
oozey mess

★
dirt enthusiast
Xuebing Du

blake kathryn
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

JVL
noise dept.
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Peter Solarz
Cosimo Galluzzi
occasionally subtle

roma★
KIROKAZE

if i look back, i am lost

titsay
Sweet Seals For You, Always

JBB: An Artblog!

Janaina Medeiros
d e v o n
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@bloggertiia
It’s 2017
And I’m made of steel,
I’m a breath of fresh air
Invincible
And with a will stronger than the moon,
It’s the first snowfall of my life
And even though
There isn’t an oven in sight
To keep the homeliness warm,
I am full of bright ideas
That keep me safe
From the winters
I have seen
My footsteps
Leave their mark in the snow,
I watch them disappear
As quickly as they came
And sometimes it makes me wonder
If I’m even real
It’s been five years
And I closing in
On the hand of a land
That refuses to hold my hand back,
I am still adjusting
To the harsh winters
But I don’t have my warm ideas anymore
How do you hold on
To the soft touch of hope
When the world outside your window
Grabs it by the throat
And chokes the life out of it,
Puts the optimism
Out of its misery
Prompt: Dancing with a dinosaur
Would you trust
My anxious fingers
To hold a heart,
I have been told
That I’m clumsy
When it comes
To delicate matters
And I have to tell you
That I’m still carrying
The skin of my mistakes
Under my fingernails,
They’re muddy and red
With the blood of my troubles,
My anxieties have seeped
Into my bones
And I’m carrying
This weight around,
Shackled on my toes
Love, I think I have forgotten
How to breathe
@tiiawrites
Boys should wear dresses
Sunflowers and real people
🌻
*IMPORTANT* If you click the link to my bio, go onto my website and sign up for the newsletter, you will get exclusive access to three of my favorite poems from my upcoming book: Brown Women and Beauty. If the title does not say enough as it is, I will tell you more about it in said newsletter too. So go sign up and help this become a thing, also for the wonderful women who are helping with the book and what it stands for! ♥️ https://www.instagram.com/p/COuNcNHAfUo/?igshid=1qoxg4bborctc
*IMPORTANT* If you go onto my website (tahirasasafkhan.com) and sign up for the newsletter, you will get exclusive access to three of my favorite poems from my upcoming book: Brown Women and Beauty. If the title does not say enough as it is, I will tell you more about it in said newsletter too. So go sign up and help this become a thing, also for the wonderful women who are helping with the book and what it stands for! ♥️ https://www.instagram.com/p/COuNSWwA0on/?igshid=1oiv3jdgtp7t0
Daughters of narcissistic mothers; this Mother’s Day. (The full post is on my blog, link below) My most recent memory of my mother is her sitting on the edge of my bed, screaming at me and my mother and picking up a decorative rock that my boyfriend had given me and blindly throwing it at the wall. Funnily enough, it is the only memory I have of being in the crossfire of my mother’s anger. The bruise on my leg where the rock hit seems to forget that sometimes. I have spent ages learning and unlearning and now all that I am mostly left with is the fear of a man’s anger. I want to dive into picking apart the effect that a toxic mother can have on her daughter. Mother’s Day was warmth and the feeling of home. Now it smells like danger.
https://www.tahirasadafkhan.com/blog/daughters-of-narcissistic-mothers-this-mothers-day?fbclid=IwAR31spOrpUdO6E8JvcQUmufeQ4ofsMrFopzpRMLKm4wn1GTyrdyx2YfjyWg
Mother’s Day used to remind me of flowers. Of soft petals brushing up against your nose when you bend to smell the bouquet that you got your
Daughters of narcissistic mothers; this Mother’s Day. (The full post is on my blog, link below) My most recent memory of my mother is her sitting on the edge of my bed, screaming at me and my mother and picking up a decorative rock that my boyfriend had given me and blindly throwing it at the wall. Funnily enough, it is the only memory I have of being in the crossfire of my mother’s anger. The bruise on my leg where the rock hit seems to forget that sometimes. I have spent ages learning and unlearning and now all that I am mostly left with is the fear of a man’s anger. I want to dive into picking apart the effect that a toxic mother can have on her daughter. Mother’s Day was warmth and the feeling of home. Now it smells like danger. https://www.tahirasadafkhan.com/blog/daughters-of-narcissistic-mothers-this-mothers-day?fbclid=IwAR31spOrpUdO6E8JvcQUmufeQ4ofsMrFopzpRMLKm4wn1GTyrdyx2YfjyWg
I’m petty as hell but at least I admit it ✨ https://www.instagram.com/p/COqRcWahNE-/?igshid=1di5klif8x99w
This just belongs here
not to be horny on main but i want you to get in bed next to me right now and tell me about your day
I can hear summer
Knocking against my window sill,
Bright through the fog
And warm besides the winter-
He laughs
(He laughs)
And I can hear
The crackling of the fire,
Warm hands and safety
In the cold of the woods
That I have come to love,
But then he laughs
And I can feel the cold
Slipping through my fingertips,
The blue fading away
Into soft galaxies
Like velvet against snow
And I almost tell him
Of how I feel like I have memorized
Every note of his laughter,
Wrapped myself in the safety
Of every curve of his lips
And I almost don’t understand
Why I can hear summer
Knocking on my window sill
But then he laughs,
He laughs
And I can feel spring
Forming against my fingertips,
The blue of hurt
Colours itself a shade of red
That does not remind me of anger,
He laughs
And I’m a believer again
-Tahira
I want to ask my mother
To lay me to rest,
My head in her lap
And I want to forget
For some moments
That I am supposed to run,
Turn away and fight,
That I’m supposed to be
Away from this,
I want to turn this around
And escape into moments
That I have only ever heard of,
Of what does not exist
In my memories
The love I might have felt
For the father I might have known,
The one I found shelter in
And not the one that sounded
Like my deadliest storms,
And in sounds I refuse to believe
Even when their silence
Has me up against the wall,
Teeth barred at me
And fingernails digging into skin,
How long until I can breathe
And look around me again,
Violence turned comfort
And mortality turned hope,
For maybe
I won’t have to do this
Not much longer,
Not forever
And maybe not once again
I don’t quite know anymore
How I’m supposed to carve
Ink into this disaster,
Ask me once more
How I feel
And I’ll almost tell you
That I wish I didn’t,
I want to sleep
Under the open sky
And just not run anymore,
To not have my father
Be turned into my enemy,
To not have my mother
Be my thorn,
I want to fall
And not need to get up,
To not have another morning
I am tired of mornings
And of nights,
Of the air around me
I want to ask my mother
To lay me to rest
And just hope that I don’t get up
To bother her again,
I want to turn this around
And forgive my father,
Or not have the need to
Want his love at all
From myself I want nothing more
Than for my bones to stop hurting,
For my world to stop spinning
Like it is trying to hurl me out,
For these years to stop
Feeling like the decades off my life,
For my mortality
To finally show itself
And if I wish to die with the stars
Does it mean I’m crazy
Even if I ask for it, like you would for sleep
-Tahira
Hey! Go check this out rn!