March Diaries

[bloodybellycomb]

Someone today will read Shakespeare’s hamlet and say omg he’s just like me fr. Another person will read moby dick and proclaim Ishmael as an adhd king.

A person grieving for their recently deceased lover reads the iliad and they watch as Achilles rages and rages and god how righteous anger fueld by love is so devastating that it’s ramifications still affect the world several thousand years later.

We might one day settle down and read the epic of gilgamesh and watch as a king has to accept the death of the person he loved the most. One of the very first stories ever written and it was about coping with death, and how to grieve.

We don’t read classics because they’re old, we read them because they remind us that we are never alone. That a character created over 500 years ago struggled with the exact same problems we all still have today. That even a king from centuries past had to deal with death just like me. That’s what makes stories so powerful–they prove to us that we are never truly alone in what we are feeling.

[thoughtkick]

“She doesn’t say “I love you” like a normal person. Instead, She’ll laugh, shake her head, give you a little smile, and say, “You’re an idiot.” If she tells you you’re an idiot, you’re a lucky man.”

— Unknown

[marchdiaries]

And still cheat !

[abitmorewhimsical]

Sometimes I mistype—

porn instead of poem.

Words so far apart in meaning,

yet close enough to touch.

When I let you read what I wrote

in moments when emotion drowned me,

I feel naked.

Exposed in a way clothes could never undo.

The words look beautiful—

in my handwriting,

in my phone notes,

in the journal you gave me.

But the story behind them

can send shivers down your spine.

How did a woman like me

get hurt enough to understand poetry?

you wonder.

These lines tell you

how the ones I loved broke me,

and how I learned to carry

what they left behind.

Porn shows sex as something pretty,

something meant to make you want.

But the reality of its making

is often cruel, unsettling.

Do you feel a rush when you read my words?

Do your cheeks flush

when you feel seen—

only to realize

what I had to survive

to write like this?

Only someone sensual

understands sex.

Only someone willing to feel

understands what these lines mean

[marchdiaries]

To

My dearest,

This is just the second one, and I'm already thinking about giving up. I don't know what to write about for the very first time. There are so many things about you to mention: the way you smile, the way you talk, the way your face lights up when the conversation is about my perceptions of you, or the way you blush when I flirt while blaming my past with these sweet words. Oh, there's so much! The way you frown when I mention cigarettes, or the way you get mad when some random girl talks to me, or the way I annoy you—there's no end! Or, should I write about the way you crossed each boundary out of emotions, yet I stayed? Or the way you believed someone random over what we built? Or the way you told me I broke my promises that I made—but what difference did you make?

Don't worry, I won't give up on these letters this easily.

From

Someone you used to know

[marchdiaries]

To my dearest,

I write to you in the quiet of love,

Even after all this time, I’m still numb.

I hold you dear,

Like the olive branch with the dove.

The world was cruel,

And so was my love, I wish to tell you,

It was never a bluff.

I never betrayed you, despite the rumors,

My love was never fake—so don’t dream up.

As Your smile lit up my skies,

While the world struggled to keep up.

I hate how you lost the trust that we built up,

Yet I was never the manipulator.

They fed you lies, hidden in sighs,

Is this the reason I’m still high?

I still observe, though I don’t know why—

Maybe because I remember the way you smiled,

Ahhh Was that the reason I fell in love?

I still write to you in the quiet of love,

-Someone you no longer know.

[changehorizons]

you and I are stars and we burn brightly among ourselves, two lonely stars in a whole galaxy of stars speckling the night sky

our love fuels our brightness keeps us alive amid all those burnt out before us

a shooting star reminds us to wish for better days our light grows dimmer and I drift away from you no matter how much your love keeps glowing, no matter how long your glow keeps us alive

my star is spiraling, twirling around and around how could you love me? all the other stars shine just as brightly as I do they can fuel your life just as good as I do

the other stars are prettier too my light is too dim to fulfill what you need to survive yet you stay, knowing that our certain doom is awaiting and that our love is burnt out and fading

so my star drifts farther and farther away knowing that your star is so attached to mine that it will follow me into the depths of space it doesn't matter to your star where mine goes nothing I do can scare your star off or push your star away

your star keeps my star alive I notice your light grows dim, but you do not care your star loves my star and that love fuels our light and lights the dark and stops the spiraling and twirling around and around and reminds me we are two lonely stars who love each other nothing can take away our light not even me

[tommiemommy-deactivated20251120]

Sharing wired earphone is a lost art.

[ihateyouvishal]

i think about this a lot.

[marchdiaries]

Forever is a concept often idealised in art !

[oditorie]

[echoesofdyingstars]

Arborization

It started in his arm—

a crawling,

as if something alive was moving beneath the skin.

But it wasn’t snakes.

It was veins stiffening,

fibers splitting into wood.

Days passed.

Every gesture a fracture.

His heart creaked against itself.

He understood the source.

He had chosen a girl

he could never touch.

He filled notebooks with her,

words spilling like toxins

he hoped might undo the change.

But language failed.

The cure was unthinkable:

to empty her chest

and take back what once was his.

Not love, not devotion—

just blood.

When he reached for it,

she did not resist.

She opened herself,

offered everything,

believing it would save him.

It did.

He lived.

She disappeared.

And his body carried both—

wood and blood,

the wound and the cure.

-I wrote this for a man I love

and cannot release.

[marchdiaries]

“Painted Flowers”

I told her, I’ll paint you flowers —

because they won’t die.

I told her, I’ll respect your storms

through thick and thin, always.

I told her, I’ll never lie

until my flowers do die.

But who knew they were already dead?

So was her part in this folklore.

Who knew I was the only one

fighting the battles —

long alone

through the long winters.

[marchdiaries]

I’ve seen her fall asleep

Admired everything over and beneath

From the tulips

To the confused face she made beneath

That warm light

To shake off the night

I’ve seen her fall asleep

[marchdiaries]

If only you saw yourself through my eyes,

Your gaze captivates, a spark in the night.

Your eyes, like stars, shine bright and wide,

Your lips, a gentle smile, my heart's pride.

Your laughter echoes, a melodic sound,

Your touch, a whisper, sets my soul around.

It was always you; I never saw past,

Maybe that made you think I didn't see at last.

But it was always you, from the very start to the end,

Every moment with you, my heart contends.

The way you smile, the way you sway,

Forever with you, I'd gladly stay.

[marchdiaries]

She was right, I'll come back stronger than before,

Sharper than before. I'll return with promises galore,

More love, more stability, the same dreams in store.

But I'll come back, my heart still longing for more,

For you were right, and I'll return to adore.

[thepersonalquotes]

[nsfa-poetry]

Is he hot?

… or did he feed me for free? Is he hot … or is he over 6’0? Is he hot … or does he remind me of bo burnham? Is he hot … or is he polite to people who work in customer service? Is he hot … or does he let me scream one direction songs at the top of my lungs Is he hot … or is he good at communicating? Is he hot … or is everyone i know getting engaged? Is he hot … or does he have the same name as a member of 5 seconds of summer? Is he hot … or is he taking me out on a proper date? Is he hot … or is he okay with letting me talk during movies? Is he hot … or does he like all my tweets because he genuinely finds them funny? Is he hot … or does he have a scorpio venus? Is he hot … or is he emotionally unavailable You know … just my type?

[marchdiaries]

He, too , was left with only shattered schemes