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falling in love used to be like breathing for me, like finding mention of it in old scrolls discovered during a dig. but now when I write to describe the loss, I’m unsure if any of the words belong together. they say a little bit of pain makes it real, yet I’ve tucked myself into sunsets that taste of red forgiveness, but I wanted you to be the reason I came home. I’ve got enough oceans for the both of us. I’m breathing, but I’m not alive. I’m just trying to find all the pieces of myself I lost when I lost you.

I die at the end of every poem.

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wax melting memories // jay brooks

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all the graves I’ve slept in were

never too deep to keep me from

climbing out, maybe poetry isn’t

about the words, just the way

your hands hold warmth against

tired eyes - ever since I memorized

your face, it has become so hard to

remember anything else, but I’m

swimming in a love so deep I only

take shallow breaths because I

know my heart can’t possibly

hold anything more - flowers still

look pretty in broken vases & your

love is beautiful no matter the shape

of your heart

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my favourite song isn’t one I

hear, it’s the one I feel when I

think of you & you’re this ache

scraping against my bones,

pounding through my veins;

I dream of you every night

only to wake alone again &

maybe I love you means if you

fall apart around me, I’ll always

keep the pieces safe, because

what I have with you, I don’t

want with

anyone else

[prattuuu]

For you, I'd wish upon the spaces between galaxies. I'd wish upon what stays when everything else is gone. I need to be sure of us, but what if stars break down because of the weight of unfulfilled wishes? my lungs can’t fill the memories of us faster than a covalent sunrise, but I'll always try to be the one less battle you have to fight in a day, the one less bad thought at night. I'll always try to be one more laughter you share in a day, one more soft memory you carry through life. darling, the more time I spend with you, the safer my heart feels.

We really don't need much to be happy, it's just that too many things keep us sad.

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“I am so afraid of disappointing the people I love, I often forget that I am someone I love too. And I need kindness just as much as I believe the people I love do.”

— Nikita Gill

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This is one of my favorite piece from my writings❤

Art via Pinterest.

#love #love quotes #quote #poems #deep quotes #lovecore #crazy in love #in love #poets on tumblr #poets on poetry #poetsofindia #tumblr love quotes #tumblr quotes #quotes on tumblr #artists on tumblr #feeloftheday #feelings

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The Shipfitter’s Wife

by Dorianne Laux

I loved him most when he came home from work, his fingers still curled from fitting pipe, his denim shirt ringed with sweat, smelling of salt, the drying weeds of the ocean. I’d go to where he sat on the edge of the bed, his forehead anointed with grease, his cracked hands jammed between his thighs, and unlace the steel-toed boots, stroke his ankles and calves, the pads and bones of his feet. Then I’d open his clothes and take the whole day inside me – the ship’s gray sides, the miles of copper pipe, the voice of the foreman clanging off the hull’s silver ribs. Spark of lead kissing metal. The clamp, the winch, the white fire of the torch, the whistle, and the long drive home.

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I’m a flower,

A flower that you water

A flower that you starve

A flower that you give light to

A flower then shunned to the dark.

I’m a flower,

A flower with no consistency

A flower caught in the in between

A flower on the verge of blooming

A flower then too afraid to be seen.

I’m your flower,

A flower that grows with your love

A flower that wilts with your neglect

A flower that fights through relentless dirt

A flower that’s never quite perfect

For you.

-JF-

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sometimes I feel like I'm the most loyal person. just saying.

we're friends? I'll always have you in my heart, ove you and appreciate you.

we haven't talked for too long? okay, that doesn't change anything. if you message me I'll happily message you back, I'll talk to you as if we weren't apart and tell you about everything that has been going on.

you've got problems? tell me about them, I'll listen.

everything you tell me is and always will be safe with me and I won't tell it anyone, not even my closest friend.

and if it's one thing, I'd never ignore you. I'll always turn towards you and reply, listen, whatever you need.

the problem just might be that I also do this if you hurt me. though that doesn't mean I forgot the pain you put me through.

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something something jon’s the archive etc. anyway, i don’t think pain will stop martin from getting one last hug.

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I will always remember the time with you, all the ups and downs. But the highs, the beautiful moments will always have a place in my heart. We were both young, stupid and made mistakes, we hurt each other even though we loved each other. That with us showed me that love alone is sometimes not enough. We were best friends, now we're just strangers but you'll always be my first love. I hope we will never forget what was between us, but i also hope that each of us will find happiness - the big, true love - the love that lasts until the end.

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“She realized that she has stopped living life. She’s literally just trying to get to the next day, just living in the thought of tomorrow. She’s not living, she’s waiting. And the trouble is, she doesn’t know what she’s exactly waiting for. She’s kinda scared for what it might be.”

— The Poetic Boy

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I‘m so deeply sorry that I didn‘t turn out how you wished I should be.

(-deepthoughtsvibes)

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I’ve reserved a room in my head for you, made the bed with fresh sheets, left open a window to air out the perfume from the last person to stay. I’ve filled a vase with wildflowers for you, pinned love poems to the edges of the mirror, rehearsed how I would welcome you in. Please ignore the way my hands shake as I offer you the key.

I’ve rolled your name around at the back of my mouth, practiced how I would offer it up to my heart, tasted it like the first piece of a new recipe. I’ve sung it under my breath to test how it sounds, paired it with endearments, written it in dedications. These days I keep it tucked next to my cheek, ready to pop out as soon as it is permitted.

Look, I’m not saying we’re the world’s next great romance. I’m not saying we’re a perfect match or soulmates or destined to run into each other’s embrace with a candy orange sunset backdrop. I’m saying I admire your jagged edges and honeyed thoughts, the shadowed mysteries of you I have yet to meet. I’m saying there’s an empty seat at my dining room table I’d like for you to fill.

I’ve reasoned with my better self to try to let you go, counted miles and paychecks and reality checks for why I shouldn’t burden you with my confessions, why I should choke these feelings down like a particularly rough bottle of tequila. My selfish self is winning, is writing love letters in hot pink ink that start with your name and end in lipstick kisses pressed to the page.

I’ve reserved a room in my head for you, set flowers on the nightstand, framed the window in heavy gauze drapes to give the room a golden glow. I’ve laid promises at the foot of the bed, left a fresh toothbrush on the pillow, done my best to welcome you in. Please ignore the way my hands shake as I offer you the key.

- Do You Accept, C.D. (chickadeeburns)

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