To a Drowning Man
Here is the weight of a heart:
dreams gone ragged at the edges,
faded and frayed, the ghost of hope
rather than her full splendour,
and yet,
it’s enough, isn’t it? She sings
still, not siren but lullaby,
a reminder of strength
in darker times,
a hand offered
without expectation, just steady
and steady on—
the constant promise
of softness, breath
to a drowning man
who has ignored his own drowning—
sometimes, love is this
potential:
glimmer unexpected,
gentleness unasked for,
a silhouette standing in shadow,
imperfect heart
shining, a torch song
burning
against the dark.
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I understand that literature nerd Jason Todd is kind of overblown in fanon compared to it's actual presence in canon (a few issues during his pre (and post?)crisis Robin tenure that highlight it) BUT consider that I think it's hilarious if the unhinged gun toting criminal has strong opinions on poetry
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there is something so terrifying about wanting to be held,
a years deep ache in my bones,
like a child
sobbing
pleading for someone to notice, to care.
come here darling,
I swear I will not bite,
come here please,
smooth away the cracks in my skin,
piece me back together with the gold of your love,
like the japanese would repair their pottery.
there is something so vulnerable about wanting to be touched,
undoing me with a mere brush of the fingers,
peeling back my layers like the skin of an orange,
and each golden segment of my soul,
is an offering (i love you).
oh, do you think you could hold me?
just this once?
kiss the backs of my knees when they ache?
trace the divots of my spine like exploring a foreign land?
memorize the shape of my nose, my jaw, my eyes,
turning the terrain of my body into something familiar.
Perhaps it is selfish of me to ask for such a thing,
I have always been a rather demanding creature,
a dog,
scratching at the door,
begging to be let in.
I will be gentle I swear,
curl up in your chest,
your ribcage can be a temple,
your heart the god I bow before,
praying you might hold me,
if only for a little while.
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I am sick to bastard death of that two headed calf poem at this point I can't take it anymore
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I have a lot of fondness for clunky Hallmark Christmas romance movies with rock bottom production values, vaguely established and extremely contrived plots, dodgy dialgoue, often questionable line readings, and child actors playing a kid who seems either three years younger or older than themselves. Hallmark have not undermined themselves with glib, self aware irony or attempted to "elevate" the delightful low artform that they excel in. Refreshing, honestly.
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The Star Market
Marie Howe
The people Jesus loved were shopping at the Star Market yesterday.
An old lead-colored man standing next to me at the checkout
breathed so heavily I had to step back a few steps.
Even after his bags were packed he still stood, breathing hard and
hawking into his hand. The feeble, the lame, I could hardly look at them:
shuffling through the aisles, they smelled of decay, as if the Star Market
had declared a day off for the able-bodied, and I had wandered in
with the rest of them—sour milk, bad meat—
looking for cereal and spring water.
Jesus must have been a saint, I said to myself, looking for my lost car
in the parking lot later, stumbling among the people who would have
been lowered into rooms by ropes, who would have crept
out of caves or crawled from the corners of public baths on their hands
and knees begging for mercy.
If I touch only the hem of his garment, one woman thought,
could I bear the look on his face when he wheels around?
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So now that I've figured out why Hira might go for Astarion ... I am now struggling to figure out why Astarion would go for them in the long run. Like, because he's barely his own person at this point, what are his preferences? Ya know? Beyond how they treat him, beyond the obvious, what about them is it that he likes? Ya know? "You were kind and patient and trusted me" is all well and good but that's still 1) related to him and 2) doesn't quite tap into the sense that he also wants them for himself for other reasons aside from wanting more of what they're doing for him. Ya know? Ya fucking know?
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that last flower poem moved me to tears. wow. WOW.
that entire poem makes me feel so !!!!!!!
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conversations with a young girl
what is it like to rot? she asks me
i do not know what it is like to rot
this is because all i know is the rot
i cannot remember a time before
the decay that never gets worse
rotting is not an action i tell her
the corruption of my being is not an activity i partake in
it is something i am
there is no separation between myself
and the unceasing decay
rotting is not gradual i tell her
the rot does not slowly take over
one day you are fine and the next you are fungal
i think
it hurts to remember
i don’t think i get it she tells me
i think that is a good thing
the decay is horrific and unknowable
how do you even describe being the unwilling spectator
of your self-inflicted destruction
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Working on an emotional comic but the art is so bleh.. I think I'll have to rework the visual for sure, especially the colors, but I'm still glad I'm drawing something and putting thoughts into words
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Much Ado About Nothing, II.i
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I really don't like this writing class I'm taking
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Hello, im wehaveagathering from my main blog, im kind of obsessed with your hockey poetry edits and I think your blog is great! I guess I kind of have a dumb question, where do you find the images you use for your edits? Did you say Getty in your tags?? I’ve gotten into making icons recently (and i have ideas for poetry edits hrrrghhh) but it’s hard to find high res images. Thanks for your time and I hope you have a nice day :)
first of all thank you so much 🥹 and second that’s absolutely not a dumb question!! i do pull a lot of images from getty and i’ll also download pictures from sports articles (i got a lot of the hugheses pictures from online access articles, for example), or sometimes from instagram/facebook/twitter if an account is public. freely admitting that i am not technologically advanced? inclined? in the slightest here, but the image editing software that you use and how you import/export photos with it makes a difference in the quality of them as well!
if you haven’t seen them yet, i would also recommend checking out @simmyfrobby @national-hockey-lesbian @hauntedppgpaints @tapedsleeves @starscelly and @captainbradmarchand’s blogs just off the top of my head!!! they might know more places to get high res images and also i love their work 💕🫶
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sometimes.
most of the time i’m okay when i’m around you.
most of the time i’m me and i’m myself.
most of the time we are just two friends laughing together.
but there are sometimes.
sometimes my dysphoria takes over.
and i become a different person.
and it makes me hate you.
it makes me hate your voice and your muscles and your jokes and your laugh and everything else in between.
it makes me angry.
it makes me feel robbed.
because that should be me.
that should be me.
i should have the flat chest and the deep voice and the boyish charm and the strong muscles.
i should be roughhousing with our other roommates.
i should be making sex jokes at you all too.
but instead it isn’t.
and instead i’m me.
sometimes i get enraged.
and i want to scream and cry.
i want to throw myself at the cold hard ground until i look bloodied and beat up and you can’t tell if it’s a boy or a girl you’re looking at.
i want to rip the guitar out of your hands and smash it over your head.
i want to punch you and scream and yell because you have everything i want.
and it isn’t fair.
and when these sometimes happen, i feel so guilty afterwards that i can barely look you in the eye.
it isn’t your fault.
it’s not your fault i was born wrong.
but during these sometimes it sure does feel like it.
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Maybe one day far in the future
Archeologists will dig our graves
They will find our bones so intertwined
That none can tell us apart
They will reconstruct us as one bizarre thing
And say;
“Look what we found
Isn’t it magnificent?”
And they will smile with pride.
It will be decades before they realize
That we were ever separate
But how beautiful will it be
To be displayed in awe
As one wonderful creature
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