out of paper, out of time

a poet for all seasons

[iwritealotandidontsleep]

heeyyyyy

so i want to publish these poems and books and stuff one day, but i do NOT want my identity to be revealed. these poems will be up for a long time, until they’re published. I turned off reblogs so i can delete these without any issue of getting found. PLEASE PLEASE do not take screenshots or copy my work, this is simply where i want to get feedback and interact with my friends.

if and when these poems get deleted, it’s because they’ll be printed out somewhere else. please do not try to salvage them or take any recordings. I really don’t want my tumblr to get leaked as a professional author :(( thank you smmm

intro post

[iwritealotandidontsleep]

“I feel like you’re too nice to me when I don’t give anything in return.”

“That’s like asking someone for a dollar cause you held the door open for them. I don’t need anything if I love you. I have enough.”

[iwritealotandidontsleep]

I am in the car, next to a beautiful boy. It is raining and his blood is staining my father’s brand new cushioned seats. How will I explain to him the agony I was in to steal and sneak and chase after someone who did not want to be saved? How will I beg that father, please give me grace, for I love and care and am in pain. Over a beautiful boy with an open wound. The only perceivable weight on me is my heart and a head on my shoulder, a wet and limp pile of curls. My freshly painted, manicured nails dig into his scalp like there is anything left of him to hold on to. I want to scream, you’re not dead yet. You can move your hands and can bleed. Bleeding is a sign of life, and if it be the only sign left, I will take it to heart. I bite my tongue and swallow my only words, which would be a pure, pathetic plea to give me your hand and let me have you as you are, empty and hollow and bitter. Let me lap up your bloody lips. It is silent for a minute, the rain persisting and pounding. I’m pushing down everything I have felt, for there is enough to be said in silence, in a car, with a beautiful boy who does not love me.

[iwritealotandidontsleep]

(March 10, 2026)

Brian told me to shut up and keep swimming.

Salt goes up my nose and into my brain

And bubbles float to the surface

And nothing is ever over.

You parked outside of a liquor store in your dad’s beat-up Jeep Wrangler.

My head is light and my fingers float somewhere away.

Someone laughs and tells me

“Remember. Enjoy it. Don’t take it for granted.”

I threw up on someone’s dress shoes either in October or a couple minutes ago

It’s still drying on my chest where I heave and sob

Because I forgot about Ms. Smith’s chemistry quiz the next day.

Hold me by my memory and let me bleed out until I can enjoy today.

Jacob Todd from elementary got expelled

For pointing the barrel at his girlfriend’s head and she got a tissue.

Hold my hand while I bash my head to try and dig a hole and live in it.

Turn to the side in that mirror, punch that pervert, kill me slowly.

Softly.

Kindly.

By telling me “there is still time.”

[iwritealotandidontsleep]

Title of my blog “out of paper, out of time” comes from a letter my best friend wrote me.

I’m making a collection of them soon and will be posting some of my favorite lines, some made by me, and paraphrasing a bit!

[iwritealotandidontsleep]

POOL (FULL)

(February 14, 2026)

I don’t like it when you hold your breath.

Like you have so much time to waste.

Though I suppose we all do our best,

You outdo yourself with decisions and choices

No one sober makes.

I only remember this because I kept my eyes open

Even when you told me they were safer closed.

I think you’ve fallen asleep with the lights on

And a coat on.

Your sweat is cold and your veins are deep.

Deeper than I think your push can go.

I’ve been told it’s a warm hug, but under the down I doubt it’s

Easy to swim, I worry you’ll drown.

I checked your pulse, I checked it twice.

I dragged you up, splashed your face and watched it redden.

Steam was rising and your breathing deadened.

I don’t know what it’s like to drown in a hug so deep

But I know the deep end can be pretty steep.

When the heat dries you up and has you

Shriveled like a baby of 8 months,

I’ll splash water to keep you down.

I can hear your voice from under the water asking for hotter water,

Plowing your head into the faucet,

I think it’s enough.

I think you crawled into me and said “I had too much”.

It burned me red and maybe bled me dry.

And I can’t get enough of it.

Dry me out, bleed me out, suck me and cut me and drain me.

When I was 6, I took it upon myself to keep the bricks of the

Sun-dried pool alive.

I never missed one, coming back with handfuls of water.

I’m splashing you with handfuls of water, tears are in my eyes.

It’s so hot it’s cold, and maybe your veins are so

Alive that that’s why your pulse has died.

I think you limped your way to the floor and

I think I tried some more,

Before I turned the water cold.

[iwritealotandidontsleep]

ODDITIES

(February 8, 2026)

It is February.

Dos mil veinte seis.

A brown man wore bulletproof

Men got angry again.

It is so so cold

And the files are a politician role call

And my face must be lost on his desk

Before the accident.

My cheekbones are purple

And my elbows jut

And my eyes are sunk

And a pimple i popped leaked onto my nice sleep shirt

Like the dead mouse in the cellar leaks his bits.

He got a pair of 501s when he usually gets 505s

And i thought my father was god.

Page (insert when not dreaming

of lands far beyond and

comprehensions of the mark of death

being the beginning of life).

[iwritealotandidontsleep]

I just wrote some bullshit!!!!

[iwritealotandidontsleep]

Parallel Lines

(January 22, 2026)

We sat in the dim, orange glow of

Grandpa’s old leather lamp.

We talked about John Lennon, JFK, and John Steinback.

And why all the memorable men are named “John”.

It’s a proper, stationary name, you say.

I disagree.

I argue about the patriarchy and we yell about money.

Our plaque is shining in the TV’s glow.

We’ll throw fits about who’s taller and whose

Dad makes the more superior pasta.

And I’ll always win, and I’ll always wish you did.

We’ve been here a million times before.

Your father will always drink and mine will always love.

Your mother will take you home early, and

Mine will offer yours a nice, hot cup of tea,

And because they are from dichotomous backgrounds,

She’ll say “ügüi”, and everything ends at that.

We will greet and speak and part a million times,

And times will always yet never change.

Your hair is red in the summer and purple

By the time the snow falls.

I have worn these shoes since elementary.

Our stories will always end like this.

[iwritealotandidontsleep]

YOUR MOUTH IS DIRTY

(january 22, 2025)

Maybe you were born hungry

And deeply aching.

There is a whole in your chest

Where your mother seldom fed.

You feed it, thinking the pain

Is just the side effects of happiness.

It is a cavity, eating in your side.

It grows how you think your heart would,

Come the day she rises and tells you

“I am proud.”

That gaping hole cracks your ribs,

Blackens your teeth,

Brittles your bones.

But you know, I know,

She knows,

Love is not a disease.

Love is clean.

Her mouth is not clean.

[iwritealotandidontsleep]

YOUR WRITING IS GORGEOUS WHAT AHHHHHH IM OBSESSED OMGGEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHHEHEHE

YAYAYAYAY HII SOF! Thank you so much! :)

[sehyn]

my mom says she’s not a hugger. but when i put my arms around her on a gloomy day or after bad news she’s the last to let go. my dad says he doesn’t want gifts on his birthday, but i see the way his face light up when i get him a card with a nice message and a box full of chocolate anyway. he’s just a kid inside, still. it makes him giddy. my brother never says i love you. but when i tell him “i just need to finish the dishes before i vacuum!” he wordlessly goes to vacuum the entire house before i can, and if he sees me struggle with a wrapper or a jar or a bottle he mutters ‘c’mere’ and opens it for me without even sparing me a glance. the thing is, people love you quietly, and you love them quietly, and the air is buzzing with tiny but grand gestures & once you look for them, you find them everywhere. i think that’s really beautiful.

[iwritealotandidontsleep]

december 10, 2025

Whenever I miss you a little extra, I like to put my ear up to my pillow. Like you hear the ocean through a seashell, I hear you. I hear a little hum and I can smell your dad’s cologne and I can stretch my fingertips and brush your hair. You’re at the bottom of the ocean, and I can hear it. You’re voice bubbles and your eyes twinkle and I keep diving but the water is made of stone. I’m pushing and forcing and trying to get to you, but I’ve decided drowning gets me no closer. I float.

[iwritealotandidontsleep]

Your writing is so beautiful and so good aaaaah

I LOVE IT SMMM

thank you so much this means a lot to meee :)

MWAH

[iwritealotandidontsleep]

I was once a body with a soul and a mind and a consciousness btw

[iwritealotandidontsleep]

OH MY DAYS EVERYONE GO HOME. HE LIKED MY POST. HE --

@the-bolter-tom I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS AHHHH

[iwritealotandidontsleep]

rainy blues

(November 10, 2025)

It was a rainy lightnin’ night

Yes, the night my love left me

It was a rainy lightnin’ night

Oh, the night my love left me

As I walked them slippery stairs

Even the moon let me be

Oh, I dragged my muddy shoes

Through the quiet halls

Yes, I dragged my muddy shoes

Through the quiet halls

Can’t tell you how bad you start to feel

When your love stops returning calls

Oh, I laid down and turned off the lights

Pulled those sheets right over ma head

Oh, I laid down and turned off the lights

Pulled those sheet right over ma head

Nothin’ good happens after midnight

No nothin’ good happens on rainy lightnin’ nights