tea with grief

[missnarcissistsworld]

In the depths of my being, a tempest roars, Rage, an inferno that consumes and soars. A storm of emotions, turbulent and wild, Unleashing fury, an untamed child.

With fiery eyes and a heart ablaze, Rage courses through me, in myriad ways. It's the thunderous crackle in my voice, The searing passion, my soul's own choice.

A symphony of anger, notes piercing the air, Rage, a primal force that I dare not spare. It fuels my spirit, ignites my will, A burning energy I cannot still.

In the chaos of rage, I seek clarity, To rise above the fury, with integrity. To temper the flames, find balance within, And let rage be a catalyst, not just a din.

[missnarcissistsworld]

I degrade myself when I write

I become the monster I'm not

In my words I'm the villain I aspire to be.

[missnarcissistsworld]

<3

[missnarcissistsworld]

[missnarcissistsworld]

"You remember too much,"

my mother said to me recently.

"Why hold onto all that?"

And I said,

"Where can I put it down?"

She said,

"When you see these horrible images why do you stay with them? Why keep watching? Why not go away?"

I was amazed.

"Go away where?" I said.

- Anne carson, from "The Glass Eassy"

[llovelymoonn]

on grief

kyra wilder john wick is so tired \\ jamie anderson \\ jandy nelson the sky is everywhere \\ okechukwu nzelu here again now \\ nadia mota grief poem #4, in traffic \\ victoria hannan marshmallow

kofi

[missnarcissistsworld]

[missnarcissistsworld]

I have this incessant urge,

To eradicate just after the act of creation.

To become the ruination after being ruined.

To bathe in immorality and to wear a cologne of sins.

To speak a language so foul and to hear only of cruelty.

To extract blood and dye it black.

To kill, to torture and to make them quiver.

To make my name a hideous word.

To become a devil who's preached.

I have this incessant desire,

To be made a taboo God.

[missnarcissistsworld]

In the realm of love, where hearts collide, A tale of passion, where emotions reside, I'll paint a poem, with words so absurd, "I love you," ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

[missnarcissistsworld]

Is there another life? Shall I awake and find all this a dream? There must be, we cannot be created for this sort of suffering.

- John Keats

[missnarcissistsworld]

To live for the hope of it all.

- Taylor swift.

[latibule-e-deactivated20231012]

— Louise Glück, from “Timor Mortis.”

[somedaybyallmeans]

If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.

— Jane Austen

[missnarcissistsworld]

- Sue Zhao

[missnarcissistsworld]

I want to cry until all the pain situated inside of me is extracted out with every single drop of tear that comes out my eyes .

I want to scream until every single person can hear the agony in my voice.

I want to break everything that comes in my sight until everything matches the brokenness of my heart.

I want to destroy everything, everyone and myself until the pain stops .

[missnarcissistsworld]

I is what I call filth-

My blood is muddy,

My heart is black,

My mind is rotten,

My emotions are broken,

My tears are ink,

My words are poison,

My looks screams evil,

My eyes black sea,

My hair is merely weeds,

My nails are blade,

My skin is steel,

And yet you choose to love me still.

[missnarcissistsworld]

But I've altered it, I've dyed it in my favorite colour, it's still a little big but it's warm and comfortable.

I know it once belonged to my father but I've made it my own, and I'll keep it on my body until my body wilts to death.

Is it bad that it's my favorite piece of clothing?

[perfeqt]

“It was good for a while, being empty. I didn’t hurt anymore. But as time went on, it was like I could hear myself from far away, begging for permission to come back.”

— Myra McEntire

[missnarcissistsworld]

How do I explain I've this silence inside me which is not peace.

I've this stillness inside me that's too deep.

I'm looking for things that aren't supposed to be here.

Myself is what I fear.