we adore the ones who ignore us,
and ignore the ones who adore us
we want love from the ones who hurt us,
and hurt the ones who want love from us.
wanting love from someone who just moved on
Written by usmyy
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@greyskill
we adore the ones who ignore us,
and ignore the ones who adore us
we want love from the ones who hurt us,
and hurt the ones who want love from us.
wanting love from someone who just moved on
Written by usmyy
I’ve always kept my distance from people. I avoided touch — not because I despised it, but because I knew If someone held me, I might fall apart completely. Every bone in me would break.
But right now, in this moment, I’ve never longed for it more. I’ve never truly belonged — not a place, not to a person. But tonight, beloved, I belong to you.
The sun was sinking lower behind the trees as I watch you step into the muddy puddle. I felt the tightness of my chest, the strange weight in my hands. It was ridiculous, how nervous I was. Your lips look like a soft fruit, pink and natural. And I pray that I forget them by morning. The dawn air hitting your skin, blowing your short, soft black hair. And I hated how much I wanted to be in that softness. Not just near it, not just witnessing it, but inside it. Like if I stepped closer, the ache in me would finally rest.
Write on Medium
And as my hand rested over your heart, I realized — it wasn’t just your lips I craved, but the proof that you were real, that you were here, and the fact that for once, what I wanted — wanted me too.
I had told myself I didn’t need to be touched. But then your fingers brushed mine, and my whole body forgot all the fears I had stored away.
I wasn’t made to express how I feel — or maybe I just ignore my emotions because I feel everything too deeply. My tongue ties itself before I even get the chance to speak.
But for you, I will.
Because I want you to know.
You deserve to know.
— Danielle O.
Everyday, I long for you.
Honestly i'm really tired of everything. I would sit on the floor and never get up again
Margaret Wise Brown, The Runaway Bunny
1915
Robert Graves
I’ve watched the Seasons passing slow, so slow,
In the fields between La Bassée and Bethune;
Primroses and the first warm day of Spring,
Red poppy floods of June,
August, and yellowing Autumn, so
To Winter nights knee-deep in mud or snow,
And you’ve been everything.
Dear, you’ve been everything that I most lack
In these soul-deadening trenches—pictures, books,
Music, the quiet of an English wood,
Beautiful comrade-looks,
The narrow, bouldered mountain-track,
The broad, full-bosomed ocean, green and black,
And Peace, and all that’s good.
This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on June 28, 2026, by the Academy of American Poets.
coldest winter of my life
exploring this theme in therapy at the moment.
by glen martin taylor
[ID: a screenshot of a comic speech bubble. The black text in it reads "No matter how open-minded, socially conscious, anti-racist I think I am, I still have old learned hidden biases that I need to examine. It is my responsibility to check myself daily for my stereotypes, prejudices and, ultimately, discrimination." /ID end]
antiracism is a constant process. i was raised in a racist village and it's not easy to get rid of it. i moved away over 10 years ago but those ideas are still haunting me.
also keep in mind that shame + guilt are not conducive to growing as a person. when it comes to "checking yourself" it should be a non-judgemental process. it's not about flagellating yourself for every bad thought or trying to purify your mind of all corruption. it's only when acknowledging your own racist thoughts doesn't fill you with dread that you can really progress past the white guilt of it all.
radical self-acceptance & genuine self-critique are not opposites. they need each other. do not let obsessive-compulsive behaviors colonize your desire to grow as a person.
Leaving the house is really cool because everything is very expensive and everyone’s very unpleasant to be around.