writerins - Tumblr blog

[writerins]

itd be a mockery to call you the love of my life if ill love you even after i die

[writerins]

lovely you

with this hand ill carve out my love for you

its written across my skin

and through my eyes i write my wants

with you id read it every day

with my belongings id pack them up

ill move away from comfort

and ill move into the inevitable

i am a criminal of love

i have murdered all of my innocence

and with your memory ill sit in my cell

i count the days im unmoved, un touched

like an unused toy i sit unconscious

unable to move without guidance

[writerins]

the silent sad girl

growing up i was always the quiet kid.

corner desk in the back, arm covering the corner i was drawing on. leg bouncing irregularly as i hear everyone conversating.

i hear everything, its overwhelming. she said this and he did that. i realize the people in the room. i worry about how im sitting, how my face looks, did i wear the right pull over today? maybe i should wear a white one tomorrow, maybe itll make me look better to people.

from long stares into nothing to constant glances around the room. everybody was a spectator.

"youre really quiet" "wow! you talk?" "look guys shes smiling" "im your bestfriend right?"

thats who i was. quiet kid. always quiet. speaking put a spotlight on me, a spotlight i never asked for. like a jester preforming for all the royalty in the world. i was the show whenever i made a move, so i never moved.

i grew tired of the mockery. tired of being the pet. tired of preforming. being the entertainment when i never asked to being the entertainment on my own acord.

i gave myself up to everyone that wanted me. the only time i was treated like a person was when i was under somebody. when i was used for something.

id never go to the next level though. probably because i knew i never wanted it at all. i just wanted to be treated nicely.

it always failed though, because id never give myself up completely. it always went back to radio silence and silent rooms where i could only hear my breath, my heartbeat and laughter from people that are never me.

[writerins]

for you

I'll be the sun

if you want to be the moon

I'll be every single star

if it means I'll get to be with you

[writerins]

reavling nobody

on the outside is me and underneath my skin there is a real me that nobody talks to.

[writerins]

fathers through the eyes of a lonely child

a father couldn't nuture. a father couldnt care. a father wants to play and be fun while the mother waters the seed of this life. a father wouldn't craddle the life that has been created just for him, wrapped in a bow. a father goes into things with intention, a mother goes in with curiousity.

the father would never be the mother, the mother wouldnt have a father. the father is a concept but never the reality.

[writerins]

everywhere

and suddenly

every song

became about you

and suddenly

everything

was about you

in everything

youre a reflection

everywhere

no matter the direction

it leads up to u

[writerins]

she who walked away

i think id like to see you in the open

things like this just stain my reality

i think i am just coping

days like this i would just rather be

days with you i spend in my memories

countless nights thinking of you

i like you when you stand right next to me

but who am i too tell you what you should do

i remember what you used to say

you should get up and walk away

i listened and then i stayed

you got up and thats just yesterday

they all told me it wouldn't last

but who am i to listen to that

i guess thats just the past

the time that i spent where is it at

[writerins]

only you

you told me that

i need to move on with my life

i would do that

if you only stayed just one more night

you said i need to forget you

that only drove me on

i said i could never resent you

so i made you all these songs

youre beautiful right there

just stuck in my memories

your kinda love isnt rare

but it means everything to me

you said i need to get a new one

you left and u wished me good luck

well its kinda hard to get a move on

when only in my mind you are stuck

[writerins]

girl like you

pretty girl like you

dont you see that i love you too

no other girl like you

wont you come over for just a few

the brightest star in my sky

im the moon thats following you

youre the only one id come to

i only shine when you want me too

id only try when you try

prettiest girl i know

youre the only one that I see

you said keep our love on the low

never thought youd go and flee

its late and its getting dark

a match box that can get no light

but you give me just the right spark

youre my day and im your night

[writerins]

thinking of you is dangerous for a girl like me

I remember smell your cologne

when I'm alone

I see your face

I dont know how to act all grown

do you feel the same

I feel like a child for wanting things

that's how I was raised

I see you in my romantic dreams

but you dont seem that fazed

am I crazy for thinking of you

on lonely silent nights

could u come over for just a few

I could drink up all your sight

I want to want you deeply

so much that it hurts me

I want you to think of me weekly

but I'll just let you be

[writerins]

Narrator

I’ve always been the narrator in others lives

Always watching what they do or say

At times it becomes so consistent that I predict it

I’m the spectator in the lives of others

Curiously living through them

I notice the way the wind flew through your hair as we drove downtown

I notice the times you’ve held back a smile

I notice the way people go to open their mouths to say something then close it apon second thought

People have always interested me

So much so that I just became lost in their actions and words

I wonder if anyone else has watched me with the same interest

Carefully picking apart the way I carry myself

The way I play with my rings when I’m nervous

The way I watch others live out their lives

To avoid living mine

I worry too much what people think of me in a room

And yet I don’t feel alive in the room at all

I’m simply there to watch

To sit and listen

I don’t move the story forward

Nor do I tie up any resolution

I’m just there to spectate and that’s all

[writerins]

Lifeless

At the end of the day

I’m just a body

A lifeless sack

With no aspirations

No dreams

Just a full mind with no strive

No ambition

I’m just a creation of others thoughts

I’m a perception

An illusion

I’m untouchable and touched by all

All that gave me the time of day

I crave attention when I don’t want to be there

I crave conversation when I don’t want to talk

In my life all I do is crave

I crave for anything and want nothing to do with it

I’m a problem with no solution

A book without an ending

A song without the music

I’m half of a whole person and I am no one at all

I’m just a hallow shell

With nothing to offer

Nothing to give

And nothing at all

[writerins]

Thank you

First ever non-writing post. I just want to let everyone know that every note and repost on my writings mean the absolute world to me. It may seem like nothing and it might seem dumb but I love it so much.

I’ve been writing since I was in middle school and I posted my writings on a poem app that’s now shut down. I barley got any attention on them and I never show anyone that I know any writings, therefor I never got recognition for those writings. To have a platform where I get to be seen and to have people that like my work enough to repost or leave a note on it means to me than people would think. I don’t need the attention, don’t get me wrong.. I’ll write till I have nothing else to write but to at least have someone out there at least enjoy my work is pure joy id never knew I’d experience.

Thank you

[writerins]

The dead poets poem

I never wanted to be a song

I wanted to be a poem

I didn’t want to be understood

I wanted to be left up to the imagination

I wanted others to fill the gaps

What was left unsaid would be up to anyone who gave me the time of day

I never wanted to make sense to anyone

The reasons behind what I do are left unsolved

I don’t want to be comedy nor romance

I don’t want to be action nor drama

I want to be mystery

You figure me out

Take the time to dissect me

Mindlessly dig up the clues

Until it becomes unbarring

I want you to decide what I do

I want you to figure it out for me

[writerins]

Who is she

I look the girl staring right back at me

I’ve known her for many many years

I’ve grown up with her and have been there for all of life’s challenges

But I start to wonder “Who is she?”

What does she want to do, where does she want to go, what is her deepest desires in life and her most distasteful disgrace.

I know she loves music, she mainly likes to listen to the same artist or band and stick to it until she so happens to hear something else she likes. It gives her comfort in knowing she can play the same song she’s heard a thousand times and every time it will be the same. Maybe she’ll imagine a new scenario with it, maybe she’ll replay a scenario she’s already imagined before. No matter what tho she’ll stick close by that one song and expect nothing new, that’s how she liked it tho.

I know she also loves writing; she adores it even. She doesn’t think she’s smart enough to actually become a real writer.. says she doesn’t understand proper grammar or proper uses of the semicolon or even how to properly structure a sentence. She will still write her heart out into random things that come up in her head. I know she also wanted to become a poet when she was in middle school to express herself but has found joy in just writing freely now. She still loves writing poems; sometimes she’ll even write a song but she keeps those to herself since she can’t sing to show people how the song goes in her mind.

I know she also loves making art. She’s big into arts and crafts. Nothing makes her more happy than when people praise her for her work, although she’ll try her best not to show it you can always see the corner of her lips twitching as she tries to hold back a smile. She loves making clothes, jewelry, paintings, sketches, writings and the list goes on.

I guess she’s just a creator, was born to create in any way she can. It’s all she knows how to really do so she finds comfort in it. It’s sad in a way. If she’s not automatically good at one activity she’ll instantly drop it not wanting to deal with the embarrassment that comes with failing; so creation will always be her shelter of comfort and stability.

I know shes also hard to love. She’s stand offish and will ruin any good thing that comes across in order to feel comfortable in the consistency in chaos. She’s an addict through and through. She’s addicted to being wanted but never wants anyone, she’s addicted to sadness, she’s addicted to chaos, she’s addicted to all the bad feelings in life even if it’s hard for her to admit. She likes to think of herself as laid back and non caring but in reality she’s constantly thinking of the next worse thing.

I also know that she loves the shape of hearts, she loves how cute they are and how simple they are as well. She also loves wings and feathers, she thinks they’re pretty and whimsical in a way.

She loves many colors and never knows what to classify as her favorite so she always will change it up. Pink has been her go to color recently but she’s been switching over to red; who knows what her favorite color will be next week.

She also loves the numbers 16 and 23. She thought when she was younger that 16 would be her Golden year and that she would flourish into a beautiful woman, turns out she was just a kid who had the mind of a troubled adult. 23 is her birthday date so obviously she had to claim it as her favorite, she believes the number 23 suits her just as well.

She also loves to collect any skull looking object, she thinks they’re cool and give off a sort of hipster vibe.

I know so much yet so little about this girl in the mirror. Even after 19 years of living with her I know nothing about her. I know not one thing about who she is. I feel as if I know the basic things about her, things that if u were a friend of hers you’d know but I truly do not know anything about this girl as I should. She holds no hope, no desire, she holds no promises for a next day. She’s like an empty hallow she’ll of a person. An armor with no one inside of it.

You’d think I know more about myself but I am simply not there. I’m only a reflection without a body.

[writerins]

Know that I’m lonely

Do you ever wish you were in a relationship?

Many times have I gotten this question

Many times I act to ponder upon it as if I don’t have the answer already

I say “No, I’ve never wished that”

I push that lie into your head

I set it up as if im unbothered

Unfazed about my own loneliness

In your eyes I wish to be indifferent about the idea of love and another

I wish to seem as if I don’t think about it late at night

The truth is, I want touch

I want conversation

I want late night holding as we watch a movie

I want to be desired by another

To be wanted by someone else is my guilty displeasure

I crave the gaze

I crave the emotion

I crave I crave I crave

I would never say it out loud

I would never let the universe know that I’ve been lonely forever

I would never let anyone know of my vulnerability

I will live lonely and I will die lonely

When I do they’d never feel bad

They’d never know how lonely I truly am

No one will ever know