grace

poet, writer, social creative / INFP i work in advertising

[lefthandpoet]

I was holding rotten fruit And had to put it down somewhere - You were all open palms, Juice dripping down my sleeve - We washed sorrow off my hands with the coldest water. You never asked but please know this - The heart of my longing Looks nothing like you.

Grace O'Brien, MY HEART IS A PIECE OF ROTTEN FRUIT.

[lefthandpoet]

You will pull it apart wondering, Trying to uproot a reason for it's emerald existence. You will question why a card with a question mark, Still looks like enough to you. You will meander the kaleidoscope garden of your heart, Resting with your back against the doorway to your pain. Of everything you no longer let live inside you. You will lay down the welcome mat of your mind, To embrace a new thought, A new breath, We have no more growing left to do together. All the same, You will want him to have changed so much, That you make a main course out of his canapé apology. A soup-kitchen meal for someone starving. You will feel the warmth of hunger, Burn through aching bones And you will hold out your hands and beg - for just a little bit more.

Grace O’Brien, “WHEN YOUR ABUSER GIVES YOU A PLANT FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY”.

[syrupbrat]

r there any literary magazines u kno of that i could submit poetry/short stories 2??

LUNA LUNA

quee/r

pouch

doll hospital

hoax

crab fat

lavender

quaint

bloom

blue monday

[frequents]

[soteeoh]

[peelsofpoetry]

Excuses For Why We Failed At Love by Warsan Shire I’m lonely so I do lonely things Loving you was like going to war; I never came back the same. You hate women, just like your father and his father, so it runs in your blood. I was wandering the derelict car park of your heart looking for a ride home. You’re a ghost town I’m too patriotic to leave. I stay because you’re the beginning of the dream I want to remember. I didn’t call him back because he likes his girls voiceless. It’s not that he wants to be a liar; it’s just that he doesn’t know the truth. I couldn’t love you, you were a small war. We covered the smell of loss with jokes. I didn’t want to fail at love like our parents. You made the nomad in me build a house and stay. I’m not a dog. We were trying to prove our blood wrong. I was still lonely so I did even lonelier things. Yes, I’m insecure, but so was my mother and her mother. No, he loves me he just makes me cry a lot. He knows all of my secrets and still wants to kiss me. You were too cruel to love for a long time. It just didn’t work out. My dad walked out one afternoon and never came back. I can’t sleep because I can still taste him in my mouth. I cut him out at the root, he was my favorite tree, rotting, threatening the foundations of my home. The women in my family die waiting. Because I didn’t want to die waiting for you. I had to leave, I felt lonely when he held me. You’re the song I rewind until I know all the words and I feel sick. He sent me a text that said “I love you so bad.” His heart wasn’t as beautiful as his smile We emotionally manipulated one another until we thought it was love. Forgive me, I was lonely so I chose you. I’m a lover without a lover. I’m lovely and lonely. I belong deeply to myself .

[lefthandpoet]

hey guys

sorry I haven't posted in ages! I have been so busy, I have some stuff I've been working on though, so might post that shortly... x

[lefthandpoet]

Do you remember the night we stayed up swapping definitions of love like kids with trading cards? I told you I thought love was danger - an adventure. A surprise that knocked the wind out of you and left you gasping. Love was pouring yourself out for someone else’s happiness. It was giving them the towel while you're standing there dripping. You told me I was wrong. That love - real love - was wanting to know everything about someone. It was drinking their words like water, no matter the will of the tide. You didn’t notice, I was hanging on to every word.

Grace O'Brien,  EARTH DEFINING LOVE

[girlsingreenfields]

The Secret Garden. Shin Hyun Ji photographed by Kim Hee June for Elle Korea February 2017.

[emontoufanian]

[mayahan]

Ink Paintings By Endre Penovac

[serious]

note to self

[lefthandpoet]

I ask about your wedding to watch you talk. To examine the muscles in your jaw as they move with excitement. You say her name so carefully. Like passing an heirloom you’re scared I’ll drop. You're forgetting you’re the one who dropped it last. You're forgetting I’m still picking shards out of my soles. I ask you about your wedding to hear your accent. I shudder when you say two months. Two months. Like the second hand hasn’t halted. Like I haven’t torn up every calendar. I mark the day in mine as ‘The Day I Lose You’. Time passes like a pulse. Like blood dripping from a wound. I ask you about your wedding because I can’t stop the words from leaving my lips. I’m testing you, you know it. You’re fiddling, nervous. You won’t look at me. Half smile and look away, I know it. You slip me details like they’re table condiments, always so casual in the way you break me. It sounds beautiful, I say the words. I don’t recognise my voice while I’m saying them. I ask you about your wedding so I can write about it later. It’s some fucked up kind of poet masochism. Writing metaphors about the way you didn’t want me. I imagine you happy when I write about it. You will be, right? I think you will be. I hope she wears the most beautiful dress.

Grace O’Brien, Two Months

[ridein2thesun]

tame impala for urban outfitters

[nevver]

Everybody’s got a thing

[franki-e-deactivated20170214]

[lefthandpoet]

FOR BOYS WITH CAR CRASH HEARTS

you’re always pulling twisted bodies from a car crash and i want to hold you between two hands and scream - it doesn’t have to be like this. it doesn’t have to be so bloody.