Misfit Anatomy

Kawelwa, 25. I am wrong more often than I am writing. And even then, I am often wrong.

[alaskaisnothere]

“To fuck or not to fuck? A question as old as time. A question I am always asking myself when I am with you. Staring at you as you laugh wildly at your own joke, I can totally see a world were we are more. But for once in my life, my need for pleasure does not trump my need for a friend. So it’s enough for me that you stay the way you are, without me ever being inside you. Just meet half way. Meet me in awkward conversations we can never have in polite company. Meet me when I need a hand or a shoulder, sometimes I will need both. Sometimes I won’t know what I need, I will just walk towards you. Meet me half way. I can picture this world, you know? I can picture being in your arms and staring into your eyes and making funny faces until we laugh so much that we forget about the external world. I believe we are happy in another universe, another life, where we are different people and life didn’t throw so much shit at us. But I also believe we can be happy in this one just by being what we are; two people who found a connection so precious that it goes beyond sex and pleasure. Two people who understand each other, when no one else did. Two people who will never, ever be apart.”

— A collab between my amazing friend @writingbykawelwa and @giulswrites

[alaskaisnothere]

“growing up as an only child, you soon learn about two very different things: loneliness and suffocation. about the first one, i was very introverted, so i spent a lot of time by myself. it wasn’t a problem until i saw my classmates laughing and making plans, and all i had coming home were my books and my words. but suffocation, man, i hated it. i hated seeing my life take shape in their hands, i hated to disappoint, i hated feeling guilty for not liking what they wanted me to. because when you are an only child, you feel like your parents’ only hope to make their dreams come true but remember this: you are your own person and your own dreams are just as much as worthy as theirs. There are times I wanted to be alone. But the thing about growing up with many siblings is: privacy is not not an option. I remember getting into arguments about things like, who left the water running, who said what about who to who, or who was watching what first. Most of the time, I would go to the back of the yard, take some time to think about how unfair everything was, how everyone of them was a shit-head, how much better my life would be if I was an only child. But every time, one of my siblings would show up and sit beside me. The last thing I wanted to do was talk but the idiot wouldn’t shut up, the idiot would crack a joke, the idiot would not leave me alone. It did not matter if I was wrong or right. I was never either of them alone. I learned how to hide under polite smiles, and spoons that colored the roots of the sun red, yet your hand still stung expired silhouettes to every misspelled word. we wrote of tears to display collapsing veins, a prologue that wouldn’t crumple for a touch. laughter was a porcelain exchanged with the wombs that filled mouths over cursive skies. there are no maps for the way back, there is no warmth for the stars that pull on your ears. My feelings are all the same shape, yet I live in the residue of almost. They say we all have demons, and maybe I just chose to feed mine, but if I don’t write you down, you’ll die on the inside too.”

— a collab with my lovely friends @writingbykawelwa and @teacup13 (they are so talented i love them so much)

[imperceptiblyslowly]

Some I did with my favorite girls @teacup13 and @giulswrites. Such talents.

[alaskaisnothere]

It was a typical January night, with me all snuggled under the covers and a book on my lap. It was an interesting book but I just couldn’t focus on it. My mind kept going back to that afternoon when I met you again in the café. You were glowing. I have to admit, you’ve never looked better, probably because I wasn’t in your life anymore. You always reproached me for being too nosy but isn’t a relationship supposed to be based on trust? And I knew nothing about you, except what you wanted me to. You sat down next to me and asked me about my life and you seemed genuinely interested. That’s the thing about you, you always care about what you don’t have: money, women, power. And as much as I still love you, I won’t fall for you another time. There are some things certain people will never understand, not because they don’t want; the mechanics of the world just won’t let them. You were so eager to know about me, my childhood and experiences and got frustrated when I said there was nothing to be told. You just assumed I was secretive. You thought I was vain for wanting the things I have never had; the things you never had to seek. You couldn’t understand that my past was something I escaped from and didn’t plan on revisiting. But maybe, if I had been more open about the nothingness that was my life: you would know you were the best thing to ever happen to me and I had to let you go because, in my world, good things don’t last.

Collab with the Ed to my Taylor, Mr. @writingbykawelwa <3 (via giulswrites)

[imperceptiblyslowly]

Amazing person award! 💛💛 ✨💛 This is the Amazing Person Award! Once you are given this award you are supposed to paste it in the ask of eight different people, who, in your opinion, deserve it. If you break the chain nothing will happen, but it is sweet to know someone thinks you’re amazing inside and out 💛✨

Thank you so much!!!!!You have no idea how amazing you are 💛

[imperceptiblyslowly]

There was history in the sand

Memories on fallen leaves

A relief in the addiction

And story behind every need

She had pain in her eyes

And a struggle to breathe

And there was me: trying to convince her she was loved.

writingbykawelwa

[imperceptiblyslowly]

Stories of your time in Egypt were met with stories of my holiday in England: how I almost met the queen. You said the best moment of your life was when you reached the peak of Mount Everest but seeing the Eiffel tower was a close second. I told you meditating with monks in Thailand was my best moment. I have never even been to Thailand. The more we grew, the less exciting our stories were. I never did ask you if all your stories were true. You didn't ask either. I guess we figured what's the point of investigating the past when we could be creating the future?

writingbykawelwa

[alaskaisnothere]

Do you want to know a secret? Come closer, but not too close or you will get weird ideas. Because that’s what I am to you, right? A pair of legs who will spread according to your will. A pair of knees who will bend to pray in the morning and will satisfy your pleasures in the evening. I’m sorry if I’m being too blunt but my mouth can talk, among other things. And we’re the same, you and I. We share the same wishes, the same sins, the same thoughts but only I will be blamed for it. I bleed in red valleys ending at the maturity of your thoughts. You bleed into paintings strung across the same notes that bind our shoes, and while I’m restricted to interpreting lips for wants I don’t desire, I still crave understanding that surpasses the skin I’m greeted in. You raised a person when you held her shoulders down and loved in self-conscious, yet wonder why she trusts people like a voice to text to get thoughts right the first time. Is an apology for privilege a welcome one? Should a win not matter because someone lost? Do I have to spell out the words I AM SORRY every time someone treats you unfairly for reasons that can’t be explained with clothes on? If I was sure it would help you lead a life better than the goddesses we came from. I would. I have always known you were no different from me. I just wondered if you knew it, too. Because that’s a start.

Collab between the three musketeers, better known as @giulswrites  @teacup13 , @writingbykawelwa (via giulswrites)

[sarahmariepardy-deactivated2018]

Writers! It’s Time For You to Vote!

The nominations are in, now it’s time to get to voting! Voting will close on Sunday, June 25th. The winners will then be announced Sunday by 5PM NDT. Thank you for all of your nominations, I hope to see lots of votes! YOU MUST CLICK THE VOTING LINK TO VOTE! Once you visit the link, scroll down and the options should be listed left to right with a left/right scroll bar (not sure how it looks on mobile). Remember there are 6 options per each category! Click the empty circle under the option you want and confirm your vote with the button on the bottom right! Please let me know if any of the links are broken. Everyone is tagged below so that you can view their blogs before voting.  *To be considered for a category, your blog doesn’t have to only post one type of content. For example, if you write rhyming AND non-rhyming poems, you may still be nominated for Favorite Rhyming Poet. If you write short AND long poems, you may still be nominated for Favorite Short Poem Writer (and so on). The first 5 nominees were determined by me and the 6th was voted in by YOU guys out there in tumblr world.   Favorite Rhyming Poet Nominee #1: @mikefrawley Nominee #2: @deadsensescompany Nominee #3: @definegodliness Nominee #4: @mariposaheart Nominee #5: @abrighterspark Nominee #6 (PardyPeople’s Nomination): @ellenya (SO MANY NOMS!) Voting Link: https://doodle.com/poll/ifv46igwyxvi8x72 Favorite Short Poem Writer Nominee #1: @goodtwitch Nominee #2: @poetlegit Nominee #3: @redleafhaiku Nominee #4: @chucklingpecan Nominee #5: @themagicinmypen Nominee #6 (PardyPeople’s Nomination): @sapphire-red Voting Link: https://doodle.com/poll/xw7fdntcugd3udui Favorite Prompt Participant (wrote for any 2017 prompt) Nominee #1: @aubriestar Nominee #2: @mycosmicbackyard Nominee #3: @teacup13 Nominee #4: @sadamericanpoet Nominee #5: @snuffyart Nominee #6 (PardyPeople’s Nomination): @katrinnac Voting Link: https://doodle.com/poll/dg4f6c2x2zey2f7d Favorite Photograph Poet (uses photo uploads) Nominee #1: @mysublimejourney Nominee #2: @mindfulpoems Nominee #3: @just-4-thought Nominee #4: @hidden-in-the-roses Nominee #5: @alexofander Nominee #6 (PardyPeople’s Nomination): @rubynoo Voting Link: https://doodle.com/poll/89bnbfkziibqysm8 Favorite Poetry Blog Platform (as a whole) Nominee #1: @wnq-writers Nominee #2: @poetryriot Nominee #3: @theprocast Nominee #4: @inkstay Nominee #5: @writerscreed Nominee #6 (PardyPeople’s Nomination): @teacup13 Voting Link: https://doodle.com/poll/gtmqepn38rv23sdx Favorite Storyteller (short stories) Nominee #1: @unsettlingstories Nominee #2: @fakesurprise Nominee #3: @flannelsandthecoffeebar Nominee #4: @pomegranatepithos Nominee #5: @thelittleshortstories Nominee #6 (PardyPeople’s Nomination): @themissinglenk Voting Link: https://doodle.com/poll/924rrxe97zqtt9xf Favorite New Writer (blog must be less than a year old) Nominee #1: @thatdarnlaura Nominee #2: @in-my-thinking Nominee #3: @oatlandgoodman Nominee #4: @still-adequate Nominee #5: @apieceofskyye Nominee #6 (PardyPeople’s Nomination): @something-like-scripture Voting Link: https://doodle.com/poll/z2c5atcu48e9m6t3 Favorite Writer of 2017  Nominee #1: @mikefrawley Nominee #2: @unsettlingstories Nominee #3: @giulswrites Nominee #4: @teacup13 Nominee #5: @nshirazie Nominee #6 (PardyPeople’s Nomination): @definegodliness Voting Link: https://doodle.com/poll/3ae7yfp5h6sytd6p Remember, there is no official way for me to know if you vote multiple times, so it is allowed. For the same reason you may also vote for yourself. Voting will close on Sunday the 25th. GET YOUR VOTES IN! HURRY! Honorable Mentions: @this-love-exo, @denmysterywoman, @creatingnikki, @smakka–bagms, @poeticcrustation, @writingbykawelwa, @poeticstories, @renaudcr7, @wordsfromthestorm, @boykeats, @stevenluce, @mortalghost, @cruxymox, @pulsing-ink, @thoughtsofirii, @greenish-orange and OF COURSE anyone who has ever taken part in one of my prompts, someone else’s prompts, submitted something or posted their wonderful work to tumblr. We love you all! Sarah PS. Please don’t feel bad if you weren’t nominated! The idea isn’t to exclude anyone, but to help boost community spirits with a little friendly award Pardy.

[alaskaisnothere]

As a kid, I used to think love was when you thought someone was pretty and they let you hold their hand. I would send out the letters to every girl that caught my eye and I would wait anxiously for a reply. I carried that trend into my adult life–pairing myself with any pretty girl that didn’t find me repulsive. So when you asked me when I knew I loved you. I was tempted to say it was when we held hands for the first time and I felt it in my gut, but it was seven months later, a week after I met your family, that double date with your best friend and her loud boyfriend. During one of his many stories, you reached for my hand under the table and smiled at me because you knew how irritated I was getting. I tried to master a smile back at you but my lips turned to concrete. I felt it like I had never in my life: butterflies. All my life I’ve been building walls and towers so high you couldn’t see what was behind; my fears and insecurities. Perhaps that’s why I always looked for battles and challenges, even when there wasn’t any. I always looked for ghosts to fight and demons to shoot so I would keep myself busy. Then, you came along and you made it easy for me. You laughed at all my jokes, especially the terrible ones and made me special, safe. I couldn’t fight this and I didn’t want to because it was the best thing to ever happen to me. I knew instantly that you didn’t want to change that part of me which always looked for the hard path but you would encourage it, standing by my side. So that’s what love is, not the absence of a battle, but fighting together.

A collab between my immensely talented friend @writingbykawelwa & @giulswrites (via giulswrites)

[imperceptiblyslowly]

The best kind of love I can give you is, me: unedited, every broken part of me visible for you to see. The strings that hold me together stretching to keep me whole. I want to be strong for you. Strong enough to show you the maps made of scars and the stories behind each one. I want to be like the rain unafraid to fall when the sun is present. I don’t believe in black and white. And why should we ever have to choose between the rain and the sunshine when we could have both? I want to trust you enough that I can show you a softer side of me without fearing that it will take away from my strength.

writingbykawelwa (via writingbykawelwa)

[wnq-writers]

I am sorry they made you feel like being wrong is a crime. You don’t always have to say you’re sorry, not with me.

Kawelwa, I will let you grow (via wnq-writers)

[pleasehearmedarling-deactivated]

I stop and think about it sometimes, the way that we’re making words powerful enough to speed across oceans just to reach the other’s ears. Because it’s not just our day and age that make it possible. It’s the will that’s put into this, the careful regard that says that I want to know how you are.

@writingbykawelwa; I’m glad we’ve reconnected. 🖤 (via pleasehearmedarling)

[imperceptiblyslowly]

How do you tell someone you barely know that they mean a lot to you without sounding like the type of person to imagine a connection? How can you tell that you aren't?

writingbykawelwa

[teacup13-deactivated20200319]

I can see myself with you. Someday, I can totally see us happy, learning a lot about each other, learning a lot about ourselves. I can see us getting old together, telling stories about how we met until we forget how met and fell in love but it won’t matter because the heart is a muscle and muscles have memories. But I can’t be with you now, I can’t give myself to you when I am not happy about who I am. I can’t let you fall in love with me when I spend most of my days peeling off the parts of myself I don’t like, trying to figure out which version of me I despise less. You don’t deserve that. As amazing as you are, you shouldn’t be the best part of my life. You shouldn’t be the best thing to happen to me. I should be able to create my own happiness before I can attempt to make you happy. and I look for every piece I think I'm  missing in every raindrop that skins your nose, in every stem I bend far enough to break my back into a hug I can return to your smile. every I need you is loosing air for a ground I’ve been bruising. My scars drive these fears into shadows that question my reflection, and though I know I’m more than the definition of anything, I’ll still hold your heart like I have a reason to measure growth. he said you don’t know disaster until you’re the only life in the sky, and you still manage to get tangled anyways - darling, I’ve been spelling love across foreheads I’ve folded into memories. I’m tired of always trying to find my way home; sadness is the corner of the world I belong in, and I’m still forgiving the destruction of what I want in a single breath.

a collab with @writingbykawelwa (via teacup13)

[imperceptiblyslowly]

I imagine it must be easy for you: you are the brightest thing in every room you step into. Good conversation is not something you have spent your life seeking, it is just one of the things that come with being you. So you must be used to this. You must be accustomed to people feeling like they shared a moment with you when in fact, you were just being polite.

writingbykawelwa

[imperceptiblyslowly]

There are days I catch myself smiling, moments I hear myself laughing and I am not so sure it used to feel like this. I am not so sure I am happy.

writingbykawelwa

[imperceptiblyslowly]

He had never been sure he wanted something in his life, the way he was sure he wanted her. He waited by her doorstep, having just knocked. He knew she would be home alone because her aunt works late on weekdays. He has been here to see her many times but it didn’t make him any less nervous when she opened the door. “Can we talk? It’s important.” He asks. She folds her arm against her chest: subconsciously to create a distance between them. He doesn’t understand why she would act this why, “My boyfriend will be here any minute, so please make it quick.” When he left home, he was determined to get his girl; he was tired of being the guy that waited. He didn’t come here to be talked down, he didn’t come to negotiate. He came to tell her he loved her and that he was a fool for watching her all these months. He was a fool for letting someone else show her how special she is.  He came to tell her that he will fight for her and he will win. But now that he is here, looking her in the eye like he has so many times. He notices: how, no matter how many times he has seen her face, there is always something new to be seen. Like a tiny scar he hadn’t noticed before. But more importantly, looking into her eyes, he is defeated. He can tell that she knows why he is here, what he is about to tell her and what he is about to ask her. She doesn’t what him to fight for her. At least, not anymore. Her eyes are begging him to let her go. And so he does. “Forget it, this was a mistake.” As he walks away, he tries to think of the happiness she gave him, he tries to carry it with him but it was never his, to begin with. So leaves it behind, he leaves her and the love he couldn’t keep behind, the hope she gave, the rejection he just endured. He walks away from it all, like his mum did, and like his dad before her.

writingbykawelwa, Some Girls Don’t Want To Be Fought For. (via writingbykawelwa)