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#rant poem
soundbluster · 8 months
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Eww... I got the dreaded Tumblr live update.
Get that cr*p off my dashboard!
...
(I Guess they've rolled it out outside of the US now, as I'm in the UK and I haven't seen it before.)
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felidaemelody · 5 months
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The Burden of Proof
(A somewhat improved version of a somewhat outdated poem from before I accepted this human body and life)
You see my subjective experiences as a set of beliefs; a cloak that covers the root cause of my actions and emotions. To you, they are falsehoods held tightly against my human heart. I see reality, my reality at least, differently. These stories I tell about myself were not born of daydreams nor escapism nor mental illness nor neurodiversity. They festered underneath the muscles of my heart, beating and tearing louder at the most confounding of times that wouldn't have relevance to my human life. These feelings so intense that they are impossible to ignore, near impossible to deny, crawled out of the values; traveled to every vein in this vessel; and reached my brain and eyes, ripping off the foggy veil of my existence that I couldn't tell apart from ordinary human experience until that fundamental truth washed away the arrogant and ignorant assumptions force fed to me throughout my problematic upbringing to reveal my connection to my reflection has always been one of disconnection. The true escapism was my half-hearted yet stubborn attempt to free myself from the pain of this embedded cage of a body by desperately against common sense trying to persuade myself into believing I was human until I was so. Months of bashing my heart with a rusty hammer smelted from baseless assumptions about how healthy and sane people are, what they allegedly believe, only further pumped the innate feelings around my nervous system while damaging an important part of myself. These feelings are not only real, not only sane, not only important - to amputate this core part of my soul would be to destroy me and leave behind a husk; a mere imitation of my true self collapsed on the floor. Can you see now how your casual remarks, so seemingly innocuous from your human-centric perspective, were a volley of wrecking-balls launched at me from within the walls of what I thought was my sanctuary, surrounded by those, yourself included, that I consider family? I know nothing from my recounts can account for the need for solid evidence; there's a tragic reason why I "joke" about being insane. I guess I shouldn't have let my guard down. The oasis of acceptance was a mirage. My companions on the edge of the Earth's collapse can't, won't, see me for who I really am. In my place, their rationalization of me in the form of an insane furry. The crawling under my skin is still here; and it will never go away until either this vessel or I break. I hold desperately onto hope for a third option, of physical liberation and expression through the authentic resculpting of the flesh-costume. Until then... my curiosity drags my lethargic prison towards tomorrow.
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sunfl0wersapphic · 7 months
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I’ve never felt so conflicted. Mentally I’ve drifted.
I’m stuck looking around at all the shit I’ve thrifted,
And by thrifted I mean not the apparel or the decor I often buy or bought.
I mean it by the feelings I get for cheap and that make my own feelings rot.
I open my mouth only to have it slammed shut by a wave.
A wave of emotions that someone unknowingly gave.
To me.
Their emotions shoot fast and hit me like a dart.
No matter the armor I wear it always gets through to my heart.
And in my heart it will stay until it’s the end of the day where I’ll stay up restless in bed with others’ emotions and stories fill up my head making my own feelings muted and dead making me wish there was a heart and emotion quieting med.
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mindrottinglystupid · 24 hours
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No One
No one 
Tells someone
To simply be quite
They say ‘never be stubborn, never be whole, 
Never be talking, never be laughing’
It’s all in the pauses, in the quite few seconds
The side ways few glances, with hateful brown eyes 
‘Have no more friends, but don’t talk to me
Say exactly what I’m thinking, or don’t talk at all
Walk behind me, not beside me 
And don’t look my way
Don’t talk to them, they’ll only laugh
I mean look at you, your helpless 
Completely incompetent 
I’m your only hope, the only one who understands
I can be human and I can be weird
But you must be perfect 
Not a human but my servant 
Only do as I say
No defenses 
No reasons 
No feelings
No friends
Only me
Only me 
Only me'
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averywritespoetry · 9 months
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You promised me in the color of devotion that you would mend the burns you scorched onto my skin, so why is it I’m still melting, porcelain, dripping onto your skin, wax covering that hardens when I reach out for you again.
-a.b.
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taotaoirl · 10 months
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ashes
ashes were once flames - how i miss dancing in the blaze.
standing in the pile of ash, the warm sand during those hot summer days.
you told me i was different, but do all differences get replaced?  
perhaps all i wanted was your praise but you just wanted me for the chase.
you played me like a game but i chose to come back anyways.
but now why do i mourn in pain?  
the fire has been put out - and all that’s left is but your pitiful gaze. 
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agirlsnotesapp · 9 months
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As the eldest daughter, I let the anger against my mother go.
She had my sisters and I young, I feel I can only forgive her for not knowing the exact steps motherhood takes. My dad cheated on my mom early on in their marriage, and still she never talked ill of him throughout our childhood, the feelings she buried, I can forgive her for. I used to be so upset at her when she would want to go out with friends and I'd be in charge, I was 9,10,11, and counting. She had a life too, I can forgive her for that. She was the stereotypical single mom, worked hard for her kids, struggled, dated men she felt worthy of her children, remarried, the typical life you see these days.
Now everyone is grown, knowledgeable on what the past holds and no idea what the future will bring.
However, my mom is still stuck in time. All of those feelings she buried for decades, she's now encapsulated herself with those waves of emotion. I feel sad most days, struggling to get up as a regular early twenties woman. She however, struggles every moment. My mom, whose the most beautiful woman I've ever known, has started a new journey on antidepressants. A part of me screamed while the rest of me cried when she told me. I know I'm not to blame, but the immense guilt I felt is surreal. It surrounds me, and I feel like the enemy ever having resentment towards her. She's only ever tried her best and now she's at the point of her life where she needs pills to be the best once more.
So,
I let the anger against my mother go, and redirected it to myself instead.
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jmsapphire · 2 years
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Kissing you is both need and want
Need because I feel as if I'm drinking water
when we do it, sometimes involuntary
I don't think about it, I just know I need it
And you give it -
Kissing you is want because I see you
And I want to just connect, lips, red
Until they're somewhat pinker than red
If that ever makes sense,
Because I may have need of it
But I also want it all the time
And never get tired of it -
It is like water, like breathing, like food
I need it for me to know I exist
And I want it, want you, because you exist.
You never think of water when you
take it in every day, necessity then
But the times you look for it
When even soda or juice or pop are
more readily available, you look for it.
I like kissing you, love it even
Because I know I need it, but I also want it
So desperately much just because it is you
- like all else , why
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dragonfish816 · 7 months
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i hate the comedown and hate defeat.
i hate the way even my words retreat.
i hate the knowing and hate the waiting.
i hate the anxious way they’re saying,
“oh i’m sorry that you lost”
and “hey i’m sorry your name was tossed”.
but even more i hate the way i’m
still hung over something so benign—
it was only a board election
for a club i never wanted in on…
yet here i am wishing the numbers were wrong…
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moonbean23 · 1 year
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"Cold waves roll over my feet,
As they sink deeper into the soft sand.
Watchful eyes gaze over the dark water,
As my mind buzzes with thoughts.
Suddenly, I'm surrounded by it.
The cold covers every inch of my skin. My world becomes quiet and dark.
I almost prefer it over the chaos.
My heart begins to slow,
And my breathing stops.
I think I might just stay here awhile."
-Moon <33
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atlasscrumpit · 2 years
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Molly's Garden
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Trigger warning - trauma
The garden was something of beauty, the virbarant flowers and the large trees casting a protective aura around the garden.
In the centre was a white stone fountain, it was simple but beautiful.
It's her place, her small piece of paradise.
She used to go here to escape, she learnt how to go here without hearing or feeling anything in the outside world.
I suppose that was all she had before we all came along.
Before we could protect her, the garden was the only place she could feel safe.
When she was there she couldn't hear his voice, couldn't feel his touches or feel anything.
She would just sit in the garden, silent and still.
Waiting for it to be over.
Her garden was all she had.
All she knew.
The only thing that would keep her safe.
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love songs
every love song was about you, once.
now i drive too fast down windy roads,
and turn the music up too loud
as if it will bring that feeling back.
i search the lyrics, begging to understand
why i loved you
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poppiesandpromises · 2 years
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Any time I see some headline
About the Supreme Court I
Wince and wonder what
New terror they have wrought
The scales of justice no longer
A benchmark of fairness
These dice are loaded
The roulette wheel stuck
We all scramble like
The rats of the titanic
Those doors are locked
We can but drown
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Rant-esque Poem ahead!
I’m sorry I can’t be perfect for you
That I am made of mistakes
That I walk too straight
Or that I don’t walk straight enough
I’m sorry that I talk weird
That I use big words
That I sometimes skip over proper grammar to get my point
Or that sometimes I don’t want to talk at all
I’m sorry that I don’t like how you treat me
It’s not your fault, really
I want to make it your fault
It’s not like there’s proof or anything
I’m sorry that I have too much personality for you
That I’m too loud
Or that I’m too quiet
Maybe it’s that I talk with my hands too much
Or that I don’t know how to express my feelings
But you don’t either
I’m sorry there’s nothing left for you in this world
But that’s not my problem
So please don’t try to make it mine
I’m sorry you don’t know what’s good for you
I know what’s good for me
And you’re not it
So please don’t try to drag me down with you
I’m sorry you don’t understand what sorry means
You have a lot of apologies to give
And I’m not sure if you know what that means either
I’m sorry to the people that you have hurt
I’m sorry that you were hurt
But not really
At first, I was 
But then
You hurt me, too
And I saw how cruel you could be
So I’m not sorry 
For anything
Because you are the one who should be apologizing
Not me
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averywritespoetry · 9 months
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Oh how I would willingly become a martyr desperate to show how badly the sonnets of my youth still live inside me, the numbing hot sting of battle wound cuts - blood spreading onto the field grass while the dandelion seeds turn a murky red.
Crawl out of my body, crack my ribs, hold my face and replace my eyes with yours. Or hold and wash the burning irritation of year long cries out of them. Cradle me in your arms and please hold me tightly. Tell me that you'll always be a part of me- that you won't leave me.
Tell me that there's room for you here in my body. Make it not so heavy. Just so I can breathe again. Is that too much to ask? I'm sorry I just wish id known how hard living can be when the essence of you was ripped out of me. stolen.
-a.b.
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nightraiderwrites · 1 year
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I fought with my Dad the other day
I fought with my Dad the other day.
He told me every word I say to him is angry, and I should fix it
Like anger is a flaw that should be fixed
But it shouldn't because I am allowed to feel
The silent question stretches between the five meters that seperate us
Are you angry? You shouldn't be.
Well, maybe I am angry, Dad
Maybe I'm scared because it seems every sentence you say to my sister
Is some sort of insult or backhanded compliment
So she'll grow up with bad memories of you and
Hopeless esteem issues and trouble trusting what people say
Because all you seem to say to her is teasing and taunting
I don't want her to grow up afraid to talk to you
Because you find a way to make her feel bad everytime your attention is on her
I am terrified I am going to fail, Dad
Fail as a person, fail as a sister, fail as a guardian
Because I can't seem to protect her from your words
That so clearly upset her
It's like you're throwing a snowball that you've hidden glass inside
And she's bleeding from the cuts on her face
Tears and screaming and emotion she cannot hold in
Because she is so young and I am angry
That you treat her the way you would treat someone below you
Our youth is not something that makes us lesser
It is not something that means we don't know about the world and it's ways
We know! We can hear you muttering under your breath
Small comments you don't think will impact us
But it does! We hear you and it makes us feel
And I am afraid, Dad, to feel around you
Because you say it doesn't matter. Because you get mad.
I am angry that my youth is being spent
Worrying about what you say when I'm not around
Dad, I am fifteen!
I should not have to worry about anything that comes out of your forty-nine year old mouth
I should not have to worry what's going to happen
When I leave the house to pursue a career on something I love
Something you make me ashamed to love
Because you told me the path was hard and I should take the easy way out
But, Dad, this isn't about whether it's easy or not!
This about living! This is about my life and my choices
You say it's hard like you think I can't do it if it's hard
You say it's hard like you think it's a bad thing
Dad, that doesn't matter! This is what I want.
I will not come crying to you if it all crashes and burns
Like the ashes of a plane
Because it will be my choice.
I fought with my Dad the other day
Now he doesn't say a word to either of us
He just sits and exists
Too bad I am not disturbed by our argument
And there are a million things I want to scream at him
Let a torrent of words spill from my mouth
But I swallow them instead.
I can't dignify his silence with words
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