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milabooka · 52 minutes ago
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Oświadczyny
nieprzerwane melodie,
nieodsłonięte żaluzje
schodzę na dół, liczę stopnie
ty w afekcie miażdżysz kuchnie
co się stało? jak się czujesz?
ja bez Ciebie nic nie czuję
szepcze cicho, spina ciało
moje przyjście nic nie dało
już jest dobrze, koisz nerwy
to jak kubek ciepłej mięty
chwyta dłoń, dotyk skronią
czy zostaniesz moją żoną?
Kamila M.B.
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magicinmoxie · an hour ago
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Just once.
Just once the boy wants to dip
A finger in butter and sugar,
To lick peanut butter from a knife
And-
No.
He can't.
He won't.
Because it wouldn't be just once.
He will slice his apple into two,
Four
Eight
Sixteen.
Because "just once"
Would be his forever.
If he let it.
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phinexa-rose · 2 hours ago
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Levanter
Doubt, an inevitability, a by product and a tool. Whether it comes from me or whether it someone puts it there when I accomplish my goal it leaves the doubters a fool.
There’s only road to success,  only one, correct path to follow. I respectfully disagree but I understand it might be a hard pill for you to swallow. 
It may feel better to hope for me to fail,  doing the same things you did. But I have no interest in being same, I’ve had the same dream since I was a kid. 
I dream of my life being mine,  and my notebooks of promises are a reminder. To never let anyone or anything hold me back,  to weather through the tough levanter.
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lesbianologist · 8 hours ago
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titled: ink (x) A/N: i was going through my scrambled writing that people have encouraged me to publish for what feels like ages and figured i'd want to get people's thoughts on bits and bobs of it while listening to "maybe we could have loved" by charli adams and it got me in my feels. figured i'd publish this. idk. please tell me what you think, though. posted on AO3 (link at top) and figured i'd post here, too.
i like to think that love is an acquired taste. the cost of it for the sake of it. someone who shares my penchant for whiskey sours, melancholic foreign films, stacks of books, sleeping in on the weekends. perhaps someone starkly different in comparison. the thought is unravelling in me in my evenings, sipping on bittersweet effulgent memories; late dusk in july. maybe it's just the ache emanating from my bones, but it pains me that the last shared memory i have of her and i is an entire day just stretched out, long and sweet. hopeful. bright. on her back porch on the steps, she told me i really did embody sunlight as i basked in the sun, and she worried i would get sunburnt. deep in the heat of late summer, stretched out on her neighbour’s porch, basking in the sun like two happy cats. me, smiling at her, and her smiling at me. laughing at the bees. closing my eyes, and hers, too. soaking in the warm glow of the gradually setting sun. the memory aches like that bottle of wine we never got to share together. tender, bruising beneath my skin. it leaves a sour taste in my mouth, just like the aftertaste of that long second evening we spent together when she applied her lipstick on my lips, complimenting me on how the colour flushed with my cheeks, how brilliant my rust scarf appeared in the glow of dusk. if i had known how she would have trailed me along for the months following that night, and how abruptly it ended, i wonder sometimes if i would have ended it that night. i know i wouldn’t, though. the cost of loving and losing and something about blossoming into myself has brought a series of revelations. loss is an ever lingering whisper, whether that be of love, friendship, or family. that’s the paradigm and simultaneous paradox of pain, isn’t it? that’s the unfortunate blistering reality of loss, but i would risk it all for that poignant sensation i've felt only a handful of times. the absurdity is that i don't believe in friends to lovers; i can't rationalize settling for less. i yearn for emotions being sifted from the mud by tender fingers. a constellation of dazzling epiphanies erupting inside of my chest, the edges of fireworks electrifying my veins, the tendrils curling through me. a flower blossoming in the dead of winter. it's a gentle light in the dark, a beacon. maybe it's just the way the whiskey filled me that night, pouring into the chasm inside of me, but it was there. a gentle flickering of a flame. recognition in a stranger. maybe i just believe in past lives, and i'm wondering where my twin flame is.
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bristokeswrites · 9 hours ago
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Thank-You!!!
Ahhh! I’ve reached 70 followers! And I started this blog a little under 10 days ago! Thank you so much for all of the kind words and support you’ve sent my way since I joined this lovely little community of readers and writers. Everyone here is truly so sweet, warm, welcoming, and talented. I love reading your stuff, I love getting your messages and notifications, and I love seeing the way everyone on this corner of the Internet collectively supports their fellow creatives. That is a RARITY to find online these days. Tumblr is awesome.
I truly couldn’t be more grateful for each and every one of you! <3
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env0writes · 9 hours ago
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NaPoWriMo 16. Suburbanoia
Kids laugh and pass me by Rollerskates and boards with plates Broken sidewalk squares let these skaters fly Dandelion cracks formed from earthquakes
Suburban setting suns hang to light the streetlights Stretch the day over cherry roses Passerby cars, my shooting star wishes aren’t quite, The crescent moons neighbors I know is
Concrete blocks and squares underfoot Hounded by crows at each blot of blue Why can’t I cross train tracks the city has put, Where the pathways lead me to
I’m scared they’ll sweep me far away Townhome rows and winding roads To gridiron bumpers and scraping towers pay Scraping by until society corrodes
Where kids won’t laugh and pass me by On struggling skates that screech too late The path may be broken, now we reach the sky Dandelion blows will carry my shooting star wishes far from this state
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mycollectioncloud · 13 hours ago
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106.
Stuck in a crossroads Between a clean uncluttered physical space And using cleaning as an excuse to procrastinate
Beautiful and loved clothes/items Usually do use/wear most of them In between upgrades at the moment
The what was And what is Bumping elbows as they pass each other by
So much old energy cleansed and released Yet seemingly still so much to let go Does this ever end?
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artecore · 14 hours ago
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Acceptance
Blinding lights of the night seen from an open window;
A dark blurry sky floats above them, moonless,
And in the room
A football game is being broadcasted into my computer screen
While an empty grindr stands still by my side.
 Laura Palmer’s theme plays in the background…
Pink trees shake smoothly, teased by a soft cry of the wind…
 Old pictures are creeping into my mind –
It’s not that I was stupid or blind,
I just needed to grow a little bit more
Before going through the so desired door.
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irfanullashariff · 14 hours ago
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Change your inner thoughts to the higher frequencies of love, harmony, kindness, peace, and joy, and you'll attract more of the same.
Wayne Dyer
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esstrauss · 15 hours ago
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“Not Yet…”
A the sunset slowly sets on this week of oddness
My energy quickly sets into the waters
My sun sign always retreating back to its natural habitat
Finally submerged underneath my favorite blue blanket
The other creatures beneath attempting to find out what has been bothering me under my hard shell exterior
Though this crab may be vocal and unafraid, that does not mean she must reveal every little thing
Even the sun above cannot get this out of me
Though the Capricorn beside me is getting on my last nerve
Opposites do that
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agnosthesias · 16 hours ago
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SWEETENED.
—has salt ever tasted so much like a fire waiting to be ignited?
TAGLIST.
@aeternve @arkicts @cabuyas @empurious @gnymedes @godessofchastity @kaneselwyns @hennawar @ishqi @kalliopeian @jepser @ortolon @phaesphoros @sukoonat @vaelinor @xiyais @yaqarah
ask to be added or removed!
TRANSCRIPT.
under the cut.
my legs, emblazoned with shards of wet grass each time i hit the ground running.
you sing under the sun- broken sky that rains down until we shiver with delight.
has salt ever tasted so much like a fire waiting to be ignited?
drips of icy red — sticky- sweet, sticky in the spaces between my fingers — a reminder of the time that i am leaving but i cannot quite leave behind yet.
(green, your hand whispers to mine, lime green grabbing my crimson scarlet.)
the whole world lies just beyond the edge of this breath. we jump.
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worksofnereum · 16 hours ago
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five years have
passed since you
chased me and
who would have
thought you woulda
cheated on me
-nereum // apr.16.21
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