#poertycommunity

[randik-86]

Red lace accentuates my curves,

Exposing every shape and form of my body,

Giving you the access that you need,

To take me as you please,

Come and show me love...

©️randik86

[loserarchivez]

[flimythings]

Writers--- they who carry the weight of the lost souls of those who never got to live.

—unknown

[prishasays]

One of the most beautiful yet hopeless-romantic sad comment I've ever read.

[fromdarzaitoleeza]

[riri-of-the-valley]

this is me if you even care

make reading a habit ☆ https://riri-of-the-valley.carrd.co/#

[oresteias-heart]

For the children of Gaza…

The world was made for children to fall and get back up again, not for them to fall into the loving arms of death so that he may lay them down softly into the heavens,

Oh sweet children of the worlds? Where have you all run off too? Are you hiding behind the trees? Or singing in your plays?

Oh sweet children of our world, where shall you return too? This place is broken and battered. Not fit for a growing child, yet will you return to the fields and play?

Will you dance upon the clouds?

Find a clearing in the sky, and pick apart the flowers to decorate the land with?

— Oresteia

[pessivert]

I’ve always admired a thunderstorm.

To have the strength to shed its tears and scream, loudly into the night.

To cause a scene, to flash its lights and shake the ground.

Weeping and wailing, waking me up from my shallow slumber.

I want to be the thunderstorm. A wild, unpredictable work of art. Undeniably beautiful, impossible to ignore.

As it winds rest again and the rain stops pelting, she knows she was heard.

I will be heard.

- Georgina W

[thefadingyouth]

Honor

//A found poem from the Raw Quote Master Doc//

The sins of the ancient burn the souls of the ancestors.

Stand in the ashes of a thousand dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. Their silence is your answer.

The penance you pay for the way you behave is written as plain as the name on this grave

What is better- To be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?

What can one do in the face of such monumental loss but breathe a weary sigh, for the world is a little quieter now.

[cuddle-pubble]

As a hopeless romantic, I have secretly tucked away a bucket list of experience in a folder called ‘someday’. Yet some of them have half happened and I say half because it was maybe with the wrong person. Some have yet to occur….. because I guess I’m still waiting for the right person.

I’m talking about photo booth kisses, simple and sweet. Handwritten letters “you were so exciting to meet”, dancing in the rain to the sound of our own heartbeat. A love that is easy yet complete.

Bucket list unending… everyday I see a glismpse of something new to add and hope for, a sunset with a picnic but then I get a little sad. People experience these everyday but how many take them for granted? I have been given flowers sure but they often come with a certain pain like a thorn that resurfaces.

Fairytale endings… yeah they must somewhere exist and I must be getting closer until the plot freaking twist. A garden where so many flowers are often mistaken for weeds… admiring roses, ignoring thorns wondering where my life now leads…..

Bucket list of experiences, handwritten notes, a distracting pair of eyes and a handful of ‘somedays’

[repeatednap-k]

Burning Cliche

Before withering away,

catch fire, hold the blaze,

watch crimson melt,

smoke-filled haze

dance with flames

get lost in a gaze

doesn't last long

enjoy tiny cliches

RepeatedNap -K

[ilegisell]

Te libero de mí y de mis estúpidas ganas de romanticar lo que un día fue. Y de lo desastroso que podría llegar a ser.

Solo eran dos niños de 13 y 15 años enamorándose en verano.

El la vio primero y tuvo la suerte de que a ella le pareciera lindo: ojos felinos, café profundo, pestañas negras y tupidas, cejas muy pobladas, cachetes redondos y labios sumamente besables.

Se enamoró completamente, tan completamente como puede sentir una niña de 13 años.

Los recreos juntos pasaban volando y de una semana a otra sintió que nadie la conocía como él.

Era un amor dulce, cada día era una nueva aventura, una nueva emoción, cada risa y cada lágrima se recuerda tan real, tan conectada al alma.

De eso hace 10 años o más, sentían todo de una manera tan extrema que eso los logró separar, for good. Sin rencores ni enojos.

Pero si con nostalgia y preciosos recuerdos: de crecer juntos, aprender y experimentar juntos.

Ahora te libero, te libero de mí y de mi recuerdo, de lo que fuimos y también de lo que nunca llegó a ser.

Te libero de mí sonrisa y de mi llanto.

Te libero de pasear en tu camioneta azul, de comer papas fritas del centro. De aprenderme tu música favorita.

Te libero de nuestras primeras veces.

De mi drama y de no saber cómo expresarme, de mi sentimiento de ser menos, de mis inseguridades sin sentido.

Te libero de mi disfuncional familia.

Te suelto con el corazón, cortando un hilo invisible que no se ve, pero que estaba tenso a la distancia.

Te suelto para que la felicidad te encuentre, así como lo hizo en ese año 2000 y algo cuando cruzamos miradas por primera vez.

Te libero de mi corazón y de mi mente que les gusta romantizar cada diálogo, ponen los recuerdos en tono sepia y le hacen zoom a la sonrisa con la que cada noche me iba a dormir.

Te libero para que la felicidad me encuentre a mi también.

[the-hopeless-love-poet]

I love enemies to lovers but listen

Childhood bestfriends to strangers to enemies to lovers >>>>

[betweenpinkandbluewalls]

Your love is so beautiful

It changed me

Dont question “how much I love you “?

I have started writing on you !

[gelomello205]

[lyvantium]

The Elder Vampire: Osiris Lyvantium, from Magick and Immortals. ❝ As mortality tore at the edges of the world, Osiris crushed eons in a single gaze, for his soul was tethered to a blood-stained sky, and his hunger weighed heavier than all the planets combined. ❞            Poetry & Artwork by Arthur Crow © 2023