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that ‘when mcr say they want to be dangerous they really mean gay’ post is hilarious but also like. yes. exactly. that’s what they were going for. that was on purpose.

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“Today I forgive myself. Not just once. Again, and again, and again. As many times as it takes to find peace.”

— Unknown

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28

With age I have learned to embrace the heartaches. I no longer dread their comings or flashbacks, but brace myself for how they have and will teach me. Mold me. Ready me for you. Every impossible tear, made it possible for my heart to love you. Without those salty daggers, I would not know how to love you, how I want to love you. I am grateful for the misery and will never shy away from its company again if that is what is meant for me. But I know it isn’t—you are. Maybe not forever, or maybe for eternity. I cherish every laugh and catalogue it into the back of my mind, just in case it is our last. My heart has been searching for you in places I will never go again and it has taken all the right hits and weathered into something meant for you and only you. But if you are not my forever, I will be happy for another chiseled mark in my heart of stone, just waiting for the masterpiece to be finished so my heart can love without worry ever again.

-a. f. j.

#poems on tumblr #spilled thoughts #spilled words #new poets society #excerpt from a book i'll never write #poets corner #unspoken thoughts #things ill never say #unrequited love #poets on tumblr #original poetry #prose poetry #love poem #writers and poets #original content #original writing #spilled poem #wordsnquotes #writer #excerpt from a book i plan to write #writers on tumblr #spilled writing

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It’s a bittersweet comfort that my heart does eventually forget the hits it’s taken by past lovers, but each new blow hurts more than the last. It is harder every time, never easier. And because each hit is worse than the previous, bigger, more infected, it takes each new wound longer to recover from the beating it is taking searching for the one my heart was made for. Will they even recognize mine when we find each other, or will the scars deter them?

#poems on tumblr #spilled thoughts #spilled words #new poets society #excerpt from a book i'll never write #poets corner #unspoken thoughts #things ill never say #poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #spilled writing #spilled poetry #unrequited love #writerscorner #writer #words #poems and quotes #original poetry #writing #excerpt from a book i plan to write #poet #writers and poets

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It doesn’t seem to matter what I’m doing at 2 am, your ghost always finds me and slaps me back to a time when I writhed underneath you and cherished my hands on your chest. I can be reading whatever is closest to me, driving home from work, or having the most bittersweet nightmare. No matter where I am, or what I am doing, your ghost will follow me around like it belongs nowhere else. Do you ever notice it’s missing?

a. f. j.

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I do not know many things, my love

but I know — for you

even my hate will be soft.

I’ll be writing poems about you until I die.

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you aren’t hollow when you’re filled with the remnants of stars.

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Maybe there isn’t a word yet for what we are to each other. I do not know how to simplify what you mean to me, and I to you, in one word or phrase. The usual terms leave much to be desired, they don’t entirely fit us right—but boy you fit me like the little black dress I put on when we go to an upscale dinner. You are everything I have ever dreamed of, and yet nothing like my dreams at all. We do not need to be understood by anyone’s definition of love but our own. We were made to make our paths intertwine.

-a. f. j.

#poems on tumblr #spilled thoughts #spilled words #new poets society #excerpt from a book i'll never write #poets corner #unspoken thoughts #things ill never say #poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #excerpt from a book i plan to write #prose poetry #poets #prose poem #poetsandwriters #poetscommunity #writing #writerscommunity #writerscorner #words #wordsnquotes #writer #original poem #poetryportal #female poets #love poem #poets on love #spilled poetry #spilled poem #writers

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You see me as heartless and cold. I see my heart shriveled up and taking its time to replenish itself so it can be warm and inviting once again. You see me as cruel, but I have to protect myself. I haven’t always had boundaries, I didn’t know how to say “No” until I was 27. But now I say N O to anything that doesn’t bring me joy, or comfort, or growth. I have never loved myself better. If that doesn’t fit into your box of who I am supposed to be, or what compassion looks like, then I am happy to break your molds for you and tell you the story of how I finally learned to stop giving everything to everyone but me, and give my heart a rest.

-A. f. J.

#poems on tumblr #spilled thoughts #spilled words #new poets society #excerpt from a book i'll never write #poets corner #unspoken thoughts #things ill never say #poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #excerpt from a book i plan to write #writers #writers and poets #original poem #prose poem #prose poetry #poetry #poetscommunity #writerscommunity #self worth #spilled poetry #words #spilled poem #writing #wordsnquotes #writer

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Have been in the midst of some huge life changes, and thus not as much time to write. Lots to share soon. ❤️

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About a decade ago, Pete Wentz of Fall Out Boy (and James Montgomery of MTV) published a novel, Gray. It is my favorite book of all time. It is— for lack of a better term— “a freeze-dried wet dream.” 

People are usually appalled when I tell them this; they think I must be the dumbest fangirl alive. It's understandable. After all, Gray is the vanity project of a runner-up for 2007’s Sexiest Vegetarian, and has been referred to as “an insult to book readers everywhere." 

But truthfully, this is not my favorite book because I like Fall Out Boy— rather, I like Pete Wentz's band because I fell in love with his book. From the moment I first picked Gray up, I felt—very strongly— that there was something inside of it, something that went beyond the veneer of "pseudo-artistic" misanthropy it put up. It was a carefully crafted puzzle. It was so advanced that no one understood it. I was sure of it— even if nobody ever believed me. 

But over the last ten years, I grew from an emo teenager into a professional writer. So now, I can prove that I've been right along; Gray is an incredible work of literary showmanship. It's just misunderstood. So, in honor of its big anniversary, this love-dissertation seeks to dissect and defend my favorite book of all time. 

In this essay, I begin by fully contextualizing the creation of Pete Wentz and James Montgomery's Gray. Then, I explain the novel's identity as a "roman-a-clef," and thus, its place on the spectrum between fiction and reality. Finally, I argue my thesis. Which is: Gray deliberately masquerades as exactly what people expect it to be: the rant of a narcissistic rock star “so shallow an ant would struggle to drown." But a reader with a little faith will understand that things are not always what they seem. Rather, Gray brilliantly executes its stated intention by blending paradoxes like irony / authenticity, reality / fantasy, truth / lies, and satire / sincerity, into a narrative so ambiguous it “defies understanding, let alone a solution.”

But only if you're in on it.  

Read the full piece here.

Incredible art by @gebtoons.

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WHAT FUCKING YEAR IS IT

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“I kept always two books in my pocket: one to read, one to write in.”

— Robert Louis Stevenson

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WHAT FUCKING YEAR IS IT

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I envy people that lived in one house growing up. They haven’t left little pieces of themself in each and every place, there is this foundation made of where they come from and who they are. I have lost parts of me in various towns and people along the way. So many, I could not possibly gather them all again and make it whole. I am not green, but I am aware. It’s impossible to know who I am or where I come from, so I must pick my own place to run to and build my own foundation with my own hands.

-a. f. j.

#poems on tumblr #spilled thoughts #spilled words #new poets society #excerpt from a book i'll never write #poets corner #unspoken thoughts #things ill never say #poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #words #spilled poetry #writing #poetry #writers #spilled poem #wordsnquotes #words ill never say #prose poetry #prose poem #original poem #poets #lit #writer #poet #poetryportal #literature