this is a title @causeghostwasinspiredbyhamlet - Tumblr Blog

Honey

There is a rose on my bed side table. I don’t remember putting it there but it seems to be sitting in a puddle of some obscene liquid, so I’ve decided to let it be.

I can’t breathe properly. It hurts. Like my lungs will not expand all the way, like they’re filled with honey - but I know it won’t be nearly as pretty as that. That’s why I’m lying in the middle of the floor watching the ceiling fan turn round and round.

I thought lying down would give me more room to breathe; it did for a while but the ache is getting worse, the honey thicker. It feels like it is turning into something more solid. I try to breathe in but the air won’t come , why won’t it come in? Sitting up, panic starts to set in. I begin to breathe faster and faster; with each breathe my lungs get heavier and heavier. They say with enough pressure you can turn peanut butter into diamonds. I wonder if the same is true for honey? Ah it hurts now, oh god does it hurt. I need to get it out. I need to breathe.

My hands make their way up to my chest, fingertips brushing the fabric of my shirt

If I could just get it out

My fingers trace the outline of my ribs as the last of my breath shudders out. Tracing is replaced by digging, fingers by nails

It’s not working - why isn’t working

Push harder

Just get it out of me

My nail catches; flesh gives way to bone and I feel each crack as I pry my ribs apart - I never realised just how warm blood was

A grin crosses my face as I reach for my lungs. A hitch; then. Out spills dozens and dozens of flowers. Tumbling down my chest and pooling on the floor around me. Whites and yellows all stained pink and red. I gasp as the flowers are replaced with cool, fresh air.

It comes in too fast and I fall to my hands gagging. The air coming out of me is replaced by solid, then liquid as I heave everything out of my body onto the floor in front of me in one final lament. I rock back onto my heels as the last of my energy leaves my body.

I look up to see the rose by my bed side gone. The puddle is now slowly dripping down the side of the table. I have an idea of what the liquid may be now.

#writing #creative writing #poetry

Hope, joy and unity

I feel this dull ache grow within my chest

The time is slowly slipping through my hands

My sadness shall never be put to rest

For longing of this place all else withstands

The happiness I may have never found

I think of all the memories I’ve made

People I cherish, strong to which I’m bound

My longing for this place will never fade

For now I say parting is such sweet sorrow

Both you and I are bound for newer things

I wish I could say I’ll see you tomorrow

And wait for what the new day here will bring

For hope, for joy, for unity I roam

As in this place I truely felt at home

#poerty #sonnet #writing

My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth

This is a rewrite of the first sonnet I did - except no longer in sonnet form 👌🏼 (which means it’s quite abit messier)

‘My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth’ - a line from a scene in Hamlet, I couldn’t tell you which. Our teacher says it’s important, that it has a deep profound meaning and gives a true look into hamlets mind. That it explores his motives. She said to compare him to the way we think - I think it’s fucking stupid. Why should I take advice from a guy who got himself killed.

Actually no, y’know what, I think he’s pathetic. He spends the entire play wallowing in misery, asking; to be or not to be, and never actually doing. He listens to his head but then doesn’t stop to act. He just keeps listening and listening until everyone ends up dead. If I were him the king would be gone by the end of act I. I wouldn’t have stopped to think, I just would have done.

And yet I can’t get the sentence out of my head. ‘My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth’ it just keeps playing over and over ‘my thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth’. I don’t even know what it means but it’s starting to sound more believable. ‘My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth’ It’s the only thing I hear at night when the teeth come out and the claw slowly wrap around me. I can’t stop it, I can’t think, I can’t DO anything.

‘My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth’. Maybe I’m not so differnt from Hamlet after all.

#poerty #angst #thoughts #writing #fiction #slam?

Mirror

I don’t know who I am or what I want to be - not really.

I look in the mirror and am filled with - I don’t know what I’m filled with.

Some days it’s with dispair and extreme pain, wondering who would let me out like this and why I exist at all.

Some days I can’t even look in the mirror at all; those are the bad days.

Still others it is with a god-like pride; I look and look and just can’t take my eyes off it, I am gorgeous- nigh angelic (maybe a tad self indulged).

However most days I just stare in with confusion and an overwhelming sense of emptiness. Occasionally a glimpse of pride or self loathing will flash across but I just feel Indifferent.

The person in the mirror looks strange. With hair that never seems to do what it’s told and wonky eyebrows.

When I was younger I used to look in the mirror and not recognise who was staring back at me - so I cut off all my hair.

It worked for a while.

But now the feelings starting to come back; mostly on the days where I don’t feel anything. I no longer recognise the always spotted forehead or nose that never quite looks right.

I’m starting to no longer recognise my face, But this time I don’t know what to do about it.

I don’t know who I am or what I want to be - but I know this isn’t it.

#poetry #writing #thoughts #identity

shitty poetry

incase anyone I know ever finds this, I shall provide no context

watching you one night I imagined what it would feel like to have your hands pressed against my thighs.

- then you winked at me, and suddenly every little thing you did seemed to be for me.

I still think about wether you can hear what im thinking.

#ohgodwhy #poerty #shitty poetry #imgoingtodiealone

my thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth

this is my first attempt at writing a Shakespearean sonnet. it is based off a quote from hamlet Ive had stuck in my head for the last week or so :)

‘my thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth’