kaffein

to love is to lose. that explains why i've won.

[poetqueendom]

and i'm not a prodigal daughter, no, for i'm never returning home.

— but it would feel nice if you asked me to stay

[poetqueendom]

this grief, lodged between my organs so deep, i need the surgeon to carve it out from beneath my spleen, careful not to spill it over my bones

— can you put it in a bucket so i may look at it later?

[poetqueendom]

the next time i invite you over, come lay your pretty head in my lap and i'll tell you of the first time i went mad.

[poetqueendom]

if in the end, we all become stories, then i'd like to be my mother's favourite one to tell.

[poetqueendom]

december, dearest must you leave so soon? i have only just welcomed in your trodden snow, yet you desire to leave behind footprints before the night's noon?

[poetqueendom]

dark, black, no sweetness, mere wonder my coffee order is the same as the taste of the universe, not my soul.

[poetqueendom]

god, let me say something for once, and for once, let someone hear it

[poetqueendom]

behind every hand holding a quill is a soul that plucked his own feather, making a song out of the pain

[poetqueendom]

my naive lover picks me up with woven hands and wraps me like a scarf around her neck, not knowing that i am the noose tied to kill.

[poetqueendom]

there's something beautiful in the way you would not be able to recognise yourself if you were to see yourself through my eyes

— i hope i would not be capable of recognising me either, if i saw through yours

[poetqueendom]

if all good things start terrible, then why is a burning match the beginning of you and i?

[poetqueendom]

it's so easy to pretend to be someone else when you do not know who you are but i know myself, so why do i still act like someone who doesn't love you?

[poetqueendom]

dark academia things i do without even realising they were so (dark) academia

etymology searches - as a biology student, there are so many scientific terms i come across that i have trouble memorising, so to make it easier for myself i almost always search up their etymology and root words, because almost all biological terms are derived from greco-latin sources. this makes bio for me insanely more poetic and beautiful.

ink/graphite stains - be it on fingers, palms, clothes or even my face, i don't think i've ever been stain-free after long studying sessions at all.

a pocket diary + pencil/pen always in my pocket - no matter when or where, i physically cannot leave my room without them, even if it is to go to the washroom because what if an idea strikes me on the toilet seat? what if i need to revise something in the hallway?

endless yearning for learning + striving to be my best and better academically - this is something that has been a part of me since very childhood, and i think this is the most vital part of dark academia that i often see people missing out completely when they talk about this aesthetic. because no, reading the secret history or watching dead poets society, or consuming caffeine, does not make you a dark academic/academian. not when the very essence of this culture is to learn, learn, and learn. its not just gloomy autumn, fountain pens and oxford shoes, its not just an aesthetic, its a lifestyle, its a mindset that's inherent. it's not about being an academic achiever, its about the will to go to extreme lengths to be one.

hair accessory - pinning my hair back using a pencil/pen into a ( messy )bun is unintentionally one of the most academia things ever, in my opinion, if your hair is somewhat around your shoulders/longer.

[poetqueendom]

but life is not terrible at all. how could it be, when the sun still rises in the east and the woodpecker makes song in foraging ?

[poetqueendom]

i want to touch someone. no, not kiss. nor fuck. just a tender finger on their lap, or a shin against their back. a pulse thrumming beneath my skin. a breath fluttering over my hair. that's all i need. that's all i ask.

[poetqueendom]

i want to sit on the floor, i think. and i think i want to be kind. i want to greet the spider crawling on my crayons and i want to say goodbye to the ant who just drowned in my coffee.

[poetqueendom]

and i know that i am a real poet because even after all this losing, i have never ceased loving

—it is a both a strength and a weakness to never stop