ღ Dolluette’s Journal ღ @dolluettes-prose - Tumblr Blog

Dolluettes🪶

Dear gentle-readers and other writers,

Just another Californian writer who's in their mid-20s, that writes what the heart cannot say in the form of quotes, poetry, and often unsent letters are either viewing life through fictional characters that's placed onto pages of romance and mystery-thriller books with a purpose known as "happily ever after" or has a gut-wrenching ending that takes the readers sense of reality in more ways than one

Wanna be poetry and/or writing buddies?

♱ possible names you prefer to me as:

✮ Alisa ✮ Asia ✮ Nae

♱ pronouns: she/they

♱ Zodiac Chart (Co-Star) 00's baby

✮ Sun Sign ☀︎ Pisces ✮ Moon Sign ☾ Capricorn ✮ Rising Sign ↑ Scorpio

May this poet's journal hold value to those that stumbled across and have a love for the literary arts; whether it's reading or writing them. Dolluettes has become a treasurable "blog" in the last year for me, after learning how to compose heartbreak and other emotions into something that heals emotional scars, transforming my idea of love and many feelings into strength that's heartfelt but filled with vast amounts of beauty.

continue reading to read a self-written quote by dolluettes

#dolluettes.intro #dolluettes.pinned #dolluettes.pinned post #dolluettes.thoughts #dolluettes.txt #literature #literature quotes

Do you feel that? Its my heart aching to meet yours could this be the definition of yearning or would a poet choose to describe this moment as something more. Perhaps they’d compare yearning to “It’s the ground collapsing underneath my feet because I've forgotten how consuming and beautiful love can be—as it devoures us to the point of being completely unrecognizable”

dolluettes-prose

It’s winter time for obvious reasons one can tell simply from the temperature changes—how the weather invites a chill and downpour into different parts and places that I stumble into.

It’s a new love, indescribable and coats itself in text messages, voice notes—surprised phone calls. I want to smell the cologne and bottle it up for an eternity letting it comfortably embed itself into my skin. When my mind drifts off from reality I can see your image taking form before my eyes. It’s only us, lying side by side—you have my full attention; tears flood my eyes. I define them as “tears of love” I’m yours and you are mine

dolluettes-prose

Like the original post please not the reblog, I tend to delete them to avoid overloading the account with the same content or written pieces. I appreciate all the interactions and support you’ve shown me

Happy New Years and Thank you 🩷

Here’s the original post https://www.tumblr.com/dolluettes-prose/805646978744778752/its-winter-time-for-obvious-reasons-one-can-tell

💬 0 🔁 1 ❤️ 0 · It’s winter time for obvious reasons one can tell simply from the temperature changes—how the weather invites a chill and d

#love aesthetic #lovecore #love prose #original prose #original words #romance #romancecore #soft hours #yearning hours

It’s winter time for obvious reasons one can tell simply from the temperature changes—how the weather invites a chill and downpour into different parts and places that I stumble into.

It’s a new love, indescribable and coats itself in text messages, voice notes—surprised phone calls. I want to smell the cologne and bottle it up for an eternity letting it comfortably embed itself into my skin. When my mind drifts off from reality I can see your image taking form before my eyes. It’s only us, lying side by side—you have my full attention; tears flood my eyes. I define them as “tears of love” I’m yours and you are mine

Will I be too much for hands that try to hold me? I've been held carelessly in the past; I've also been the distant friend, timid-shy child {but often noisy}, abandoned youngest, and self-sabotaging lover. I'm not the typical crazy, that'll be loud—instead I'm a version of crazy that's silent and territorial but that form of crazy is never enough for a generation that idealizes chaoticness on a whim and desires instability. Would you still love me, knowing that even when I'm "crazy" over and about you it’s because I’ve obsessively embedded you into every crevice that’s part of me.

Maybe, love is a sense of calmness? When you find that special someone that shuts down your nervous system in a way that says, “you’re safe here”

—Asia // dolluettes-prose

Is love considered a spectrum, when two people come together in ways that makes our sense of gravity questionable? If so, does one float above the clouds and the other tries to find a route that carries them easily into the air {maybe, they take hold of a hot air balloon until they’ve reached their lover.} OR maybe, it's not that simple as we'd like to believe for the spectrum travels between "I'll love you until the sunlight beams through the curtains of the window" to "I rather merge my soul with yours completely intertwined for an eternity"

—Asia // dolluettes-prose

How does a poet write about love so positively without mentioning the parts that made them question their existence? When it’s gut-wrenching and often profound without fail, perhaps the poet would choose to compare the two as no other than blissfulness and an experiment of misery “I’d hand you a scalpel, praying to the heavens that you’d be careful and not cut my artery—poking around as you discover the fragility of each part of me that finds your love fulfilling. In hopes of not choking on my own blood, for I’ve tasted it more than I can count; yet I know of paper cuts and gunshot wounds that leaves both life and death at the scenes. Questioning the difference between insanity and sanity, wondering if I’ve gone mad with the idea of you.”

—Asia // dolluettes-prose

In moments of doubt, I’ve prayed for a love that remains pure even when our minds are the impurest things about us—wondering what your mouth feels like on every part of my body.

—Asia // dolluettes-prose

I wasn't expecting to fall for you, although the simplest things carry me away with ease. Could it be that I never truly understood love until I met you? It doesn't seem like lust engulfs us, it's not purely sexual for we do exchange our "I miss yous" and "I adore yous" intensely. {I'm scared that you'll see the real me} that you'll hold me with caution at first but become careless as If you didn't intend to pursue this, us—me. {I want you, for eternity} hopelessly in love with you, knowing your love has touched me in a way that's indescribably perfect.

—Asia // dolluettes-prose

It's strange being "in love"—how is it your soul captivated me and you never once asked to see my bare skin. You admire my body as is fully clothed— not pleading to dissect me from the inside-out, your hands and mouth haven't met my flesh with certainty believing that's all I am.

Yet, somehow my lips crave to meet yours. I crave a connection with you that runs deeper than any ocean, to read each memory that hides in the fold of your brain. To know, the ordinary things that brought God's magnificent creation to life— I want to know the unordinary things that resembles flaws and mistakes, so I can love you more and never less. A love that runs deeper than romance novels but let's our generation believe in something magical without lust

—Asia // dolluettes-prose

I've seen love both conditional and unconditional, It's often hidden described as quiet but never as obsession. Then there's transactional love that disguises itself as unconditional but only consumes you and doesn't allow you to get close enough to consume them. Me, I am unconditional love always wearing my heart on display but captured by careless hands. It's unconditional without you having to ask for it— never will it be conditional.

—Asia // dolluettes-prose

Love isn't Love without the sense of betrayal, but when it comes to love I'd do anything for you. Even if that meant wreaking havoc in a world that was born to hurt us.

—Asia // dolluettes-prose

To the one I'll marry one day,

Will you notice my insecurities? I'm not talking about, how society has taught that my skin tone is anything other than beautiful and the way this generation teaches that anyone who isn't caucasian or light-skinned will find themselves being overly sexualized. Although these fall into the list, will you notice— the way I pull at my clothes when they outline the figure of my body, maybe you'll spot the tears in the corner of my eye after attempting to try on a clothing item or dream angels bra set.

While these are only part of my insecurities, will you notice the tears in my eyes in times of doubt. When I sit beside you asking a visible question that's written on my forehead, "Why did you choose me?" "Am I who you wanted or Was I who you settled for?" and may you answer each and every question I come to you with honesty. May I feel loved enough to not question your loyalty and faithfulness as I wait for the shoe to drop.

—Asia // dolluettes-prose

Can I tell you a secret, without fears rising to the surface? I want to be loved and witness it in its purest form. I want to feel its touch at dusk when the lights are dimmed, after we've spent lost hours admiring each other's bodies throughout the night. Your fingers interlacing with mine and in a faint whisper, you say "I fucking love you," letting a kiss take place as a moment of passion so profound it submerges me, suffocating me with a love where lust has no form. While dusk turns into dawn, your fingers untwine from mine only for a little bit until we find each other in the kitchen; the palm of our hands touching and fingers interlacing once more as you twirl me around, lowering me down softly onto the chair. Watching you pour the coffee into our mugs, leaving a kiss on my forehead.

—Asia // dolluettes-prose

Beating hearts, echoed by remembrance; knowing there once was an us although it was short-lived. Not long enough to be considered forever but not too short that we could be marked as temporary.

—Asia // dolluettes-prose

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