𝓜𝓼. 𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓮 @missmisanthrope - Tumblr Blog

intro post!!(≧∇≦)/

☆20

☆ I share snippets of my poetry and prose with web weaves

☆ I write too much abt grief, hope, dreams, and ofc the sea

☆ obsessed with trees, stars, constellations and night strolls

☆ chronic music listener

☆ the typed part in my posts is original and written by me. you can find them under #miss misanthrope.

#miss misanthrope #intro post #intro moodboard #introduction #moodboard #me core

on love (by a hopeless romantic)

I've always wondered what being loved back feels like; what being accepted for who I am feels like. I remember watching romcoms and wishing that love would come my way. The kind that makes you feel all giddy and nervous. But I've come to realize that's not actually love. When love comes around, it should feel more…comfortable. You don't have to worry about the way you look, what your hair is like. Love should still like you when you are messy. Love does not worry about the way you look or if your hair is all disheveled. Love doesn't make fun of your insecurities. Love stays. Love still stays. It doesn't judge you. Love keeps your unravelled parts safe in a box like a treasure. Love is about learning, discovering parts of each other. it's not just about talking and texting each other 24/7. it is about being there when you are needed the most. it's not just about talking; it's about the communication. it's about the conversations.

I want the kind of love that notices the change in your tone and asks what happened. love that takes one look at you and understands what's happening inside your head. love that notices your silence. love that understands why you get difficult sometimes. love that doesn't shout back. love that remembers how you like your coffee and what flavour of ice cream you like the most. love that remembers what song have you most listened to. love that remembers why that movie or book is your favourite. love that remembers you don't like to be alone. love that listens to your chatter on topics in which they aren't even interested in but they like that sparkle in your eyes when you talk about something you're obsessed with. love that checks out your recommendations and tells you what they thought about it. love that is considerate of you. love that reaches out even when you pull away. love that doesn't take your love for granted. love that doesn't break the walls around you but learns to accept what's inside. love that doesn't ignore your inner child. love that sees your efforts. love that sees the sadness you've been hiding under the weight of “grown up”.

being a hopeless romantic is being lost in search of love that was never there. it's like im trying to catch smoke and my fist comes back empty. it is yearning for love that I may never receive.love does not happen at first sight. it grows over time. if someone asks me what love is i wouldn't be able to answer. like sky we see has stars and the sun and the moon. in the same manner, love comes with grief, in yearning, in being hurt, the sadness and longing. cause explaining what love is like being told to separate the sky from the stars, the sun and the moon. love, turns out, is much more than we think. more complex. and messy. not just the good parts but bad parts too. love is not just one emotion or a feeling, it is a unique blend of sentiments that unite in one word we call “love”.

—𝓜𝓼. 𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓮

#on love #miss misanthrope #writeblr #prose poetry #my writing #spilled thoughts #thought dump #poetry #prose

metamorphesque

The Swan, Mary Oliver

literaryvein

L. V., writing as you sleep

it's December and somehow my thoughts keep going back to you. like an old song i used to play on repeat; like a nostalgic taste on my tongue;like a worn out sweater I'm gonna wear again for the 10th winter in a row; like a book i keep that's coming apart just because it has that old book scent that reminds me of you; like the winter had never gone and stayed within a part of me saying you're not gone yet, even though I know you have. my heart grieves for you but in my mind you're still alive. there is always a war going on inside, a battle cry. I don't know who to believe, whose side to take. are you alive or are we just friends who don't see each other anymore? are you dead or are we just two ghosts? maybe it's just the December.