finding myself

she is like a cat in the dark and then she is the darkness

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

“Tenderly, dying inside,”

— Olga Orozco, from Engravings: Torn from Insomnia: “A Face In Autumn,”

[petty-shit]

its jordan kitch w da bass bitch

[baetology]

Stop letting your heart and your pussy choose your men.

[trapbinch]

I’m confused, what is left…

[trapbinch]

Oh nvm lmao my brain. You right sis lol you is right

[baetology]

You really forgot your whole brain.

[pussylipgloss]

she read this post with her pussy

[petty-shit]

me

[voidlightmoon]

Haven’t looked to the skies

in so long

so very long, now

No stars, or moon

gone too soon

all that’s left, are lies

Don’t know if

can keep holding on

to something

that never, ever, will be

It’s okay,

just smile and say

that, one day, we’ll all be free

Feel my hands slipping,

slipping, slipping

from the edge I’ve been

gripping, gripping

not afraid, anymore

Maybe there is something

something across

the shore

but, it really doesn’t matter anyway

Say my goodbyes

no tears left

in these eyes

the ending of my day

[weltenwellen]

“to be this anxious, this uncertain, to be feeling this unmoored, my heart cringing in my hand.”

— Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz, from “Lenox IV”, published in “How to Love the Empty Air”

[rm-drake-lines]

[lifeinpoetry]

The sky spits. I feel, & I feel nothing.

I anoint myself with sky, & swallow.

— Chelsea Dingman, from “Antipastoral,” published in New England Review

[petty-shit]

I feel and I feel nothing.

[petty-shit]

if i get a little prettier can i be your baby?

[lifeinpoetry]

“I want to beg the sun to never come home. I beg the sun, do not come home. I beg the sun. I beg the sun.”

— Sanna Wani, from “Moon gods are not born,” published in Glass

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

“Tenderly, dying inside,”

— Olga Orozco, from Engravings: Torn from Insomnia: “A Face In Autumn,”

[petty-shit]

lil bitch u can't fwm if you wanted to

[willow]

i think its important to shut the fuck up sometimes

[erupted]

[savage-words]

I’m not sure I’ll ever stop seeing bruises and bloody knuckles as romantic. Not because pain is particularly beautiful, but because it means that person has felt something. They’ve walked a few miles alone and learned how to trust their own footsteps, even if it hurt. It’s not that they even came out stronger in the end; rather, they are more than the worst of what happened to them. They kicked, screamed, cried and crawled, but they made it out alive. Don’t tell me there isn’t poetry in scars.

____________________

written and submitted by @abbyharris578

[petty-shit]

fucking yes.

[petty-shit]

Relapse #2

Tonight I broke some promises I thought I’d always keep Tonight the enemy won the match He brought me to my knees I lost the fight I had to face Tonight my head hangs low But tomorrow I will carry on And battle the truth I know I am powerless over my addiction I’ve proved that to myself Am I finally ready to give up the fight? And release myself from hell I know that on the other side Lies happiness, joy, and peace But I’m lost and frightened, afraid and unsure Of what the future brings

[petty-shit]

Reality

How did I end up here so quickly? With a needle in my arm. They told me this would happen, I thought I was safe from harm. The demons got my attention They taunted me with the prize Knowing I would say yes And face my near demise I let my defenses down Although it wasn’t for that long The enemy fought and the enemy won The second I hit that bong Tears stream steadily down my face What on earth have I done? What I never thought I’d do again Today my addiction won

[purplebuddhaquotes]

“Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that - I love life. But it is hard, and I have so much - so very much to learn.”

—

Sylvia Plath