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thehoax · 16 hours
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a poem inspired by the tracklist of the tortured poets department (2024) by taylor swift
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sfsolstice · 3 days
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S. F. Solstice, "A Piece of You"
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poetici · 3 days
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All it takes is one glance from you to start a chain reaction in my head.
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bravecatfish · 2 days
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By B.Z @bravecatfish
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scriptgoyal · 2 days
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What's about this tiredness I feel every time? Like, even if I get something for which I am making a consistent effort, then what happens after that? I will still be tired.
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camillamaecaulay · 1 year
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graves grow no green that you can use.
gwendolyn brooks
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anouchan-jpg · 7 months
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dariann-garcia · 4 months
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Una vez más, me encontraba al fondo de una copa, buscando en su reflejo la razón de por qué, esta vez, no fui suficiente.
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agelesslibrary · 1 year
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Poets are the painters of human experience, capturing the colors of their heart in verse.
— agelesslibrary
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mkwrites · 6 months
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I can’t let him read my poetry because how could I go back to being strangers with someone who has seen my soul?
-m.k. // words are windows to the soul
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europasage · 19 days
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on being alive.
@delepiphany on pinterest // lucy dacus, please stay // @arthoesunshine // @leaf.guy_ on tiktok // phoebe bridgers, that funny feeling // @peepuddle
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27paperlilies · 8 months
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Dear September,
I hope you will be kind, would you please leave the bad behind. Each month I ask the same, to others of a different name. But I have a feeling that you, september, will grant my request, just let this month be one of peace, one of the best, I'll figure out the rest.
Kind Regards, someone living life with hope and a tired heart.
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sfsolstice · 2 days
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always, the end of march still feels like winter, but april... when april calls on the blooming rose, always, she ushers in spring's new beginnings,
and this year, she gave me you, a vernal sun behind clouds, but still so brightly shining,
melting the last of the bitter winter hour, a biting frost fallen in the cold walls of this heart, and illuminating the things thought to be lost,
word by word, piece by piece, the forgotten poet in me— you shone brilliantly,
like a clear star dotted in the night sky, an astral anchor for this lost, hopeless sailor, once at the whim of nothing but tumultuous sea,
trapped in watery forces... it was you who dared to shine like an outstretched hand,
firmly taking in mine, to pull from the depths a new me, that holds more love for the warmth of palms as tender as the ones you've shown me;
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seraphinesaintclair · 1 month
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“Death’s Fingers” by Seraphine Saintclair
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sweatermuppet · 2 years
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what i got by silas denver melvin (written at the unrelatable writing retreat, sep 17 2022)
[Text ID: got bad. got worse. got suspended for blessing the face of a transphobe with the open palmed reckoning of my small hands. got praised. got punished. got home & ma, her crown bowed to the steering wheel, her tired, dish-water knuckles smoothing imagined creases from her Stevie Nicks skirt, told me she understood, but couldn't condone. got taken out of class. got put in therapy. got threatened, thanked, spit at, spit on. got everything but even. got medicated. got put in a small room with a suit-pressed man & a single particle wood table. got asked if i thought id ever see heaven. got a good look & measured my answer. got considered like livestock. got 5 days out of school like isolation was a fever-trick to sweat out the sick they assigned to my blood. got up on the last day, before the yolk-heavy sun even broke the fragile line of the horizon, before the cat birds could perch on the white birch branches & begin their endless crying, & thought to myself let heaven start where my boots are laced & allow no merciless crowd decide me otherwise, which is to say… i got out & from there, i have yet to stop. /End ID]
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marimeiastories · 5 months
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I don't want to be in love with someone
I want to be in love with life
so fiercely
that I forget all the pain
and all the days in which I thought
I couldn't do it anymore
- marimeiastories
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