Pretentious Poetry And Whatever I Feel Like

[ithurtswhenbudsburst]

Hjärtdansen + snabbrepris 💜🧡💚💙

[ithurtswhenbudsburst]

Förlåt men epadunken var ju underbar? Man blir ju glad och de har kul!

[mjalti]

life goes something like this: you meet the best and the worst of yourself in other people. you come to terms that you are the universe experiencing itself. you get overwhelmed at 3 am being so close to seeing through the veil. you get what you give. and then, the next morning, you do it all over again, all over again, all over again.

[probablyasocialecologist]

“Winter is the only true season of touching. In winters, no matter how efficiently you dress up, a raindrop will find you. Fogs will enshroud you and leave their wetness on your face. Dry, cold air will crack your lips. As you inhale, mist will touch your nostrils and the inside of your throat. You will feel winter’s touch on the backs of your ears. Winter’s physicality reaches everywhere.”

— Nikita Arora, A history of botany and colonialism touched off by a moss bed

[ithurtswhenbudsburst]

A flock of ravens.

One mass,

unnumbered loose parts.

Twisting, gliding

Flipping, angling

Diving, hovering

Landing, settling

Fullest black against muted browns,

greens, grays.

Dancing around me.

Above and to the side.

Minding me

to keep the distance,

but nothing more.

[firstfullmoon]

“Sometimes I think it’s possible to live with anything. That we’re wired to survive-survive-survive, to grip onto the gnarliest thread until life is pried from our bones. Other times I think it’s not possible to live at all. Not at all.”

— Ellena Savage, from “Yellow City,” in Blueberries: Essays Concerning Understanding

[ithurtswhenbudsburst]

I am a thousand pieces

People and places

Bring out endless constellations

Some new, in bright colors

Others are old, painful and comforting

When I am with you, when we meet

My pattern tells me who

you are

And who

I am

Are they different?

[ithurtswhenbudsburst]

Life has been hard

I never realised it was

I see now I fought so hard

I never credited myself for that

A constant struggle, always be hard

I never forgave myself for being human

Enough, no too much, entirely wrong, it should never have been

No. I cannot break the cycle by pedalling backwards

I can do this in a way that allows me to rest

I will forgive myself for being human

Many struggles remain for me still

I will celebrate, then lay down

Life’s ways will persist

I will learn to accept

[ithurtswhenbudsburst]

I was told

I have to endure the failure

because I can’t withstand the preassure.

Cracks with smooth edges

tracing out my life.

I don’t feel that they make me crumble,

they only feel like what makes me.

“I endure” they say

“I do not fail”.

When I try to fix them

they tell me that.

[muppethole-deactivated20240312]

[how2forgive]

this ask polly comment..

[ithurtswhenbudsburst]

I glimpsed happiness,

contentment,

today

Just as fleeting, as relentless

as the sadness and numbness

They are not equal,

They don’t balance each other out

And yet, they are the same

There was also sorrow,

despair and grief

Perhaps, I hesitate, grind my teeth,

one was enabled by the other

I don’t know

I feel

I try

I whisper in the dark

[firstfullmoon]

Talin Tahajian, “Give me a topic” [ID in ALT]

[linguenuvolose]

Karin Boye - Ja visst gör det ont

Ja visst gör det ont när knoppar brister. Varför skulle annars våren tveka? Varför skulle all vår heta längtan bindas i det frusna bitterbleka? Höljet var ju knoppen hela vintern. Vad är det för nytt, som tär och spränger? Ja visst gör det ont när knoppar brister, ont för det som växer och det som stänger.

Ja nog är det svårt när droppar faller. Skälvande av ängslan tungt de hänger, klamrar sig vid kvisten, sväller, glider - tyngden drar dem neråt, hur de klänger. Svårt att vara oviss, rädd och delad, svårt att känna djupet dra och kalla, ändå sitta kvar och bara darra - svårt att vilja stanna och vilja falla.

Då, när det är värst och inget hjälper, Brister som i jubel trädets knoppar. Då, när ingen rädsla längre håller, faller i ett glitter kvistens droppar glömmer att de skrämdes av det nya glömmer att de ängslades för färden - känner en sekund sin största trygghet, vilar i den tillit som skapar världen.

[The poem read by Karin Boye]

[thelovejournals]

If he truly loves you, he will love you when you are an ocean breeze, but also when you are a summer storm. You were not made to be loved in parts, you were meant to be loved as a whole.

Nikita Gill (via thelovejournals)

[beard-and-flannel]

I would rather be what God chose to make me than the most glorious creature that I could think of; for to have been born in God’s thought and then made by God is the dearest, grandest, and most precious thing in all thinking.

C.S. Lewis (via beard-and-flannel)

[relatablepoetryandquotes]

via @extramadness