I have loved you like an overflowing sink; far above my being and more than I could stomach.
-//excerpt from a book I'll never write
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Peter Solarz

blake kathryn
trying on a metaphor
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d e v o n

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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we're not kids anymore.

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taylor price
almost home
will byers stan first human second

Origami Around
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if i look back, i am lost
Sade Olutola
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@clxec
I have loved you like an overflowing sink; far above my being and more than I could stomach.
-//excerpt from a book I'll never write
I Will Tell this Story to the Sun Until You Remember that You are the Sun, Erin Slaughter
Everytime I remember you, I alter you.
In my memory, you are softer, edges erased. In my heart, you are bathed in sunlight, yellow warmth. I wake up loving you and when I come home, I still love you.
In my dreams, you never speak; it makes no matter, I keep your voice between the bones of my ribcage. I take it out sometimes and hold it in my hands; I caress my fingers over it, touch it to my lips that I may not forget, that I may not forget the cadence of your tongue, the lines beside your mouth. And when I have drunk myself into the very depths of despair, I tuck it back carefully inside, that I may save it from the carnage of my collapsing heart.
In my memory, you shimmer like a ghost; when I reach out for you, my hands pass through the smoke but it makes no matter. I am content with the image of you, I am content with my eyes upon yours, I am content. I could fill pages upon pages with your likeness and I do, in my dreams I do, I do. In my dreams, I lace my fingers through yours, in my dreams I once again beg you to alter that which I remember, that which I could. I wake up loving you and when I come home, I still love you.
In my memory, you smile softly, you look at me like you could love me. In my memory, I don't smile back. I look at you like I love you.
— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath
[text ID: And so it seems I must always write you letters that I can never send.]
— Sylvia Plath, from “Parliament Hill Fields”
This longing for you is a second skin under mine; and some days I can only think of you with my heart crushed inside my fist.
I died a lot to live a little with you.
Yaghma Golroei
Your name is like blood in my mouth.
Eclipse by Ben J
I’ve followed the root of your smile to the bruises forgiveness has kept from your sleep, and you still find ways to plant stars in every rain drop.
I look at you and know the world is a beautiful place despite it all.
the day I lost myself in you, I had nothing to lose.
If you are ever wondering if I'm thinking about you, I am.
I would have drowned in that storm a thousand times over
for you to have stayed, and traced veins of blue down my throat again
my trembling hands will remember the ridges of your body
and my heart shall tear itself apart to smile, sundered that it is from yours
but the sea is cruel tonight
and I am melancholy though I know not why
your sky calls my name again, dream
tell me, when I jump, could I fly?
your hand is a corpse i hold to my heart;
― Salma Deera, Letters From Medea
[text ID: The centre of every poem is this: / I have loved you. / I have had to deal with that.]
“In language I combine my flesh with yours, and you with mine; my flesh is tender, my skin aches from knowing you,”
— Alice Notley, from Certain Magical Acts
I can’t stand the thought of not hearing from you any more.
—crudeverse
And when you hold my knees; I swear I can hear myself breaking into a million pieces, fitting into every hole of your heart.
I'll give you my heart to make a place for it to happen; evidence of a love that transcends hunger. Is that too much to expect? That I would name the stars for you?
I name the moon after you, to bask in your presence every night and now that you left, I swim in the light of the pain.
“And there is nothing between us but rain. Then there is nothing between us at all.”
— Beth Revis, Across the Universe