🍑🧠

Jo. they/them. Bullshit poetry and art or whatver

[peachymigraines]

As the sun creeps ever upwards over the horizon, another night without sleep. My mind slips back to you. Again and again, like waves crashing to shore. a constant pull, a constant ebb. comforting and ever persistent.

it matters not, how or in what way; merely that to love you is enough.

To be patient enough with the tide to see what it may bring. Broken shells, or polished seaglass? Both to be loved, both cherished and taken home. Both tokens from the sea; from the waves you sit and watch and find peace in.

A lovely token of patience and appreciation.

[peachymigraines]

my heart is too much, and my chest aches with the weight of it.

[peachymigraines]

Remember, when you were younger. Not small, but younger. When you believed that when it rained, it was the earth's way of trying to cheer you up. Remember when you loved the rain. The way it sounded against the roof, the way the whole world seemed to quiet. And the smell... oh the smell of the air. Remember when you used to cherish the moments when it rained. When you believed the earth was crying for you. To let you feel some kind of release you knew you yourself couldnt ever each. Far too numb for that. But the universe, in some moment of mercy, would help. In its little ways. It may be time to believe in that again.

[sanctorums]

sentient apple plushie 🍏🌟

[peachymigraines]

A careful balance ❤️💙

[peachymigraines]

I am doomed for unfinished poetry written on napkins, 

and half sketched ideas on the back of coffee shop receipts, 

shoved in a half filled journal I swear I'd stick to this time. 

Doomed to abandoned projects when there's only one small thing left to do.

There is an ever growing stack of books to finish 

and ticket stubs saved in a box beneath my bed because I swear I’ll do something with them.

There are pressed flowers piled between the books I never finished.

Doomed for the uncompleted things, I can never seem to get anything just right.

Relationships I just dropped out of,

never getting the proper closure... 

maybe this is how I cope,

never - 

“Finishing what I started...” -(j.a.l.)

[peachymigraines]

Shore leave but like, it’s cold. 🌾

[peachymigraines]

Legosi 🦋

[peachymigraines]

Carry your guilt like you carry your favorite book. Carry your guilt like you dog ear the best passages. and carry your guilt like you highlight what’s important, so it’s easier to reference later for when you really want to think on it. For when you need to prove a point (to yourself).  Carry it so well the pages fray and the cover softens. Carry it so well it wears perfectly into your hands. A perfect handhold for when the weight of it is too much to bear.  Carry it so well it’s spine breaks (because yours it has). Carry this guilt like you’ve read it over a thousand times. Because you have. Frontwards and backwards. You would know this book like the back of your hand. Familiar, and necessary.  Carry this guilt so well the title gets smudged. Carry it like the words are fading more and more. Carry it until you can no longer bare to read it.

“Then throw it away.” -(j.a.l.)

[peachymigraines]

This late into the night, everything s t i l l s ; 

There is chatter far in the distance, Below, cars pass by quietly and  The moon is shining making Shimmering shapes of the buildings yawning high above me.

You can almost imagine the lights blinking on and off as starlight distilled… 

I am sitting on the balcony,  The hard stone walls cold and harsh against my back,  I am curled around the phone,  Faded quilt laid out in front of me I pick at the stray threads I find there, While you continue to recite poetry in my ear about swans with necks that    c u r l, 

And I am imagining that...

I am instead leaning into you laughing. We are sharing a blanket on the couch,  And 80’s music croons in the background. We are trying to be quiet in the dim light,  It filters through in winks of passing cars  You tell me what it’s like to live this life through your eyes,  I’m writing poetry on your arm in pen next to stars We are warm with the discarded tea on the coffee table,  I am leaning into you laughing quietly 

Before I open my eyes and my shoulder scratches the concrete behind me. 

No one ever told you your best friend wouldn't live next door

This late at night, everything stills.  But I hold my breath...

...

...

...

And make a wish on the next falling star. 

“Artificial stars” -(j.a.l.)

[peachymigraines]

This is my design 🦌🖤

[peachymigraines]

Sad bird boy 💔

[peachymigraines]

Just a witch, her toad familiar and the flightless salamander dragon she found in the marsh behind her house 🦎🍄✨

[sanctorums]

i finished a nice and soft shawl :3

[peachymigraines]

she made them matching bows 🎀

[sanctorums]

grass type 🍃🌿🌱

[sanctorums]

no bad vibes I am, Vacation Terry🌺