Outré Ink

Mainly poetry, a bit of fashion. 19. K.Charity

[outre-ink-blog]

Hey, thanks for the follow.

No problem, love. Thank you as well

[outre-ink-blog]

dilemma.

It is quite painful when the people you love most, don’t support your dreams. And they could be unsupportive unintentionally, but either way it hurts. I quite honestly don’t want to hear about how many people fail at it or hard it is or how you don’t make a lot of money at it. I do not care nor did I ask, but people that you are close feel that they can comment without permission. I have noticed especially that the parental type figures in my life are the most critical of the path I want to take, and I have decided to stop discussing. I do not want your help if all you are going to do is criticize or chastise me the entire time. People that are 50 and over truly do not understand the power of the internet, and think I am incompetent and simply being lazy. You can live an entire different life the internet, people make careers out social media. I learn so much from being on the web that I wouldn’t learn otherwise, and I learn it for free. 

[outre-ink-blog]

inside.

I have been trying to look introspectively into myself, and figure out what is in my core. I have been meditating on my soul; I have been paying attention to my thoughts, and allowing myself to feel every emotion. I normally try to restrain myself, and live up to a certain “persona” I have imposed on myself, but now I am just letting myself go. I hope to learn what I want, what I need, and the differences between the two. I hope to grow in patience and understanding. I really just to be a better me tomorrow than I was today.

[delicatepoetry]

a tiny apartment for two, in a big city full of lights and luck. we can share things. pizza. a bed. cuddles. goodnight kisses. i’ll make you tea every evening, and serve you the newspaper every morning. sunday mornings spent in bed are my favorite, pancakes with extra syrup, coffee with extra cream. you hate coffee. i need it. rainy mornings rushing to work, i’ll give you a kiss on the cheek to keep with you through the day. open your lunch box, baby, there’s a surprise inside. a note that’s scribbled in bad handwriting, “i love you, more.” friday nights in, old films and dusty records we pull out of boxes. we can dance around the moonlight to songs of our childhood. long car rides, shoulder kisses and sweaty palms. waking up the neighbors downstairs. i’ll kick you out on the couch, just to wake you up in the middle of the night. come back to bed. i’ll read you my poems in a sleepy daze. the little things, they’re all i want. with you. only with you.

i.c. // a future, please. with you. (via delicatepoetry)

[outre-ink-blog]

i want out.

I feel like I’m drowning, and there’s no escape from it. I can’t revel in my happiness for too long because somehow sadness always creeps back in. I want to be carefree and joyous, but something is holding me back. I cannot pinpoint what it is, and that also scares me quite a bit. I just want life to go smoothly, and I want to be successful, and I want to have fun, and I want to love... But none of that is happening, so here I am drowning

[angelhazeisaweirdo]

im an artist man break my heart its nothing to me.

[passivites]

#MinimalBeirut  The project shows a different side of Beirut. One more vulnerable, more colorful, and quite versatile.

[fleurishes]

Nothing can keep me warm. Not blankets or boys who have my number on speed dial or pizza from real pizzerias. My therapist gushes about self-love and the benefits of drinking eight glasses of water a day. Outside  there are miracles: cars are moving, people are falling in love or walking their dogs or grocery shopping for a party; a stomach bug jumps from person to person. And of course, somewhere, someone is always dying. Everywhere, a fever. And January keeps getting in the way. All anyone says about me is, ‘But her eyes.’ Grief  starts in the legs and works its way up. Trust me, my knees know when the rain is coming. It is important  that I tell myself that I am OK, but also, I mean,  ‘How do you quit yourself.’

Kristina Haynes, “Is it Just Me?” (via fleurishes)

[michellekpoems]

You have your father’s hands. Weather-beaten so often that rough became smooth. Cracked thick and thin wrinkled rivers mapped down knobby knuckles. You have your mother’s face. Oh the tapestry you weave with that wicked tongue. Your eyes are my demise, your eyes are my salvation. How many lies have spilled from those honey-laced lips? My, she taught you well. How often have you laid a heavy hand on your softest cheek? We are not your parents and you are more than their mistakes.

Michelle K., A Letter to In-Laws (via michellekpoems)

[betterthankanyebitch]

[mooneyedandglowing]

Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it’s cracked up to be. That’s why people are so cynical about it. It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don’t risk anything, you risk even more.

Erica Jong (via mooneyedandglowing)

[outre-ink-blog]

blessings.

I wake while In your embrace Sunlight shone through the blinds Your alarm, Went off and quickly changed The mood of the room You promptly rise, But first say “good morning” Followed with a kiss on my forehead I still lie there, Quiet taking it all in “Did I really just sleep here?” And all we really did was sleep... In each others arms, but no fondling of parts Our lips didn’t touch, just our clothed bodies In the most innocent, yet intimate way possible While you were in the bathroom, I said a quick prayer “God, thank you. Amen”

   - K. Charity

[outre-ink-blog]

brown.

Young brothers and sisters Lying in the streets; bodies cold Tax dollars pay the salaries Of these ruthless murderers They swear to protect us But us doesn’t include you If you are brown They better pray to God Us brown don’t decide To release hell Pray that us brown Remain docile

    - K. Charity

[pensivepenman-deactivated201704]

Let’s sip something strong in bed so when we stumble there’s one place to fall. Let’s slant blinds to shed diffused light while we shed covers draped on torso. Let’s see what close is and how deep it goes. Two mirrors look like two walls when they face each other with nothing between. Strength on strength mimics dual weakness if you don’t know better. Biting a tongue is only compelling when it’s not your own. Let’s connect fingertips and see how identities align. Let’s be deliberate with our lips and only use them how we mean. Let’s lock irises like we’re searching for adjectives. Words can overtake a world or be nothing at all. A touch can be flint on steel skin or a way to pass the time. The buzz is in how you consume. Let’s get it right.

pensivepenman (via pensivepenman)

[savagesisu]

[eycer]

Pointe

Tyler Shields

[outre-ink-blog]

the pain behind the beauty. the strength behind the grace.

[outre-ink-blog]

things change.

I sit here and think, and realize that just last week my feelings were so intense about you. I wanted you so badly. I only wanted to spend time with you, all the time. I felt my spirits lift just by receiving a phone call from you or hearing you knock at my door. I would make lists in my head of things we could do together, which documentaries to watch next, what songs we should listen to... I realized that today feelings can change, and they can change quickly. I still want you, and enjoy you, but it is not as intense as before. It’s probably because I don’t feel that these feelings are reciprocated, which is fine. But as soon as my mind realized this, it’s like my heart did too. I look at you, and I still smile, but I know now that I can do without. I am very much so in control of my emotions, and I am glad that I am conscious of that now.

    - K. Charity