#truly poetry in prose

[usefulquotes7]

An intimate relationship does not banish loneliness. Only when we’re comfortable with who we are, we can truly function in a healthy way. Unknown

[always-a-joyful-note]

Low quality and low effort explanation of my feelings about the two recent song releases

[vampiric-prose]

I truly believe we can’t love what we don’t understand.

We can appreciate things and like things and feel certain emotions

But we cannot love something til we understand it.

You would not tell someone you loved a poem and not be able to tell them what it’s about,

What it meant to you,

How you understand it.

You would not say such a thing about a book, or a painting, or a sculpture,

or a sunset, or the sensation of warm water on your hands,

or a play,

or a person you swear you love.

[ackerlag]

someone once said, "problems are forever." it's just something you go through as life progresses. i've always found it correct — and comforting. if problems are forever, i don't have to attach meanings to every single one and wear myself out trying to swallow down the pill of what happened.

now, staring into the diminishing digits of my bank account, i realize that problems truly are forever. i've faced this same demon a month ago, half a year ago, a year ago with the same trepidation and dread i do now.

when i was four, my father quitted his job to start a new business. it was a part of the seas none of us had ever stepped into before, let alone me — i was four — nor my sister who was just born. i remember my mother telling me that we'd be wearing our belts tighter from now on and i remember nodding to her words, not really understanding what was going on. together and armed with a goal, they stopped fighting so much over silly little grown-up things i didn't understand and began moving together to a common goal. it made them strong and resilient even as waves and waves of unexpected things crashed on their shores. by the time i was nine, the boat that was rocked in the storms started moving more stably and daily sunshines as we sailed became something i could appreciate more.

now i am twenty four. i understand myself when i sit under the dim light of my rented place that i have to tighten my belt more. this is just what sailors do — i would tell myself, late at night — we get ready to face the monsters and the horrors of the sea this way. but the days stretch longer and longer and the nights drive me crazy. waves kept coming to shake my ship and i'm all alone in this wooden vessel this time, keeping myself afloat and struggling to not be blown away too far off course when the wind hits particularly hard. my mother, my father, my baby sister — none of them helps me weight down this ship, they're elsewhere, on another ship i call home — though the way the plank creaks beneath my feet and the way it sways throughout the night now feel unfamiliar.

there are days i wonder if my belt isn't tight enough. there are nights i wonder if i'm doing something wrong. if the direction the boat is going is facing against the wind. if the sails aren't raised high enough. if the seas are tired of supporting the ship as i am of it. and then i tell myself, i tell myself, i continue to tell myself: "problems are forever," "problems are forever," "problems are forever" — when one side of the ship needs a repair, life just naturally moves so that i have to run there and replace the rotting parts and throw it out, only to be faced by the fact that another part of the ship needs my attention. there are days i wonder if i need a second pair of hand to deal with it all. there are nights i wonder if i'm just doing something wrong. life at the sea is a vast horizon of blue and more blue, without an end or a beginning. i hardly remember where i came from and i can't even consider turning back for a home lost in the limitless ocean, only that my belt has to remain tight and problems are forever and i have to keep going, keep going, keep going for a harbor i don't know for sure exists.

[brechtian]

going from the waves one of the most beautifully written novels of all time to a YA low effort book written by Brandon cranks 5k words out a day Sanderson sure is . something.

[mejomonster]

Sometimes I feel like I write really... simple? Which isn't a bad thing. Just sometimes rereading my stuff feels like I'm reading a fairy tale (ignoring the actual Faerie Stories I write galore lol)

[hobgodling]

Q: Are you pleased with how your life turned out?

A: I'm definitely not where I wanted to be at 23. I've got so many regrets I can't keep them all inside; every so often they explode out of me to add another layer of dust to the floor. Oh, sure, there's good parts too, but it's hard to focus on those when I'm stuck working a minimum wage retail job and am on year 5 of my 3 year study.

Q: How much further do you have to go?

A: In university? Half a year, but that's only if I manage to write that email I've been dreading. As for the rest? Well, I've said before that it's a never-ending fight and I stand by that. The world is an ocean, life is a storm, and I'm in the middle trying to make it to a shore that may not even exist.

Q: Are you doing your best?

A: It's not like I'm a great swimmer. I'd say I'm average. I don't think I'm making any forward progress, but at least I'm keeping my head above the storm-swept water. To put it another way: I'm a tardigrade in tun, waiting for a more hospitable environment. But is that my best? To be honest, I'm not sure what my best is anymore. Let me ask you this: If a glass statue falls and no one is around to see it survive, does it even matter that it did?

Q: Do you feel helpless?

A: Isn't it obvious? I'm lagging and trying to keep up is fucking exhausting. If there was something I could do to change that I would, but like I said: I'm just not a great swimmer. I dread the day I get left behind completely, but what scares me even more is the possibility that I already have been.

Q: When did you know it was too late?

A: When I realized the email won't matter. I never signed up for the class.

Q: How much more can you withstand?

A: These days I feel fragile as glass. One push and down I go.

Q: Do you feel as if things are getting better?

A: I suppose it's true that I've survived every fall so far, and they do say that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. But "better" is just as nebulous as "best". To be honest, I don't think I'll ever make landfall. To be even more honest, I don't know if I want to. How can I leave behind the rough ocean waters when they're all I've ever known?

Q: What will tomorrow be like?

A: Water as far as the eye can see, my head just barely afloat above the raging waves. To put it another way: Tomorrow is the ground coming ever closer. The only question that really needs asking is this: Will this be the fall that breaks me?

-- A poem (?) written using several questions from @nosebleedclub's i have questions tag.

[snperuova]

“she is the sun. the center of every universe she is apart of. everyone in the room is immediately drawn to her when she enters. she is golden hour, for i can take the best pictures in the light she provides. she is pure gold, more precious than any other element. sunshine runs through her veins. her arms provide more warmth than a million heaters combined could. her skin glows every so gently, it’s hard to resist touching. she was formed from a droplet of sunlight. she is the sun.”

[snow-poetry]

Once Again

My bare feet have become acquainted with the earth

My ears have come alive with her song

My eyes— brightened by the day, darkened by the night—

awakening only only within filtered sunlight

The breath of life is all around me

What better way to return to thee

than with the aroma of a garden in my clothes

than with the fragrance of figs on my breath

with cherries staining my lips

and wildflowers in my hair?

To divide the day only by my rest and my hunger

and the soft grumblings of afternoon thunder

And when my mind craves

she looks not in dead water or dark caves

but rather in the living wells of knowledge and wonder

To follow Highway 28 and find an eden

and the quiet, moving sea

between my passion and my reason

And to come to find that beauty lies

in the hidden spring between birth

and death and the ripening of dreams

-Snow

[honeytusk]

[sugarpopss]

Give it up for being on the other side of unrequited love. For the guilt that leaves teeth marks on your bones, for the shame that crawls up your throat like bile. For having to look someone in the eyes and know that there's no possible outcome in which you don't hurt them. For knowing that everytime they tell this story, you'll be the villian. For hearing your own apologies ring hollow, the sound echoing out of the canyon that's been carved between you two. For not knowing, for not meaning to, for being sorry, for wishing you could, for knowing you can't.

[raze-animus]

your obedient dog, that is who i am

i have always said just what you wanted to hear,

but is it what i mean? i could not tell you

your love might be everything i have ever needed,

so i wait for it you say it will come,

but i have been sitting by your side for months, years

and have nothing you have my body

i gave it to you, just as i gave you my heart, my thought

i bear my teeth but it's a smile for you

the violent wolf i have always claimed to be has been tamed,

i am what you want i am what you need

i am the companion you hold by your side, what you take

take for granted, maybe take away from, maybe

and i will continue to let you take, take, and take from me

because the thought of just your love

is sweet enough to keep me around, tame and quiet

sweet enough, so i am your obedient dog

[onthepyre]

i have your hand in my right and hers in my left, but she knows only of what she feels. and though i lean down to kiss her hand, a practiced gesture, it's my sweat between your fingers that almost means more. i haven't had someone like this in more than a decade and i had forgotten what the feeling was like, the pure and complete love i can hold for those that are not, when it comes down to it, mine. and i do love her - there is no question about that, it's been written about hundreds of times - but oh, how i have missed the affection that means nothing deeper, the warmth of a hand that almost engulfs my own. i have hope for my future with her, but i believe from the bottom of my heart that you and i are set in stone.

[lotusbergamot]

the addiction of sadness

i think i’m addicted to it. the sickness that fills my stomach, the realization of the busy, unwavering world outside the paused snow globe that i call home. the world moves on without me. the gut-wrenching cruel truth, shit, i’d rather just lay like i once was in my mother’s womb and think thoughts of mutilation.

[thinkinpoink]

.

[magpie-mutters]

prima ad Keres, Nemesis, Eris et Ate a pica

To the Keres, Nemesis, Eris, and Ate, 

I build to a point of destruction and wrath where the only pace would be to claw my skin off my face and tear myself out of this body. 

There comes a point when the scale seems stuck and one itches for a rash decision, the push of fate, the choice of no return 

To teeter on the balance 

And 

      To fall to one side 

I crave recklessness and chaos as if it's the only retribution I’ll know and the only one silence will gift me. I hunger for it with a feeling that gnaws at me with sharp teeth and claws. I keep my nails blunt. 

I feel the urge to burn it all to the ground - all the relationships that ever stung or nipped at my heels. The call of a deep void. But I stand my ground. 

The feral cowed part inside me begs to bless the world around me in ruin. 

Blind. 

Reckless. 

Ruin. 

as if it thinks that will staunch the feeling of helplessness and hopelessness. 

I hold those feelings close to me like one holds a wild animal desperate for escape. 

At times I feel like I’m just a body shaped cage carrying a cacophonous flock of birds from room to room, wings ruffling, screeching, beating against the bars, beaks sharp and eyes shining, fighting to get out. 

~Magpie