Pale Rose Poetry @palerosepoetry - Tumblr Blog

a checklist for a death

a phone call rush back to the hospital meet in a bright cold square hear the news —hear the cries when was the last time I held you?

fill out this form pick out the urn submit the insurance claim check the tracking code —when you'll come home what was the last meal you ate?

now you're just a feeling that comes over me endlessly

#bleh it's a wip but I can't look at it anymore #i miss you #missing you #grief poetry #grieving #my writing #poetry #original poem #poem #pale rose poetry #poetry on tumblr

wordlessmelodies

starting a collection

#miss when I felt like this #it was rare but so precious #now I struggle to write because I don't have words for the hurt anymore

palerosepoetry

Like a star

To see you is to miss you, like the stars in the sky. When you are not around, there is a black hole beside me, It steals my thoughts. Like if you were the sun, time turned back, The light shining in my eyes, my lips, my body. That must be why this cancer grows, capturing my pulse, Flying away with it. Always you are gone, though; as far As another galaxy, revolving with your own gravity. Sending comets my way, to flow through all the empty And to land on my heart.

Then you are near, we touch. Could we get closer, So close that we are faster, to catch up with the light, until we are one, Our stars within our stars, our breaths as one, our thoughts as one? How could I capture all the little stars in you? Bring them to me, Kiss them, hold them, within all the empty, but somehow strong.

If you got too close, I feel like I’d evaporate, just disappear. Like a flame on a birthday candle. Just breathe, I’ll float away, Into that vacuum of space, above clouds and suns and planets, Into the ether, into nothing.

palerosepoetry

To Mother

Words may not break bones But they broke my heart. My miserability amplified By your miser tongue. The hope of a small child dashed Against a wall daily, repeatedly. Each plea and love-word spent Until I was in debt, and homeless.

Pain so bad I wish I could die, And you pile on painful words. Every time you speak it just adds To the hurt I feel everyday. Someone without a mother’s love is— You still breathe, and until you no longer do I will be trapped inside this hate. Until you are buried deep Within my heart, I will always be your little girl— Subhuman, undeserving of what could’ve been.

palerosepoetry

This poem was written in 2011 after I had moved without sharing my new location with my parents. I cut off contact with them shortly after. To express what I felt but couldn't tell them, I wrote a poem to each of them, one of which is To Mother.

To this day I don't regret estranging myself from my parents, who were toxic and terrible for my mental health. My mother in particular had a way of making everything about her and victimizing herself. If I had a bad day, which was often, I had to "act positive" so it wouldn't upset her. When I asked to go to a doctor for intense pain as a child, I was "seeking attention", just like her sister did (to her) when they were children! Looking back it's pretty obvious she is a narcissist with depression, or bipolar disorder. It wasn't and still isn't my responsibility to take on her problems as my own.

The funniest thing? While I lived with my parents as an adult, I was standing up for myself more and attempting—for the first time—to put healthy boundaries on how they treated me. My mother became upset that I wasn't being her little verbal punching bag anymore, of course, so she had my father threaten to kick me out. It didn't happen because I then made it my number one priority to move out. Now that I've been out of her house and out of her life for over a decade, I hope she's happy.

If you're dealing with a mother or anyone else treating you like this now, or did in the past, remember: it's in your power to decide who is in your life. Your mother is not a mother if she loves you only as a part of herself and not for who you are as your own person. There is nothing binding you to her just because she gave birth to you or ensured your survival for a period of time. A relationship has to have consent on both sides. You can revoke consent at any time.

#mothers day #reminder #original poem #original poetry #authors note #unhappy mother's day #estranged family #estrangement #i hate my mom #i hate my mother #pale rose poetry

palerosepoetry

how do I tell you?

how do I tell you that I'm barely surviving and life is an endless slog

how do I tell you when you say that you're worthless all the toil feels meaningless

all this for you so you can say you feel worthless compared to me who crawled every day through all this fucking mess so you could play without this stress it's all for you

how do I tell you that I love you regardless if we might end up homeless

how do I tell you you're worth it and more you're worth struggling for

#updated #my poem #original poem #nothing is going to change #even if I tell you it doesn't matter

palerosepoetry

To Mother

Words may not break bones But they broke my heart. My miserability amplified By your miser tongue. The hope of a small child dashed Against a wall daily, repeatedly. Each plea and love-word spent Until I was in debt, and homeless.

Pain so bad I wish I could die, And you pile on painful words. Every time you speak it just adds To the hurt I feel everyday. Someone without a mother’s love is— You still breathe, and until you no longer do I will be trapped inside this hate. Until you are buried deep Within my heart, I will always be your little girl— Subhuman, undeserving of what could’ve been.

palerosepoetry

This poem was written in 2011 after I had moved without sharing my new location with my parents. I cut off contact with them shortly after. To express what I felt but couldn't tell them, I wrote a poem to each of them, one of which is To Mother.

To this day I don't regret estranging myself from my parents, who were toxic and terrible for my mental health. My mother in particular had a way of making everything about her and victimizing herself. If I had a bad day, which was often, I had to "act positive" so it wouldn't upset her. When I asked to go to a doctor for intense pain as a child, I was "seeking attention", just like her sister did (to her) when they were children! Looking back it's pretty obvious she is a narcissist with depression, or bipolar disorder. It wasn't and still isn't my responsibility to take on her problems as my own.

The funniest thing? While I lived with my parents as an adult, I was standing up for myself more and attempting—for the first time—to put healthy boundaries on how they treated me. My mother became upset that I wasn't being her little verbal punching bag anymore, of course, so she had my father threaten to kick me out. It didn't happen because I then made it my number one priority to move out. Now that I've been out of her house and out of her life for over a decade, I hope she's happy.

If you're dealing with a mother or anyone else treating you like this now, or did in the past, remember: it's in your power to decide who is in your life. Your mother is not a mother if she loves you only as a part of herself and not for who you are as your own person. There is nothing binding you to her just because she gave birth to you or ensured your survival for a period of time. A relationship has to have consent on both sides. You can revoke consent at any time.

#unhappy mother's day #author's note #estrangement #estranged family #i hate my mom #i hate my mother #i hate my parents #original poem #pale rose poetry

thatflowerjazmin

I am the daughter of a daughter with a mother with no soul

My grandmother hates my mother in the way a loser hates a winner. There does not exist a competition except for the one she tells people.

In my mother, my grandmother sees everything she is not What she could have been what her sins keep her away from being.

But my mother, in her mother sees a bucket with no soul see a person who should love her but instead, choose to ignore her

They live in the same house even though their eyes never meet each other It is a dog and cat relationship In where my grandmother is a cat that leaves scars on my mother's heart and my mother is a dog that receives the pain with pride and love She is a shield for her child She protects me from my horrible family line.

-Jazmin D'Roa

#not mine #reblog #poetry

To Father

We sit, it is warm and calm, and you fold your hands, as if praying—useless.

With new eyes I can see it was a fist, doubled.

For what comes out of your mouth is not grace or an appeal, but a harsh grating, grinding.

I can hear the echo still, reverberating in my skull.

Alone we sit, eyes untouching, and the air is serene, and yet those noises, like razors shredding.

Stuck in me, these fragments of hate, without understanding or care.

Whittling me down, sharpening me— although I was serrated— til I cut anything that came near.

I thought I was worthless, subhuman, undeserving of what could've been.

I can't remember how it ended, but I remember the tears later, wet with salt, sometimes red.

Those words are still in my head, with all the things you've said.

#unhappy father's day lol #i hate my dad #estrangement #estranged family #original poem #poetry #poetry on tumblr #poem #poets on tumblr #i hate my father #i hate my parents #my writing #pale rose poetry #i'm late i know #originally written in 2011 #version 2 rewritten in 2023 #writerscafe

how do I tell you?

how do I tell you that I'm barely surviving and life is an endless slog

how do I tell you when you say that you're worthless all the toil feels meaningless

all this for you so you can say you feel worthless compared to me who crawled every day through all this fucking mess so you could play without this stress it's all for you

how do I tell you that I love you regardless if we might end up homeless

how do I tell you you're worth it and more you're worth struggling for

#relationship poetry #poem #spilled ink #original poem #poetry #poetry on tumblr #poets on tumblr #poetry blog #my writing #pale rose poetry #have a new poem #been awhile since i wrote anything so figured why not publish it

palerosepoetry

A Warning

Oh my love, you need a sky saturated with color Shining over you as the sun rises. And love, you need a warmth burning like a fire, Lighting up your face with a glow. And my dear, you need a devotion like a believer Seeking God, in both heart and mind.

My love, you need all this.

But I—I have nothing but the black Smothering the dull moon at night. Nothing except cold ashes In a pit of dirt ringed with stones. Nothing but a lack of belief And empty heart and mind.

So I say to you, look away. I need not these things you need, and I have nothing to offer you. Leave now before I miss the color of your face, The warmth of your body, The reverence of your glance.

If you stay there will only be rain, A gray mist under gray clouds– For this is my world, a blackened and burnt white world. Live here for awhile and soon, you’ll be A desaturated soul, dry like ash, and withered— Crumbled from lack of sun and fire, my soulmate. Now I can give you all you need, my love.

Oh my love, you need not me.

#reblog

robotgirl

squeaky hinges rusted so she can scarcely walk— but walk she does axles grind like someone screaming out to fill the empty void that is her mouth

light on her chest busted and caked with dust— but she long ago powered off made of all metal with skin cold and hard every inch of her body is lonely and scarred

she'd been made with eyes closed shut but then she knew from her opened eyes tears slowly fell to corrode the stoic mask, the empty shell

the arid field of life can't go on forever but it stretches on raging sand comes to rip at her form she has to lay low to weather the storm

she'll walk until she can't anymore the poor, lost robotgirl

#poem #depression poetry #personal poem #personal poetry #sad poem #sad poetry #original poem #poetry #my writing #pale rose poetry

A knife would be relief so sweet

A knife would be relief so sweet, Compared to this pain so acute. A razor does more as love Than you could ever dream of.

The blood would be relief from Heat, Made down below in the Fruit. My finger does more as love Than one could ever dream of.

A pill could be a special treat, But now it seems my word is mute. Objects do more as love Than I would ever dream of.

Love would stop my further retreat, It has power one can’t refute. But one can never attain love With horrors never dreamt of.

#old poetry #self harm poem #self harm poetry #self harm #poetry #poem #my writing #original poem #poetry on tumblr #poets on tumblr #teenage angst #pale rose poetry #wrote this when I was a teenager don't judge

To Mother

Words may not break bones But they broke my heart. My miserability amplified By your miser tongue. The hope of a small child dashed Against a wall daily, repeatedly. Each plea and love-word spent Until I was in debt, and homeless.

Pain so bad I wish I could die, And you pile on painful words. Every time you speak it just adds To the hurt I feel everyday. Someone without a mother’s love is— You still breathe, and until you no longer do I will be trapped inside this hate. Until you are buried deep Within my heart, I will always be your little girl— Subhuman, undeserving of what could’ve been.

#unhappy mother's day lol #i hate my mom #estrangement #estranged family #original poem #poetry #poetry on tumblr #poem #poets on tumblr #i hate my mother #i hate my parents #my writing #pale rose poetry

palerosepoetry

the invisible feeling

if feelings were physical, resulting in disease or wounds, I’d have fallen down in the street and someone passing by would have helped me up, and they could run tests and fix me up with pills and stitches and get well cards. but it’s not like that in this world, because feelings are only chemicals, spurting about in your brain and body, not something you can touch and glue together.

sometimes I think it’s not fair, that I deserve help like someone who’d been stabbed, or had any other organ fail, other times it’s good because I can still put one foot in front of the other and get somewhere, but the problem is I’m aimed in the wrong direction and I get lost, so even though I’m moving it’s not like I’m going anywhere, because I can’t press a button or turn a knob to change myself to the right channel.

am I even in love or is it just desperation to cling to someone who cares just enough, so I’d have a reason not to disappear into the woods to let ravens and worms find me, or maybe I love him to have an excuse to feel as if there’s a need for me to be here, letting him do whatever he pleases even when I cry or rage because of him, but usually I think it’s good that I’m in love because it forces me to carry him on my back, and the weight is a good reminder that I’m still here and that I need to keep moving.

if I had a wish I’d let people see what I feel, hear what I hear in my head when I’m alone and down, so maybe they would understand and help me—reach in and stitch me closed or apply a salve or turn the knob, because I can’t reach in to do a system restore by myself. oh, and I wish that there was a reset button for my brain, because maybe then I could go down the path to where my life means something.

but maybe if people could see me for what I am they wouldn’t help me, they’d abandon me like a leper— but maybe if my lover could see my emotions as festering sores and vomiting blood he’d run in the other direction— so yes, it’s a good thing no one can see what’s in my brain, as physical as my feelings. at least this way I can exist in the same world.

it’s probably for the best that I don’t get wishes.

#reblog #original poem #mental illness #mental illness stigma #poem #poetry

cmacaulays

gwendolyn brooks / milsae / richard siken / mario miranda / ross gay / jacob van loop

#poetry #poems #art #not mine #reblog

gave my heart and soul to the wrong person

but there is no right person, how can this be a mistake?

gave my trust and years to the wrong person

but there is no other person for me, how can I be alone again?

everyone says to leave, so quick to leave

as if they haven't felt what I feel

we're stitched together, me and him, the blood dried up and scabs faded to scars

I know I have to rip him out of my very pores, out of my atoms

but how can I stay when the needle is still threading through my insides?

more like a poison than bond, one I drank of my own will

so I would have someone to hold me when I was frozen

everyone says to leave,

yet they don't say you'll get burned if you start

in the beginning I would wake up thinking only of him, but now I wake up thinking how am I going to tell him?

tearing the threads out, I'm pulled apart at the smallest level to be left alone and bleeding

but how will I endure this everlasting pain when my love still breathes somewhere apart from me forever?

parts of him I carry with me, absorbed into me, aches with this untold knowledge

but I will never have to say goodbye as he will always be with me, and he never has to know these feelings

definegodliness

A good thing

It’s a good thing you are feeling again; I guess it never was a thing of walls in need of piercing, emptiness neither blocks, reflects, nor absorbs the light trying to get in, so it’s a good thing you’re feeling again, though it’s going to take some time for you to re-find your bearings ‘cause life is about more than love and affection and these open nerves still have to grow some skin, but it’s a good thing you’re feeling again, you’ve found the strength to be vulnerable again; to be touched again, and even though this time love didn’t win, it is safe to say it healed a lot of damage; it’s a good thing you’re feeling again, indeed a good thing, my friend. _ 4-9-2018, M.A. Tempels ©

#reblog #not mine #poetry #poem

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