anja.

welcome to the madness // original poetry and shitposts about books

[bvkspine]

the amount of books you consume is not an appraisal of your worth as a reader nor should it be a criterion for any type of hierarchical separation among people who love reading

[anjawritespoetry]

i am slumped against a bedroom wall

metaphorically speaking, i am nowhere

i grab a fistful of air, clutching nothingness in my hand as if it is gold

from where i am sitting, i simply cease to exist

i am not gone, but forgotten

my name is bitter on your tongue

you whisper it in an attempt to remember why it is embedded in your mind

am i your imaginary best friend that doesn’t visit anymore?

no, but sometimes she keeps me company

we are in emotional debt

we are both last causes

you try to put a face to my name, but you’ve already burned the last photograph

completely face blind as the flames from your candle cosume me

it smells like flowers, and my grandmothers curtains

there is nothing left of me now

i am alone with my own thoughts (or lack thereof) 

[anjawritespoetry]

if i ran into a cute guy in a post office in new york i’d immediately ask for his number. RIP to arthur but i’m different

[anjawritespoetry]

i am out of breath, exhausted by my own existence

i am plagued by problems that i haven't a clue how to solve

i am lonely, but refuse to burden another with my troubles

[anjawritespoetry]

as the water under the bridge dries up

and your thoughts slow as you drift off to sleep

i sing you a song with no melody

and as my eyes dry up from staring awake

and i change my heart to still not feel a thing

i sing you a song with no steady beat

[anjawritespoetry]

maybe you weren’t meant to be my forever, but i’m happy that you could be my for now.

-excerpt from the end of infinity

[anjawritespoetry]

do you have any book recommendations?

here are some of my personal favourites :)

what if it’s us- becky albertalli & adam silvera

turtles all the way down- john green

juniper lemon’s happiness index- julie israel

red, white & royal blue- casey mcquiston

boy meets boy- devid levithan

jaws- peter benchley

[anjawritespoetry]

i just think i act this way because when i look into the mirror, there's a different person looking back at me

-excerpt from 2 way mirror

[anjawritespoetry]

i do not fear the endless abyss more than i fear myself

i do not feel joy in the notion that tomorrow exists

i do not feel sorrow in the generalization that is death

i do not feel, for i only listen and stand idly by, unaware of the concept of love

[anjawritespoetry]

i have fallen out of love with the person i used to be

[anjawritespoetry]

over the years i've learned that you can be whoever you want on the internet, but the sad thing is i can't even decide who that person is supposed to be

[anjawritespoetry]

i remember reading will grayson, will grayson by john green a few months ago, and i thought the band 'neutral milk hotel' was fictional, but then i went to apple music, searched it, and found out they actually exist.

that's the story of how i discovered my favourite band

[anjawritespoetry]

i feel like a stranger in my own skin// i feel like an imposter in my own mind

[anjawritespoetry]

i think motivation is an overrated concept// i don't feel it anymore

[anjawritespoetry]

i am a melancholic// i am addicted to sadness

[anjawritespoetry]

i just found this line in one of my old journals and i absolutely love it

[anjawritespoetry]

you

you are in the lines i write

in the shadows that hover over my thoughts

you are fear

you are love

you are the person i used to be

you are in the photos tacked upon my wall

you are in the music i play

you are the bleeding noise that pollutes me

you are the smell of fresh flowers

you are the cracks upon my skin

you are a mirror that reflects my helpless state

you are hope

you are a tear that falls on the grass

you are made of golden light

me

i am nowhere near you

i am a deep melancholic aching

i am a voice that calls you home

i am the nightingale that sings you to sleep

i am pain

i am the poetry scribbled in a school notebook

i am a wilting flower in your garden

i am the sweetness of bliss and the bitter sting of regret

i am sorrow

i am a sad song playing on the radio of your car

i am the fear you dancing in your eyes

i am the forgotten book on your nightstand

i am the abandoned dream of tomorrow

i am made of shadow

(i think this is is one of the most genuinely personal things i have ever written and i'm really proud of how it turned out)