I Have Things to Say

Sometimes I write strange poetry and other times I'm not so eloquent. 

[disabilityhealth]

Don’t be a “respect is earned not given” kind of person

Be a “respect is given unless proven undeserved” kind of person

[xxskulldog]

Fuck Feelings

[arborglia]

someone: raise your hand if you thought you were okay but now you're not okay and you're not sure if that's okay or not

me: *raises both hands*

[flatlinedheart]

[lifeinpoetry]

“What does it feel like to be lonely? It feels like being hungry: like being hungry when everyone around you is readying for a feast. It feels shameful and alarming, and over time these feelings radiate outwards, making the lonely person increasingly isolated, increasingly estranged. It hurts, in the way that feelings do, and it also has physical consequences that take place invisibly, inside the closed compartments of the body. It advances, is what I’m trying to say, cold as ice and clear as glass, enclosing and engulfing.”

— Olivia Laing, from The Lonely City: Adventures in the Art of Being Alone

[arborglia]

I don’t understand how i can be so anxious that my entire chest hurts and my stomach feels hollow and still have a heart rate of only 100 bpm

[danger]

[whinier]

Don’t you hate when you realise you’re not special to someone anymore? Like you still talk, but they don’t talk to you the same, or do those little things that showed they really liked you.

[dead-girl24u]

[f-r-u-s-t-a-t-e-d]

[mae0x]

i feel too emotional, too unemotional, too attached, too unattached. never an in between

[greelin]

what i have learned from talking about my feelings

it’s better to not talk about my feelings

[artemius]

[photographersunite]

[arborglia]

me: barely fucks up a minuscule interaction with someone who i'm close with and who i know cares about me

my brain, regardless: YOU FUCKED UP!!! *sirens blaring* CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT! CUT! CU

[arborglia]

Do you know that line from Perks of Being a Wallflower?

“And you’re listening to that song and that drive with the people you love most in this world. And in this moment I swear, we are infinite.”

In this moment, the sky outside is blue and pink and orange and so sweet I hurt–

I’m listening to Jon Bellion, that smooth voice singing: took fifteen hits ‘till I could barely walk. 

In this moment, my room is dark, the plants on my windowsill outlined by the sinking sun reflecting off the snow at the end of another day among million-billions. 

I have felt infinite before but right here and now I feel ephemeral; I am so, so small; 

I am a sliver,

an infinity of nothing. 

[arborglia]

i remembered today the shapes of your fingernails, the way you hold your hands when you speak, the weightlessness of your hair (so light, really, it floats in the wind), the timbre of your voice in our library room

i sometimes forget that we had good times before we had bad times and it’s almost a year now since we had our bad times, but — boy, do i miss you