#writing my feelings

[propheciesanddreams]

a little writing for you

They never tell you how unsettling it is to be a stranger to your own brother. Here’s someone you feel that you’re supposed to have some connection with. You remember them, with baby fat still clinging to their cheeks, and you remember their favourite toys, and the song that made them smile every time they heard it. Then you look at them as an adult and you know nothing about them. What’s their favourite colour? What type of music do they listen to? Do they hate me? 

That last question, that's the one that haunts Sirius the most. Glancing back up at the stranger in front of him, he swallows down his fear and tries not to see his mother in his brother's eyes and in his cheekbones and most of all in his frown. The one that is full of resentment and judgement, and he tries with all his might not to fall back into that space. Sirius tries not to feel five again, or ten, or twelve, or worst of all, sixteen. He tries not to remember when Regulus' sweet chubby-cheeked smile became the grimace they only associated with Maman. 

"Hello, Sirius." Regulus speaks first, curt but respectable all the same. 

"Hey." Sirius responds, his voice a bit unsure and then, "it's been a long time." What a foolish thing to say. 

"Ten years." Regulus says it as though he still remembers that day, an odd thing that. 

They stand in silence for only a moment before the toddler at Sirius' feet grows impatient and whines. 

Regulus doesn't ask, no, he's been taught to be polite and to be polite you don't bring up uncomfortable topics such as this. Sirius was once taught that, he's long since forgotten. 

"Teddy." He gestures to the toddler now pulling at his arm and muttering something about getting ice cream which Sirius swears was never brought up but knows instantly he will be talked into. 

"He's…" Sirius pauses on how to explain best who Teddy is to him, "my stepson I suppose you could say." 

Confusion crosses Regulus' brow but again he does not ask out of politeness. Sirius doesn't get a chance to explain because at that moment they're reunited with Teddy's dad, who comes up besides Sirius, throwing an arm around his waist and prattling on before he registers the stranger… the family… the person before them. The weight and warmth of his side is welcome against Sirius, dulling the shock, as Remus leans on him. He didn't bring his walking stick and now he's feeling weak. Were Sirius in a better mood, he'd chastise him for it. 

"They didn't have it, but the owner was so kind he said they'd order it for me by Wednesday and then gave me some recommendations for a few other books I might enjoy and– oh. Hi." 

"Hello, Lupin." Regulus replies, again he's terse but not unkind. 

"Right, well, we had better be off. You know, little ones." Sirius gestures to Teddy now seconds away from a proper tantrum even though he knows full well that Regulus does not and would have no reason to know the nature of toddlers. 

"It was good to see you." Sirius adds, Remus nods his agreement to the statement. 

"And to see you." Regulus replies, politely. 

Sirius doesn't know why he does it. They've exchanged the proper pleasantries. They've said what was needed and expected of them. It has been ten long fucking years. A lot of time in therapy and far too many cigarettes smoked over the balcony after midnight. Too much has passed for him to look back. So he isn't sure what makes him turn around then but he does. 

"Come to dinner. We're having–well it's just a small thing but we're already expecting guests tonight and–it would be lovely to have you. To… catch up." It falls flat, they're both aware of it, the words hanging between them. Regulus will politely decline and that will be that. They won't see each other for another ten years and then they'll do the whole dance again. 

So the next words out of Regulus' mouth shock Sirius to his core. 

"I'd be happy to." 

#idk what this is #wolfstar #wolfstar with teddy #writing my feelings #had a tough therapy session this week #not even about my family at all but this decided it needed to pour out of me #i don't know if i'll write more #black brothers angst #rem is writing or something

[mirofmagma]

There is a weight on me, I think it's the same one my mother carries

She hates the way we live, a house that's always dirty and cluttered no matter how hard she tries.

She's tired every morning, sometimes she can't get up, and when she does she's only rewarded by our tired grumbles over oatmeal,

I understand

There is nothing heavier than the weight of what could be done, what life we could have lived

-if you could see yourself now how would you have felt? (Mirofmagma)

#poetry #original poem #poem #sad poem #monmy issues i guess #deppresion #spilled thoughts #writing my feelings

[panalien]

If Dazai and Chuuya had actually had a heart-to-heart

[not that they would because they're sarcastic, manipulative shits but I can dream] [this is my own little headcanon in which Chuuya and Dazai actually talk about Dazai leaving the PM and that Chuuya didn't follow.]

Cuuya: “We used to be so close, what could have possibly happened to you?”

Dazai: “What could have happened to me? What happened to you? You’re the one who stayed after everything they did.”

C: “I had no other option!”

D: “Of course you had an option! I did, I got out. You could have too.”

C: “No, I couldn’t. You had nothing to lose. I hav…”

D: “You’re wrong.”

C: “What do you mean I’m wrong?”

D: “I did lose, I lost you. Not that I wanted to or even thought I would. I thought you would come with me.”

C: “Come with you?” Shaking his head. “ You never said you wanted me to come with you.”

D: “I didn’t think I had to. You literally knew me better than anyone else, words didn’t seem necessary. But then you never came.”

C: “I hate that you threw away so many years because you thought I would just know. How stupid are you?”

D: “I know.”

They look at each other with so much caring and sadness, a drastic change from their previous expressions in the heat of their fight. Silence fell over them. Neither really knowing where to go from here until…

D: “So, would you have?”

C: “Would I have…? Come with you? I..” Sighing “That was four years ago, I don’t, I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

Looking away, he avoids eye contact with Dazai because he knows the truth and he knows Dazai does as well but neither can say it.

[this is my own little headcanon. ]

#chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #bsd #bsd headcanons #soukoku #writing my feelings #bungou stray dogs #fanfic #bsd fanfic #emotions are hard

[autumntay]

Sometimes I like to write my thoughts, I'm unsure if this counts as poetry though.

can you tell I like cannibalism as a metaphor for love

#words words words #idk how to tag this #cannibalism as a metaphor for love #cannibalism as a form of love #vent ig #writing #writing my thoughts #writing my feelings

[procrastiel]

The Want.

The desire is so strong, the want buried deep inside becomes alive from time to time, when you brush hands or stand too close, or when you find yourself staring again and Crowley’s not looking, or pretending not to notice. These are the little twigs that fall into the hot coals of your desire and the flames are lit again, the serpent stirs, sometimes fast and sometimes slow but always gripping you so tight, rising, swallowing your heart and then the panic and shame overwhelm you.

You blush. Cannot hide the want, not fully. How do you make it so no one can see the fireplace burning in your stomach? Do you dress it up, or drape two extra layers over it? How do you stand without the want dragging you down, without your spine buckling or snapping in half?

How do you look in his eyes when you’re trying to protect him from yourself?

Fleetingly. Do not prolong, it will hurt too much.

If you can’t fix it, Jack, you gotta stand it.

inspired by this beautiful art

#the last line is a quote from #brokeback mountain #in my headcanon they watched the movie and thought of themselves #desire #want #aziraphale x crowley #crowley #aziraphale #good omens #poetry #art #writing #writing my feelings #the want #crowzi #i have things to say #inspired by art

[runningminds]

Heavy

My mind feels so heavy. There's no more space inside for new thoughts to take shape, yet they keep forming at a rapid pace.

My eyes are heavy. If I could've measured my tears in the last three weeks, I bet I could save us from the drought forecasted. I have ball bags for eyes that keep filling up and watering at any given time, announcing unexpected rain.

Am I too heavy to be around? Do I take up so much room in rooms that people judge me and say "fuck that". Can they feel it? Is "not good enough" seeping out of my skin? Can they smell "crazy" on my clothes? Is "stupid" tattooed above my eyebrows? Can they taste "loneliness" on my tongue?

Healing isn't pretty, I can't say I enjoy it all the time. Tapping out what no longer serves me and tapping in all the good energy. I'm tapping so much I think I'm losing brain cells.

I'd love to meet "Inner Peace". So I can tell her to go fuck herself for making me climb mountains, run through rivers, endure chaotic storms and wildfires, just to finally sit down with her.

Then I'd hug her and kiss her and ask her to please never leave me.

Afterwards, I'd apologise for saying exactly what I wanted to say because guilt engulfs me. Then I'd become completely obsessed with her and question her every motive because I have attachment issues.

Healing is a bitch.

#sad thoughts #sadgirl #healing #writing my feelings #writing my thoughts #writing my heart out #what the fuck #send help #please #emotinal #emo girl #thought #healing through words #healing through writing #i want to cry #again

[somedarkhollow]

regional magic

I’m not sure what they put in the twilight movies and gilmore girls and certain corners of warm evenings on the east coast, but there’s something mystical there. I remember the feeling so distinctly because I spent most of my life living on the west coast. there is west coast magic, don’t get me wrong. the tears in my eyes as I drive down the pacific coast highway with my windows rolled all the way down listening to the indie alternative radio station or the coo of a morning dove in dry air or even most of Lana del Rey’s early music all contains the glittering magic of my former home region. but here I lay, belly down on my bed less than a hundred miles from where I lay the first time I felt the east coast magic. it was a warm, late summer night and the air was thick before it began to softly rain. I lay with my window pushed up ever so slightly to feel the warm air after sitting in air conditioning all day at work and lit a candle. it was earlier then, still light, I remember laying there looking up at the ceiling and not knowing how to think about the future at all, but I thought of the hustle on the freeway just a hop and a skip away from where I lay my head, I thought about new york and simon and garfunkel and falling in love. it seemed so nostalgic but somehow pulled me present. 

I’m wondering if moving to the south will reveal it’s own special kind of magic. when I lived in West Virginia I mostly felt specifically West Virginia magic. The kind that pours out of a bottle of moonshine and teaches you to be brave, almost a confrontation and private reckoning in the woods as you learn how people are just people and where the ridges connect and divide. 

Whatever the magic is in virginia, I hope I can keep the magic from the west, the east, and the hill country tucked into my jacket pocket or sewn into the hem of my skirt like little stars. I hope i can stop running and let what needs to be let go be gone. maybe the magic of virginia will be less like magic and more like a balm for the girl living out her days warped by a past she barely remembers, enchanted by magic she’ll never forget. 

#regional #magic #whimsy #whimsical #eastcoast #westcoast #westvirginia #virginia #gilmoregirls #twilight #memoir #personal essay #writing #writing my feelings #sad girl #prose poetry #poetry #poem #readmywork #read it and weep

[cloudzcapes]

What if there was a person named life, who in fact was the very same notion we all have. Some want him dearly, some are tired of him and many haven’t even formed an opinion of him yet.

But still V thinks that he doesn’t exist, like obviously it does but not like how people expect it to.

V thinks life is just there, like standing water waiting to flow. He thinks life doesn’t even care about people and their wishes from him; he just stays until he is no more.

Relax, V too knows that his thoughts don’t make much sense but they don’t have to.

Sometimes, life likes to hide behind these senseless thoughts.

#thoughts #writing my thoughts #explore #writers #mustread #language #life #writing my feelings #meaningless #mind #relatable content #mood #random #shower thoughts #relatable

[myfuneralismytimetoshine]

I'm one of those Rachel Green kind of girls who express myself better writing my feelings down rather than talking. And if I ever come across someone like Ross who is not interested in reading my 18 pages front AND back, misspelled words included, I know he is not coming back into my life.

#and that's that on that #writing my feelings #is aleays better than expressing them outloud and cry in public #thank you next #friends #ross and rachel #gone

[candid-heart-em1304]

INTROVERT

I'm most of the time submissive

I lack the courage to stand up and speak up

I am shy and usually takes that side of the room where no cool kids are found

I have few friends and seldom initiate talks

But then, I am no weirdo

I pay my respect to people

I follow rules and regulations

I am a law-abiding citizen of my country

I am not privilege

I work hard

But oftentimes life is unfair to my kind

Sad but true

People judge

People talk harsh

I am an introvert

I try not to be a people pleaser

Just to be accepted

I try to act as normal as I can

But my normal is strange to some

I don't care (really)

But then it's hard to quite the nosy ones

I am part of the minority

I am not in need of attention nor fame

I just need people to allow me to be me

Don't try to control me

Don't assume that you know me

Don't blame me for not speaking my mind out loud

I am an introvert not dumb

I maybe quite but I am opinionated

I speak when it's necessary

I dismissed arguments that I feel not worth my time and emotions

You're loud and I get that

I respect that you are

Then at least try to respect my boundaries

So we can all live in peace

#introvert #writing my feelings #writing on tumblr #spilled thoughts #spilled feelings #prose poetry #diary entry

[trepidatious-ly]

#poem #poetry #therapy #writing #shit poems #feelings #emotions #working through it #trauma #writing my feelings #bad poetry #shitty poetry #healing #getting better #mental illness #anxiety #PTSD #yikes #men are trash #heavy #sad #reflecting #hurt

[mirofmagma]

Sometimes I wonder what I'm made of;

The scientific part of me knows, I am atoms and flesh and I am blood and dead stars and everything I have ever eaten

But the truth is I'm not, I'm broken glass and flower petals and i'm bullets and a bitter taste of hate and every promise I've ever made

#poetry #original poem #poem #spilled thoughts #writing my feelings #poets on tumblr

[nonebinary-leftbeef]

DEVASTATING the lyric you've been mishearing is better than the real one

#i've been listening to icarus by bastille #and for some reason my brain fills in 'this is how it feels to take a fall' as 'this is how it feels to take off all your skin' #and like fuck man #and I KNOW that’s technically not a misheard lyric but my post my rules cope #anyway my line now #also probably phrased this poorly but its ok #im allowed to be incomprehensible #as a treat #and then fuckin #from we sink by of monsters and men #the original line was 'please look away dont look at me' #and i kept hearing it as 'please learn a way to look at me' #anyway #shoving this post in the queue but please be aware that i am writing it very late at night #q

[pixiemage]

Please, for the love of god, please don’t be this person. No matter how long it’s been since an update, no matter how many unfinished stories are sitting on their account, no matter what - do not be this person.

Not only is it insanely rude, but you also do more damage than you think be being such a self-entitled ass about something someone created for free and for fun. “This author” can see what you say.

RIP decency indeed.

#Archive of our Own #Ao3 #Ao3 Comments #Writing #Fanfiction #Fanfic Writing #I wrote over 100k on that fic before burnout took hold #I poured my heart into what I did manage to finish #adhd’s a bitch that doesn’t always let me write what I want to write but I got that far #don’t make me feel ashamed because you didn’t get to see the ending

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

#almost wrote the champagne line as ''effervescent'' but legit could not write it without saying ''effervescent like a snail'' #ah tumblr... #writeblr #warm up #idk . having trouble writing rn #ps i don't like to talk about it . it is my medical information. but before you ask. yes this is about being on the spectrum #i really don't like when ppl make my writing about how im [whatever ID]. i want it to ring true for the people who it rings true for #i don't want it to be like ''awwwww look at this person!!! she's the EXCEPTION!!! :)" ..... #no.... not really..... #idk something gross happens whenever i admit to certain conditions and i turn into like inspiration p*rnography #like yes they actually let us use keyboards these days #furthermore i just... dont feel comfortable talking about this part of me. i had too bad of a childhood. adhd is one thing... #this one im like. still coming to terms with. which is like. my own journey. #idk. just please be kind. some things are more private than others. this one feels private to me. #i do not know how to help others w/this . and i do not know how to help myself. i will talk about it if im ever ready. idk if that will #actually ever happen #ty in advance i love u im kissing you we are kissing somewhere on the spectrum

[silentthoughtsvoiced]

Being alone has been my choice.

I couldn’t reach out.

I wanted to but I couldn’t.

And that lives with me.

I’ve convinced myself that those that care will stay.

I did. I truly did.

Where is everyone?

Not with me.

Drawing. Writing. Music.

They’ve kept me company.

There’s endless ideas, books, and artists to explore.

But what about that?

Loneliness.

It’s cold.

When I realize the silence, it hit me.

I feel lonely,

and alone.

My choice.

My circumstances.

It was all me.

My self tendency to be a closed book.

It finally happened.

I’m alone…again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A series that I will be writing.

- I’ll pick a gif and write a poem based off what it says.

#my writing #silent thought #sad poetry #writing my thoughts #sad quotes #writerblr #writingblr #writers and poets #writing tumblr #writing on tumblr #tumblr writing community #writing my heart out #sad poem #my poetry #short poem #writers on tumblr #queer artist #writing my feelings #dark academia