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discovering and creating me daisy | she/her | 19 | aspiring desi med student sideblog: @mindheartandbones

[metamorphesque]

poems to read while having breakfast at the heartbreak hotel

I know I am but summer to your heart (Sonnet XXVII) by Edna St. Vincent Millay

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why (Sonnet XLIII) by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Time does not bring relief (Sonnet II) by Edna St. Vincent Millay 

I Am Not Yours by Sara Teasdale

[you fit into me] by Margaret Atwood

You by Carol Ann Duffy

Be Near Me by Faiz Ahmed Faiz

Blessed be the spectacle by Lev St. Valentine

You Are Tired (I Think) by E.E. Cummings

Hope you're well. Please don't read this by Lev St. Valentine

To Say Dark Things by Ingeborg Bachmann

Lilichka by Vladimir Mayakovski

Love and Hate by Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal

Sanctuary by Jean Valentine

the winter sun says fight by Peter Gizzi

The More Loving One by W. H. Auden

A Primer For The Small Weird Loves by Richard Siken

Dirty Valentine by Richard Siken

Morning by Frank O Hara

We Don't Know How To Say Goodbye by Anna Akhmatova

You'll Live, But I'll Not… by Anna Akhmatova

from “An Attempt at Jealousy” by Marina Tsvetaeva

The Last Toast by Anna Akhmatova

In Dream by Anna Akhmatova

Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath

Talking In Bed by Philip Larkin

He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven by W.B. Yeats

La Belle Dame Sans Merci by John Keats

[dragonsblowingoutbirthdaycandles]

your life is not an optimization problem

[dragonsblowingoutbirthdaycandles]

as in you'll never achieve the perfect daily routine, sleep schedule, coping mechanisms, mannerisms, fashion sense etc. even after years and years of healing and improvement and self-discovery. you will never be so good at life that you manage to utilize every waking moment. its great to be productive and all but sometimes you'll suck ass. sometimes you'll take eight hours to be done with a twenty minute job. you'll prioritize the wrong thing. you'll sleep for 12 hrs just to avoid being awake. you'll relapse. and you'll relapse again. you'll forget to turn in the assignment. you'll order too little food. life is far too large and complex for you to even experience it completely, much less try to make sense of and control it. you can't. please give up on that and be at peace with the hours you lose. they are not separate from your life.

[quillnote]

source.com

[434am-deactivated20250303]

2:40:12 | 1:12:24

[klefable]

not to sound bitter but i hope hurting me haunts you for years

[poetryofmanya]

Charlotte Green, 'You say you do not want a boyfriend, but you know that's not true.'

[the-viola-urge-to-be-cesario]

Are you okay? No, I don't have a found family kinda friend group like they show in books and tv.

[elizabethsinclair]

- 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚑 𝚜.

check out more: https://www.instagram.com/loosethorns?igsh=bmlneWV6YWk2eXJm

[fromdarzaitoleeza]

Richard Siken, Crush/Lora Mathis, If There's A Way Out I'll Take It

[fromdarzaitoleeza]

{Quote by Chris Mc geown}

[kosmogrl]

[thegirlintheplaidskirt]

but on a tuesday in april, when the sun finally comes out and it feels like it only showed it’s face to warm my soul, i can’t help but get distracted from the way i spent the night before thinking about the the shop in the corner of the strip mall back home that closed down while i was here. (it wasn’t my favourite, not at all, but i always made eye contact with the greying cashier on my way out. i couldn’t shake the consternation from the idea that i would never see her again.) and maybe that’s just what my life will be from now on. while i’m chasing after pinker sunsets and grandiose skylines, haze will settle on everything i leave behind. my evenings alone will be filled with longing, like something bittersweet, something always missing. and then, when the sun comes out and the breeze is just perfectly gentle, i will temporarily be drained of the guilt from the forsaken people and places. i will instead be filled with summer, with daisies, with poetry that is not melancholy.

- my parents are growing old without me, my brother wore a tuxedo to prom and i can’t pinpoint when he started towering over me. my town doesn’t feel like home anymore. my house doesn’t feel like home anymore.

[tolerateit]

i love the tortured poets apartment!

[mortalityplays]

one of the most important things, perhaps the most important thing I have learned in my life is that nice people can fuck each other up in monstrous ways. people can be bone deep kind and loving and self reflective and still lash out under pressure. people can be earnestly neighbourly and charitable and hospitable and generous and still find themselves in situations where they become selfish. people can be well meaning and easygoing and gregarious and hold deep seated opinions that turn them into vicious little bullies under the right conditions. nobody is just one thing, and nobody stays one way. every person is a kaleidoscope and they will surprise you. you will surprise yourself. it's not a warning and it's not a judgement and it's not an excuse, and it's certainly not a reason to stop trying or to stop trusting. it is just a fact.

[fairycosmos]

love really DOES feel like an inside joke that everyone is in on but me

[wolkenleere]

And I wondered what it was like to be chosen. I was never chosen. I was a maybe, a probably, sometimes even a definitely but never the one, never the chosen one.

Unknown

[mazzystargirl]

going insane