Hopeoetic

Sentimental. Odd.

[poetsbloom]

How is it possible to be killed by your mind, every single night?

[itsoblivioushope]

Will I still be afraid? For how long?

[itsoblivioushope]

Would we be still running from the horrors of our past?

[itsoblivioushope]

Secluded

I live in my own dark world

in the abyss

in the trench.

I sometimes emerge from the surface,

watch the stars twinkling at night,

wait for the sun to rise

but there's always a storm that seems so hard to evade

it leads me back to my obscured realm.

[itsoblivioushope]

Love?

I never wanted to let go of love

but love already decided

Love wants to untangle himself

from me

Love wants to wander

Love is seeking another form of love

Love lied to me

Love broke what he mended before

Love? Why?

[itsoblivioushope]

My Dwelling

I've been roaming around,

looking for a place to rest my head on

and I got lost in a secluded area

devoid of what makes the city animated at night

I was terrified

but

I never stopped walking until

I felt the sand beneath my feet,

the cold breeze touching my cheek,

I heard the splash of waves not far away

and little did I know

that I was already by the sea.

I let myself wander through the dusk,

letting the wind guide me to what seems like

a lone lighthouse,

I saw a flicker of light.

I was enthralled and ran towards it,

I made my way to the entrance

and found you.

You were reaching out your hand to me

beckoning me to come inside.

Your eyes glistened

with tears of blissfulness

then you held me in a warm embrace,

it was full of reassurance

it made me forget my fears

it was full of love.

You let me rest on your dwelling

and it was then that I found my solace and my refuge.

[itsoblivioushope]

Memorabilia

I unwittingly called him love

he was not love

love has died years ago

love has been buried for so long

and I did not mean to unearth

an old casket of pain and pleasure

I did not mean to think of love

of him snaking his arms around my waist,

of our entwined fingers

of our memories for years

A lone tear fell down my cheek

for the love I remembered years ago.

[itsoblivioushope]

Into the pit

In the love pit I fell

it was like hell

and you could never tell

how I was so unwell

[meanwhilepoetry]

[meanwhilepoetry]

Something people crying constantly about how Persephone was raped and kidnapped (also she was never raped by Hades, not even in Hesiod’s Theogyny) need to realise is that all women’s/Goddesses stories used to be written by male poets from a misogynistic time. They made all these incredibly powerful women into victims/one dimensional beings who were consistently punished if they ever showed an iota of autonomy. When women retell these stories, they WILL give these women their autonomy back, unvictimise them and allow them multiple facets. If you don’t know how retellings work, then please go and read Madeline Miller’s Circe, Pat Barker’s Silence of the Girls. Also educate yourself on how Kore became Persephone and understand that there are versions of her story in existence that talk about her wandering into the Underworld on her own. Also, this is MYTHOLOGY, not HISTORY. Learn the difference before you go guns blazing into someone’s retelling. We are going to be seeing a lot more retellings from now on from women and I for one couldn’t not be HAPPIER. It’s high time women tell women’s stories.

[wnq-writers]

She was stuck.

Stuck and unable to move, paralyzed in the same position over and over again.

Unable to breathe, unable to think and unable to feel.

Numb from all the pain and the sadness, her heart gave out refusing to feel anymore.

Her lungs struggled for air, yet it only seemed to fill up with water as she drowned.

Drowning in her own ocean of nightmares, she couldn’t find a single life boat.

She was on her own.

She’d always been the one to help people stay afloat, letting herself sink deeper in the water.

She was sinking in her own self destructive thoughts, her imperfections and flaws as they kept clawing at her mind.

Making themselves known and present in every mirror, every picture, she deemed herself as the ugliest creature of all.

She was used to drowning by now, always managing to rise somehow. Yet this time it was different.

The water was deeper, darker, colder.

She had weights tying her down, bringing her closer to the bottom, all the way down to what she feared the most.

Her own hell.

Mirna Nabulsi @theathazagoraphobicgirl

[itsoblivioushope]

💔

[itsoblivioushope]

Check out @tonyangtsong’s Tweet: https://twitter.com/tonyangtsong/status/1111856181419474945?s=09

His eyes may wander

but his heart never does.

[thegirlwhocrieswolf]

“She imagines him imagining her. This is her salvation.”

— Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin (via wordsnquotes)

[wnq-writers]

“There are many different kinds of happiness. I want to be so awfully happy that I never need to write poetry again.”

— MJL

[itsoblivioushope]

Hello my furry friend

I wish I could still brush your furry head

I wish I could hug you like there’s no more tomorrow

I wish I could touch your paws and tickle your stomach until you relax

I wish I could turn back time and spoil you with everything and anything you like.

And I wish I could see you now wagging your tail and running towards me.

I just can’t stop looking at the wooden bed you used to lie (which is your favorite and comfiest place) , at the blanket and the towel we used to cover your body after we bathe you

I cannot stop looking at the place where mum buried you

I wish I could see you at the end of the rainbow where wonderland is found. I love you my Batty doggo ❤️ 😢☹️

[luvyourbookstack]

[itsoblivioushope]

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[grapefruitmimosa]

i can’t believe i used to think people my age were adults

[itsoblivioushope]

We'll never see eye to eye even to the littlest things.