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#poetrty
pure-simulacrum · 8 months
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I LOVE TO LOVE. I LOVE TO FIND LOVE IN EVERY SINGLE MOMENT. I LOVE TO FIND LOVE IN EVERY RAY OF SUNSHINE AND EVERY DROPLET OF RAIN. I LOVE TO HEAR MYSELF LAUGH AND I LOVE TO TASTE THE SALT IN MY TEARS. I LOVE TO LOOK UP AT THE STARS AND I LOVE TO FEEL THE WET GRASS UNDERNEATH MY FEET. I LOVE TO HUG MY MOM. I LOVE TO MAKE MY FRIENDS LAUGH. I LOVE TO BE SORRY AND TO BE ASHAMED. I LOVE TO BE SO HAPPY I MIGHT CRY. I LOVE TO SCREAM UNTIL MY THROAT ACHES AND I LOVE TO LISTEN TO THE SILENCE AFTER. I LOVE TO BE IGNORANT TO WHAT COMES NEXT. I LOVE THAT ME AND THAT DOG CHASING ITS TAIL ARE ONE IN THE SAME. I LOVE THAT I AM A HUMAN AND THAT I AM LIVING ON AN EARTH FILLED WITH BEAUTY BEYOND MEASURE. I LOVE TO LIVE AND I LOVE YOU.
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technicoloryuri · 3 months
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Absence makes the heart grow fonder
You go to bed, she'll be up tonight she says
You plan to sleep through the night
Absence makes the heart grow fonder
It's hard to ignore, your body knowing the signs
You wake up in the night, the space she occupies still empty
Absence makes the nights much longer
It's 3am and her warmth still eludes
She's asleep somewhere else by now, her grasp not around you
Absence makes the nights much longer
It's becoming a pattern now, you've tried to prepare yourself
"I'll be up soon" means "not tonight"
Absence makes the loneliness stronger
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Your existence my dear, O love my dear, Has been sealed and marked
"Too sacred," "too sacred," by the Beloved—
To ever end!
Indeed God / Has written a thousand promises
All over your heart / That say, Life, life, life,
Is far too sacred to
Ever end.
—Hafiz, “God’s Bucket”
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icarrythequotes · 2 months
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“How you love yourself is how you teach others to love you.”
— Rupi Kaur // milk and honey
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Me trataste como la villana, y yo solo me trague mis lágrimas, cuando me dañaste con tus palabras.
Moon dark
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flimythings · 3 months
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Writers--- they who carry the weight of the lost souls of those who never got to live.
—unknown
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waqtkibaatein · 1 month
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nerdreader · 3 months
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love
Whenever I cry at the absence of love. I go to my backyard and sit on the swing. The same swing that my father loves. I look around and see tall trees, All stand tall as the evidence that there was love and care and nourishment. I see my neighborhood couple sitting on the bench, Her head resting on his shoulder as they talk about their days. I see clothes hanging, Woven with threads of love. I sit there with full belly because my mother cooked with so much. I am full because she made sure I ate enough of my favorite food. I wear my mother's ring and my father's t-shirt and my brother's bracelet. Everything reminds me of love. I am here because my ancestors loved and protected. I was born because of love. I was born to love. I was born to be loved. There was love before me. There will be love after me. There is love everywhere. River flows, birds chirp, Morning comes, people work, in the evening Sky is painted with pastels, Birds return to their nests. At nightfall there are streetlights, There is science because of love. People create for love; People create for the people they love. There is something like soulmates because there is love. There are best friends to love. People grow forests, walk across countries, find cures, cook, sing, dance, die, birth, weave, grow, heal, break All because of love. All for love. If only I were great enough to write a poetry on love, But love is poetry in its very existence.
" HERE"
I feel defeated and tired as I sit on the swing in my backyard in the dark.
Around me, are these tall trees and small plants,Very little stars in the sky,No moon in my sight.As if everything has an agreement of fatigue
.Flute playing from my phone makes me smile a little,Thinking that someone dedicated so much of their time and effort and love into this artwork.How they poured their heart and soul is just evident.
Chirping of cricket confronts me calmly,As if asking my well being.
Wind bustling through leaves,Flowing through my hair;Like a hand of assurance on my shoulder
.Squeaking of insects and croaking of birds tell me everything is going to be okay.
I will be okay, maybe not now, maybe tomorrow.I knew I was going to be okay.Everybody agreed.
Even regulus in the sky.Even though it seems lonely and soft.
But I am here.
Christmas surprise for @bandarrrrr
Hope you like these poems....
@desiblr-secret-santa-exchange
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oresteias-heart · 4 months
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Conversations with the moon, wishing it was you.
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Sometimes I drag out my conversations with the moon and I pretend I am talking to you,
Luminescence shining on my heart, there is nothing left of you I could love anew? You have stolen my words, my truth, and my fate.
I wish we could talk and talk the night away, my love. Why must life be so cruel? You have turned into the moon, and now my conversations never consist of you.
—Oresteia…♡
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professionalintrovert · 2 months
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Writing is the closest thing we have to real magic. Writing is creating something out of nothing, is opening doors to other lands. Writing gives you power to shape your own world when the real one hurts too much. To stop writing would kill me.
R.F. Kuang, Yellowface ❄️📚
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soulinkpoetry · 4 months
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When something feels good you don’t walk away from it. It’s only when it starts to hurt.
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theshatterednotes · 3 months
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Edna St. Vincent Millay
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fawns-antlers · 9 months
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i will be vulnerable for you
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hermitletters · 1 year
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I am too afraid of the sun
for
I always was the daughter of the moon
-sea
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idk-anything-tbh · 3 months
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रात इतनी तन्हा क्यू होती है
किस्मत से अपनी सबको शिकायत क्यों होती है
अजीब खेल खेलती है किस्मत
जिसे हम पा नहीं सकते
उसी से मोहब्बत क्यू होती है
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a poem about all forms of art and all you people who create it 💗
carefully crafted by those hands every moment spent with care the fragility and delicacy well captured passionately created with no detail spared ; infused in the mundanity of the world by an angelic glorious flare.
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