ella

Ella. Writer.

[ciinderella]

Once upon a time, a witch

stabbed a young prince in the heart

and pushed him down a tall mountain

She looked over his body with a grin

"Poor boy, " she said. "If only he hadn't trusted the sweet lies of a witch."

But the boy survived the fall.

He gathered his mangled body

pulled the knife out his heart

And stood up strong wielding it like a sword

He vowed to slay the witch

Bring an end to her tyranny

The witch trembled in fear

For she had begun to regret trying to kill the boy

She realized he was quite sweet and a little handsome

And definitely brave, for not many could stand up to a witch

But she only wished he had stayed dead

Because she could no longer bring herself to hate this handsome prince

So she stood still while he scaled the mountain, knife in hand

And prepared to be stabbed to death

[ciinderella]

why do you still haunt my dreams?

Though the leaves of summer have fallen, and autumn's bare trees have since been covered in snow...

even now, as freezing days melt into warm spring

who knew

that you would still haunt my dreams with promises I wish you'd keep

Though a million kilometers away, your presence troubles my mind

who knew love could fly?

[thoughtkick]

“there are people you haven’t met yet who will love you”

— Unknown

[siir-poesia]

[ciinderella]

Lines spill from my fingers at the most unexpected moments; I store them away for the day the pieces decide to come together to build a story

[elwenyere]

– Robert Bly

[ciinderella]

now we are old

our limbs have grown

although our brains

have barely matured

your heart disappeared

or perhaps it had never been there

I still remember

what it felt like

to be that little girl

tiny and in love

but you have forgotten

another bittersweet curse of time

[siir-poesia]

[sorata-ayumi]

Isa M.

[ciinderella]

Because she loved the water

she never thought it would hurt her

But soon she would realize

that the ones we love are always the first to pull us under

-“drowning”

[astraeye]

i've only written either romantic poems or sad ones and i think this speaks millions about me

[metamorphesque]

― Margaret Atwood, You are Happy

[ciinderella]

I have not lived enough happy years

to write rose-tinted autobiographies

So listen to me while I lie to you

as I write dreams and fake realities

[siir-poesia]

“When people say “culture is meant to be shared” I’m literally like? Because that has literally never been the purpose of any culture. Culture is about identity, community and family. It’s about tradition. It is not and has never been about “sharing”.”

—

[ciinderella]

This!

[ciinderella]

The words keep escaping me

Once upon a time, there lived a word-catcher

She caught the words that floated through the branches of the universe with her pen and whisked them into bowls of paragraphs and poems that were later baked into the hallucinogenic cakes she would eat every night to forget the other side of the world

The side that knew no words

(At least not like she did)

One day (because the world had stolen hers again) the word-catcher went to find new words

She waited as she usually did for the words to come to her

For them to be her blankets in the cold of the night

For them to steal her back to the other reality

Where the ground and the sky and the people were replaced by words

Because words never hurt her like they did

But her words were gone

They never came back

[ciinderella]

My favourite memory of us is sitting next to you in silence, just watching you smile and the rest of the world blur next to us.

(The truth is you might have been saying something but I wasn't paying a lot of attention. I was too busy thinking: shoot, I might like this guy.)

[ciinderella]

For Christmas I want a therapist