Thought archive

In-the-making engineer and socially awkward lesbian. I also happen to write poetry. Let's relate to deep feelings and lost causes here. english/spanish

[hosmerose]

Construí mi amor desde cero.

Yo cambie, tu negación por afirmación busque el perdón cuando me dijiste que por ser yo, no tenia salvación ¿hasta donde llega tu interpretación?

Soy de tu creación. Muéstrame como tenerte devoción sin desgarrarme el cuello por la inclinación. Ya no tomo tu perdón. tengo el cuello torcido, manos adoloridas rodillas clavadas con espinas, Y estoy a tu favor.

Creo en mi devoción a ser mejor enderecé el cuello, para mirar de frente y no caer victima a tu despecho. el vendaje en mis manos me enseño a valorar la fuerza en mis dedos la bendición que es mi cuerpo sin necesidad de tu afirmación.

La multitud de esfuerzos tercos de mi mente por eliminar las penas inminentes jamás serán influenciadas por mi toque. La gentileza me mantiene a flote Y es la prueba invisible de que soy mejor.

-Todo yo, por hosmerose.

16/9/2025

[hosmerose]

Hand me the frosted cups,

not the crystal-clear ones like I wanted, but the ones that show our love. The ones that show you cared enough to try and it didn't work. I vow to appreciate them, even the failures you can't own.

-Cups, by hosmerose

[hosmerose]

The particular shame that comes after being vulnerable with the right person even though deep in your heart you know you did the right thing.

[hosmerose]

Waiting for the right one feels like war.

do you run towards the feeling or the person? Do you listen to yourself or your intentions?

-The right, by hosmerose.

[hosmerose]

Flores

Y como las flores más hermosas son cortadas para regalar yo te daré la mejor parte de mi corazón roto para que lo veas marchitar.

-Flores, por hosmerose.

[hosmerose]

This will only take Sixty seconds;

To be loved is to be seen. I want to be looked at. for one minute sixty seconds.

Allow me to show you; I have changed I have grown I have learned the words I am good.

For one minute, sixty seconds, I will show you the real weight of kindness that the blood I have bled is no stranger to a loving heart and it's hardships.

It will be a bargain for I will meet your eyes as you watch me. Do not fear, I can endure the blinding act of looking back at one's eyes Let it bleed through the cracks of a mind so deep, so alike.

And then, It's gone. sixty seconds aren't a lot of time we blink faster when we cry it never ends even if you try will you turn again and dare to look back?

A/N : I'm not dead, just wasted. (┬┬﹏┬┬)

[hosmerose]

Yes. Also, here's a poem about it.

To love is to know grief. there it's a certain part of me that dies every time, I realize I lost a part of me that never was. It never stayed. It never bloomed. Or, it was. It stayed awhile it bloomed, like flowers in the open field and left. Like a cycle, it all comes to an end. I end. I grieve. I cry. I am alive. And it all comes back.

A/N: I found this image on Pinterest a couple of days ago(credits to the person who made it). It seemed dumb (by the way, my favorite game from Flipline Studios is Papa's Chesseria, so you can guess how funny that was to me lol) I wanted to post the pic on other socials, then figured, why not make this into my actual feelings. Grief walks beside us more often than we realize.

[hosmerose]

I understand,

You were never meant

to hurt and dwell

But the truth of your regret,

Is you keep the open wound

You refuse to lay to rest.

...............................................................

A/N: Letting go. had this fragment on drafts, figured it was time to post it. It is part of a bigger piece called "The door", let me know if you want to see the full poem. Also, more poems are on the way... <3

speaking of which, I have disappeared. College is not for the weak lol

[hosmerose]

Túmbame

Eso, golpéame. Dame donde mas me duele y recuérdame, porque de la gente se padece.

El ambiente me corroe Y me quema, hasta que de mí, cenizas queden. Recuérdame porque de la vida se desvive Dime como se encuentra la version de mi que vivió cuando tu sol era joven y brillante cuando quemabas duro y no sabias si alumbrar o matarme.

Dime como se sanan las quemaduras que viven en mi arte en mi mente, constantes. Eres tu, la causa de mis pesares O un cobarde O una reflexión de mi falta de compresión?

Eso, dame razones para desquiciarme recuérdame lo difícil de amarte el trabajo de olvidarte Lo duro de mantenerte No perderte, de vivirte. Empújame hasta que quede sin aliento, Y no respire. Yo aguanto todo, hasta las ganas de perderme Rendirme ante los pies del éter. Así que, ven Atrévete a romperme.

8/21/2025

N/A: ya soy trapo entonces... xd

[hosmerose]

Poor street beggar

Can't you see me beg for feels For a steal, of a second to breathe dare, to see the source of your pain and feel I do not mean to force your head But I will have to, If I must dare You need to see me, and reflect back into yourself.

..............................................................

18/8/2025

A/N: begging for love isn't the way to live. begging to be seen? that's a different type of hell on it's own.

[hosmerose]

Solace

I wrote about a love named Solace. She was the epitome of great speeches Words smooth, landed softer than the kisses She laid upon me.

She was bigger than my wishes Small enough to fit the pieces that made my complex heart. In her I found Solace.

She's too good. Made of all the things I said "I would." I needed her to be real for the sake of my own good.

I hope to find her one day I want to see if she's more than the words I made Could she love as well Could she love as pure As I'd want to bet?

8/20/2025

A/N: yearning is one the most obnoxiously overwhelming things. anyway, a poem about my inexistent love. live laugh love women, thank u <3

[hosmerose]

En algún momento, todos estamos allí;

La esquina

Estoy en la esquina, otra vez. No me puedo mover Perdí la sensación en los pies. Ya no puedo ver.

Que van a decir, si me encuentran? Con la mirada perdida, todo en mi cabeza? Una rareza. Soy poco común en mi naturaleza casi no me encuentran. Siento fuerte miro de frente a la violencia de amar con el corazón en la mano, inminente. Con tristeza con resistencia. La vida me muestra con creces las flores aun crecen en grietas.

Y no soy real. La esquina me hace poco visual solo me encuentras en versos de poetas que gritan la rebeldía de querer, con sensaciones intensas, y el alma desecha.

27/7/25

N/A: Lo escribí pensando en la difícil realidad de ser vulnerable frente a ojos maltratados por la falta de gentileza. A veces, las personas no logran entender nuestros pesares, y prefieren mirar a un lado. Pues es mas fácil ignorar.

[hosmerose]

A/N: In between a series of poems I keep writing of the first people that reshaped my heart, there's this one:

I spent so long chasing you. So long chasing a version of you that could soothe my soul, change my course. I didn't for mean things to turn.

I didn't mean to do you wrong. I was charging with all the pain, the expectation, a child with good intentions, you were brave.

I know it is not what we wanted, but, We were brave. We chose survival over the faith of holding hands.

-Just survive somehow

[hosmerose]

-pero me ha tocado ser juez.

Jurado y verdugo. Mi propio juicio, no cometí el crimen, pero debo pagar la fianza para que liberen mi alma. también debo hablar a su beneficio, decidir si se salva ¿quien la saca?, sino yo, la de las manos atadas.-

-Fragmento de Responsables, por hosmerose.

[inkpressedpetals]

[inkpressedpetals]

[hosmerose]

''La rebeldía de sentir en tiempos de guerra.''

— fragmento de "Intro", hosmerose