 but for now it seemed meaningless against the above
1K notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
If I had Three Lives by Sarah Russel
242 notes · View notes
lonelyfrenchpoet · 6 days
Text
I was just a kid
I was just a kid.
I wasn't supposed to see that.
I wasn't supposed to do that.
I wasn't supposed to feel that.
I wasn't supposed to hear that.
I was just a kid.
By Val (22.03.22)
151 notes · View notes
sageandscorpiongrass · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I am looking inward, You are looking at me.
Quote via. @/petfurniture on Twitter | The Dharma Bums, Jack Kerouac | The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays, Albert Camus | Nine, Sleeping At Last | The Essence of Hope: His Guiding Light, Randy Burns | Oak Tree Towering Prescence, Tatyana Fogarty | The Brothers Karamazov, Fyodor Dostoevsky | Don't You Wonder Sometimes?, Tracy K. Smith | Quote via. Roland Barthes | The Bug Collector, Haley Heynderickx | The Cottar's Pride - a Cottage Garden, Henry Sutton Palmer | Bitter Herb, Erica Jong | 1884, George Orwell
847 notes · View notes
theprofoundcosmos · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I remember you.
David Foster Wallace / Sylvia Plath / Sylvia Plath, in a letter to Ruth Tiffany Beuscher, July 1962 / Euripides, "Herakles" / Ryan O'connel / Clementine Von Radics, "In a Dream You Saw a Way To Survive; The Fear"
579 notes · View notes
golden-letters · 1 year
Text
some days im mothering the child within me who never got her words of comfort
you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine
i say to her, hugging her knees, 
it’s going to be okay, you’ll make it, you’ll be fine
869 notes · View notes
Text
I want
I like being an animal.
I like the dehumanization of it.
I want to be a powerful thing.
Sharp, snapping teeth and long dark claws.
I want someone to look at me and tremble.
I want someone else to be afraid for once.
I want someone to think "what is that thing?" as I close in on them
This small defenseless pup grew into a big scary beast with too many teeth and glowing white eyes and antlers dear God why does it have antlers?
The shoe's on the other foot now.
I have the power.
I am scary.
I no longer live motivated by fear like prey.
You are the prey now.
I am the predator.
Call me a monster.
Hate me.
You can't hurt me anymore.
682 notes · View notes
“Ghosts exist. Doubt me? Remember the person you once were, he or she died a long time ago. Yet remembering what you were once scared you to death. Or those who left really haven’t left after all; they’re still haunting you. Some say, “The type of ghost it is depends on the memories. Not all ghosts are scary and evil.” To that I say, “The scariest part is not the memories you shared, but what could’ve been done to prevent their disappearance.” And there’s nothing more terrifying than falling in love with someone you never imagined would turn into a ghost. You’d bring them back from the dead if you could. As if it were one of those nightmares when your legs stop you from running, and they’re just behind the closed door, and you’re two steps away from turning the knob to let them in. Contacting them only gets you short replies like “yes” and “no.”Now they move the planchette across the board to say goodbye. But it doesn’t matter how many times they say goodbye; they keep visiting, especially when you’re alone. The friendliest kinds of ghosts scare us the most; what an odd paradox that is. The nicest ones can leave your heart heavy with yearning. The fact is that it scares you not just the time of their unexpected arrival but even more so after their disappearance. After the flashbacks, there are clear visions of what might have been. Consequently, I am creeped out, scared, befuddled, and have chills as I recollect their touch. My house is haunted.” — A.N.D my stupid little tears spilled all over the paper as I was writing this (you would’ve thought I left my window open during a rain storm)
Tumblr media
526 notes · View notes
seraphinesaintclair · 10 days
Text
Tumblr media
“Death’s Fingers” by Seraphine Saintclair
322 notes · View notes
azathothsdreamgrrl · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
274 notes · View notes
manicpixiepoetry · 20 days
Text
I see my mother’s dreams behind my eyelids, watch it all play like an underfunded film every time I close them. I wonder if she can see it too, if she looks at me and sees my father’s eyes staring back at her and I wonder which one of us she regrets more.
To be the daughter of a young mother is to learn how to find love in resentment.
75 notes · View notes
imfullofworms · 9 months
Text
I wish you
were still you, but
time passes and
we grow and we
change and sometimes
we don't. So I am still
me, wishing you
were still you.
by me
378 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Urgent message to a friend in pain ~ Joseph Fasano
255 notes · View notes