Ember Wants to Remember

Secondary blog for emberthegenderbender.tumblr.com This one's for reblogs and stuff I like

[poppiesandpromises]

Maybe the time is wearing thin now

The minutes all wander so fast

The clock is condescending

Footprints fade in the sand

I'm turning away

Soft and tender

This twilight

Is the

End

[sanddollarpoems]

I remember

how easily

I was pushed down,

afraid to make

a sound

or stand out.

But fear never led me

to safety,

never revealed

the best me.

Only when I stood up,

took the hit

and crawled on,

did I ever really make it.

I'll keep standing

against the wind

and rain.

I'll keep walking

through the pain,

I'll keep moving

though afraid.

[violentoffender]

[emberwantstoremember]

I asked my wife to have an eyeball and a femur saved. I want my eye preserved to make the pommel of a sword. I want the bone used to make the haft and guard, and I want my ashes worked into the metal of the blade. Then I want her to use that sword to kill whatever got me.

See @skeletalhorse, I'm not crazy!

[skeletalhorse]

Baby, you're not crazy, you just have a wild imagination. And I have no clue where you think I'd find somebody to do this or where I'd get the money for it. AND I will be dying before you so... 😂

[emberwantstoremember]

First and foremost you aren't allowed to die until you've avenged me. Second of all, if you start now, you can learn all of the necessary skills to do it yourself before I die!

[violentoffender]

[emberwantstoremember]

I asked my wife to have an eyeball and a femur saved. I want my eye preserved to make the pommel of a sword. I want the bone used to make the haft and guard, and I want my ashes worked into the metal of the blade. Then I want her to use that sword to kill whatever got me.

See @skeletalhorse, I'm not crazy!

[storiesinthecupboard]

Tiny mythologies

We look for fire inside our walls Burning embers, bright and tall And close the doors that never lead to anywhere at all

Anywhere at all

We listen, closely to the shores, that call for us, we might need more, to run from things that seem to grow and reach as in real time

We're growing far from time

And I'm think I'm falling through the ceiling that I built It's made from soaked paper, and it carries all my guilt, we're lacking in a number of ways that they all see, but maybe the day after, we can write what we could be.

[boycritter]

thinking about anastasia trusova paintings again

[boycritter]

CAN ANYONE HEAR ME

[sioltach]

this website lets you listen to the sounds of all different forests around the world 

[riven-wanders]

Reblogging again cause I tried this site last night and if you need background noise to focus this is perfect for that, I was locked the fuck in on a task. And it’s also just gorgeous to listen to

[cherieve45]

Maybe I'm Missing Something II

Maybe I'm missing something.

Maybe there is a room

beyond the locked doors,

beyond the spreadsheets,

beyond the climbing numbers,

where a billion dollars

suddenly feels small.

Maybe there is a language

spoken only at great heights,

where hunger becomes a statistic,

where homelessness becomes a headline,

where suffering becomes

someone else's responsibility.

Maybe I'm missing something.

Because I have watched people

with almost nothing

split a meal in half,

give away their last dollar,

open their homes,

their hearts,

their time.

And yet somewhere,

beneath towers of wealth

that could outlive generations,

there are those who step over need

as if it were a crack in the sidewalk.

I don't understand it.

I don't understand how a person

can possess more than they could spend

in ten lifetimes,

while children sleep hungry

and families wonder

which bill will remain unpaid.

Not because they are obligated

to save the world.

Not because every problem

belongs to them.

But because compassion seems

like the most natural thing

a human being can carry.

And if kindness survives

among those with the least,

why does it sometimes disappear

among those with the most?

Maybe I'm missing something.

Or maybe the strangest poverty

is not an empty wallet,

but a full vault

and a heart that never learned

how to open.

[with-longing-for-a-girl]

there is something within myself, it clawed it's way to the surface, from aching heart to skin, and now i am all aglow

there is something within yourself, a truth you can't bare to face, you fear it could be sin, it's goodness you can't know,

there is something within ourselves, something of life and grace, and we must let it in, to be the truth we show,

this thing within our souls, our heart becomes its furnace, it burns deep within, but once let out, it glows

[prettylittledrafts]

Wave

My sorrow is not a verdict,

just a wave I have to bear.

It rises, falls, and breaks apart,

but still, I learn to care.

With every breath, my beating heart

is choosing one more day.

I do not need to feel like hope

to prove I want to stay.

[worldbuildingwanderlust]

A memory

Fleeting

And flitting

Across the blue scars

Between

Slates of gray

Smothering

A clouded mind

.

"Was that who I was?"

.

An echo,

Gone as fast it came,

Like a passing

Sheet of rain

.

A thought had once,

And one destined,

To have again

[musingsoftwistedpoet]

even if I don’t say it often

I will wake everyday and choose to

take pride in who I am

refuse to hide what

others would prefer I suppress

radically love myself even

those faults I can’t help but

point out

spent so long covering

oh so many flaws

fore I quickly learned

to be ashamed

before I even understood

take me as I come

darling please do know

despite my moping

would rather be

troubled now than

still hiding beneath

and dying just to

satisfy those whom

dictate over all

[cherieve45]

Ode to My Long Hair

I catch you in the mirror at 6pm,

cascading past my shoulders like a dare.

You’re not just hair. You’re a river I grew on purpose,

warm chestnut, honey, midnight—whatever the light decides you are today.

I love the weight of you.

How you announce me when I walk into a room,

a soft, deliberate swish that says I’m here

before I’ve even opened my mouth.

I love the rituals:

fingers combing through tangles after windy afternoons,

the scent of shampoo that lingers on my pillow,

the way you coil around my wrist like you’re holding me back from rushing.

Some days you’re a crown, sleek and high.

Some days you’re wild, free at 2am,

stuck to my lip gloss and I don’t even care.

You’ve been with me through bad haircuts that weren’t,

through dye jobs, heartbreak, and summers that tried to frizz you into surrender.

People reach out—“Can I touch it?”

No. You’re mine.

A velvet curtain I can disappear behind,

a rope I braid when I need to feel put-together,

a memory keeper: salt from the beach, smoke from last night’s bonfire.

So keep growing.

Sweep my back in winter. Stick to my neck in July.

Be the dramatic exit when I flip you over one shoulder.

Be the quiet comfort I twist around my finger when I’m thinking.

Long, beautiful, mine—

you’re the one thing I get to wear every day

that never goes out of style.

[aprilfoolfrog]

Aluminum

Crushed and twisted

on the side of road.

Sun reflects off of it.

Shiny, like the blood

that sits on exposed flesh.

A cut she didn't feel.

Shallow and meant nothing;

unlike the others,

that burrow in the back of her mind.

She picks up the can

and studies it for a moment,

before tossing it aside.

They were one and the same;

both forgotten on the side of the road.

Written by AprilFool 🐸

6/8/2026

[worldbuildingwanderlust]

I am a ship untethered

Drifting

Sails torn and tattered

Wilting

Anchor unchained

Sinking

Derelict and abandoned

Waiting

For an indifferent sea

To finally

Claim me

[emberwantstoremember]

Sorry for the small text. Wrote this one for my brother, after which we had a lovely and heartfelt conversation. He's been the only one in my family who I can wholly consider a good person and he's done so much to help my wife and I. The only concern he had when I came out to him was what he might have done wrong in the past for me to feel like I couldn't come out to him earlier. Ironically, the only reason I didn't was because I knew, if I did, he would have spent all of his money helping me transition and I didn't want my burden to become his. So thank you for everything Dustin, I love you with all my heart!

[tinydancerinyourhead]

swaying back and forth

in the womb of my hammock

unmoored, whisky neat in hand

honeysuckle weaving the pergola

legs outstretched in morbid heat

bathed in sweet sweat and anguish

imagining what it would be like

to feel enjoyment again

to relish this moment