Tumgik
#heart break poem
gay-poet-from-hell · 1 year
Text
You held me
Keeping me safe
Until my safety meant too much
Until I was too much
Until I was no longer shiny and new
And I was so mad at you
I loved you
Like I’ve never loved anyone before
With my full heart
And ever bit of my soul
21 notes · View notes
aniah-who · 1 year
Text
Heart Surgery
I can’t get him out of my head and I don’t know what else to do. I just can’t help but to feel this way. I mean, I could try to ignore my feelings, but I’ll only end up hurting myself much more in the end than I am right now. Emotions, they’re such a powerful thing. How is it that we become so easily attached? He’s wrong for me in all of the wrong ways and I’m not afraid to admit that. I just want so badly for him to be right in all of the right ways. But the sad truth is, I know he’ll never be. One of the hardest things I’ve learned to do is surrender and submit to You, Jesus, so that Your will can be done in my life. God, it’s so hard but I know it’s what I must do. He will never be mine and it’s why my heart desperately needs an emergency operation. If I can’t hug him, if I can’t hold him, if I can’t stand beside him, if I can’t stand with him, if I can’t be his, then I don’t want to feel the way that I do. But before I undergo the surgery, please God, I pray, give me a little anesthesia because It hurts too much already and you haven’t even made any incisions yet.
9 notes · View notes
luxlightly · 1 year
Text
It always upsets me so much when I see interpretations/illustrations of the two headed calf poem that show a living calf being torn away from its mother and killed to sell to a museum and framing the poem as being "humanity kills beautiful things for being different".
Two headed cows almost never survive more than a few hours after their birth. The farmer finds the *body* the next day. The calf was destined to die, and that's a tragedy, but for the time it was alive, it had a beautiful and unique experience.
It's not a poem about the cruelty of man. It's a poem about the beauty of life in an indifferent universe. It's about purpose and beauty being able to exist even in an existence doomed to come to an end, as all our lives are. It's not a poem about how a calf dies, but how, even for only a brief moment, it was alive.
And, for that moment, because of that life, however fleeting, the sky had twice as many stars.
92K notes · View notes
despondentbeauty · 7 months
Text
In another universe, you stayed.
— In this one, you didn’t and it ruined me.
7K notes · View notes
adyngraves · 1 year
Text
I brought your sweatshirt with me. I told myself it was just for the winter, to keep me warm.
Why then am I wearing it under my covers, staring at the name tag with your initials?
Why do I find myself sobbing when I realize your scent has far left the fabric?
Why can I not bring myself to wear it in front of others, like it is a little secret between you and I.
I brought your sweatshirt with me. Do you want it back? Please take it back.
-AG
0 notes
nichohnedich · 8 months
Text
you didn't say goodbye and part of me believes that means you are coming back
2K notes · View notes
thetypewriterdaily · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
soft remimder❤️‍🩹
605 notes · View notes
the-knife-in-my-heart · 6 months
Text
you were supposed to be the one. you were supposed to be different. you were supposed to be mine.
and all you ended up being was another lesson.
610 notes · View notes
momochasworld · 5 months
Text
I will be everywhere you look but nowhere to be found and that will be my revenge.
- Aurora Raine
367 notes · View notes
bright-and-burning · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
alex albon x the swimming lesson by mary oliver
(x x x x x x x x x x x)
161 notes · View notes
havingapoemwithyou · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
meditations in an emergency by Cameron Awkward-Rich
591 notes · View notes
gay-poet-from-hell · 1 year
Text
I wish I could text you and tell you thank you
I wish I could see you and tell you you hurt me
I wish I could talk to you and say I’m sorry
I wish I could sit with you and share our stories
I wish I could stand next to you and tell you
I have not forgotten you
I have moved on
I no longer wish to hold you in my arms
Or hear you say my name
But I do wish you could see me now
And see how I’ve grown
I wish you could meet who I love now
And see that I’ve healed
26 notes · View notes
athousandbyeol · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
this is a love story witnessed by the last twilight sky.
217 notes · View notes
strawberries-666 · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
141 notes · View notes
hexitca · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
When love beckons to you, follow him,      Though his ways are hard and steep.      And when his wings enfold you yield to him,      Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.      And when he speaks to you believe in him,      Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.      Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.      Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself      He threshes you to make you naked.      He sifts you to free you from your husks.      He grinds you to whiteness.      He kneads you until you are pliant;      And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.      All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.      But if in your heart you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,      Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.      Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.      Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;      For love is sufficient unto love.      When you love you should not say, “God is in my heart,” but rather, “I am in the heart of God.”      And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.      Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.      But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:      To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.      To know the pain of too much tenderness.      To be wounded by your own understanding of love;      And to bleed willingly and joyfully.      To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;      To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;      To return home at eventide with gratitude;      And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
On Love Kahlil Gibran (1883 –1931)
328 notes · View notes
letsswaytogether · 6 months
Text
“It was September. In the last days when things are getting sad for no reason.”
Ray Bradbury, "The Lake", The October Country (via altruisticwriter)
195 notes · View notes