Oh, Poetry, feed my soul.

[zach-zimmerman]

Maybe you’re losing it. Or maybe you are finally realizing how lost you’ve always been.

Zach Zimmerman

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

I am always filled with melancholy. It’s as if I see everything black. Everything wounds me deeply.

Nikos Kazantzakis, from a letter to Harilaos Stefanidis wr. c. April 1904 (via violentwavesofemotion)

[introvertedguys]

And in the end, we were all just humans drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

[qatriox]

when i was 7, and my cousin was staying over for the day, my mother gave us both three oranges each. my cousin peeled one of his oranges and tasted it. "it's so sour," he said, making a face, and the both of us did not want to eat the oranges anymore. in my head, i thought if only i could make the oranges sweet, if only i could make it so that there were no more sour oranges in the world, then that would surely be nice; then no one would have to be sad about sour oranges.

my mother laughed. "don't look so glum then. come with me," she said and led us to the kitchen. my mother brought out more of those oranges we were sad about, some sugar, and water, and asked us to peel the oranges. once we were done, my mother thanked us, and told us to play outside, saying she'd call us back after a while. it was a sunny day out, one where you could hear the trees breathing. grass brushed on our skins, and the flowers laughed along till our throats were sore and our feet hurt.

my mother called us back to the kitchen just before the sun could set. my cousin and i were breathing heavily, and our stomachs were groaning. my mother made us sit down around the dining table, and served us each toast with some jam spread on top of it and a glass of milk. "i hope you like the oranges this time," she said. "wait, this is orange jam?" i asked. "of course," she said with laugh. "go on, give it a taste." my cousin and i looked at each other, slowly picked up the toast, and each took a bite. it was sweet and delicious. i kept taking bites, until i realized i had finished all of it. i looked over to my cousin. he was smiling. we both asked for seconds. and thirds. we ate and ate till we couldn't anymore. the warmth of that moment, spilling from the windows and unto the table, was golden.

"but it was so sour before," my cousin said after some silence. "sour oranges can always be sweetened. there are other ways of doing it, too. i decided to make jam, because i thought it would fit the bread more than anything else, and it wouldn't take too long to make," my mother said. "huh. that's cool."

and then i thought that maybe i didn't have to be sad about sour oranges anymore, because they didn't have to stay sour all the time. because it turns out, i can make sour oranges into sweet ones.

[drunk-on-writing]

home isn’t just where you live but where you freely fall apart it may not be four walls and a roof but two arms and a beating heart

(cc, 2019)

[constuhllations]

how many seconds can i go without thinking about you two?

one.

two.

three.

four.

five.

i heard you two talked in your car for five hours.

what did you talk about?

did she ask about your mother?

ask about your dreams?

did she even wonder about how you stay up too late?

five hours. we don't even get five minutes anymore.

one.

two.

three.

four.

i see her everyday.

she talks to so many of my friends.

she talks to me,

and i just want to ask her why she would kiss you

if she knew you were everything to me.

everything.

instead i stand there, and smile,

and i tell her i love her hair, because i do.

i love it. she's beautiful, and i wish

i could just simply hate her, but i don't hate her. i think i hate you.

one.

two.

three.

i keep imagining you two so close together.

wrapped up in one another.

was it in your car? i will never look at it the same again.

i thought you wanted to save yourself, and i thought you thought it was so dumb to do it all so young.

i guess i thought wrong.

maybe it was a mistake that it happened,

but maybe it was a bigger mistake that i have waited for you for so long.

i need to let go.

one.

two.

i am letting go. slowly. very slowly.

you don't know how hard it is.

we all think we know people,

when we really don't.

one.

just one little moment, it doesn't hurt and the next, it is pounding.

i can't even go five seconds without thinking about this.

i can't even go one.

i want to stop imagining it.

i wish no one had ever told me.

i wish the moment had floated away into an empty space

but it takes up the whole sky. every bit of it.

it is all i see- you and her.

fuck you both.

(can i mention her name or do you still not want people to know?)

[kelamzen]

✔️ İbni Kayyim El Cevziyye (rh) dedi ki:

🔺 Kalp ne zaman Allah'tan uzaklaşırsa felaketler onu bulur; ne zaman Allah'a yaklaşırsa felaketler ondan uzak olur.

[rydersworldbro]

My awake is just aimlessly filling the hours in between sleep. Sleep is so elusive, my thoughts are so intrusive, but sleep - when it comes, is that precious time where I don’t have to persist! An off switch that I can hit to glitch back out of this painful fucking matrix, pretending that I don’t exist.

A life left unlived, is one that will not be missed // ©️@rarasworldbro

[bandaidsfortheheart]

Does anyone else feel like a plant?  What I mean is, are you, too, stuck in a never-ending circle of dying and re-birth? You decay and your leaves fall off and then Spring comes and you’re saying “Look at me grow. Look at these flowers. I’ve re-built myself. I’m blooming. I’m thankful for the winter that taught me and brought me here.” 

And you keep outgrowing your pot. Keep needing to be re-planted. Keep uprooting yourself because the soil you’re in isn’t feeding you anymore. 

Yes, I guess I am always growing. I guess that means I’m alive. I guess it’s okay that maybe both me, and the trees, we’re always learning how to survive.

But maybe for a moment, I wish the seasons would stop spinning. I want to stay green this time. 

[dg-fragments]

"Perhaps you don't know but, let me tell you, he has no friends, not like proper friends, he knows quite a lot of people, and many people know him too, but that's how far it goes, on nights like this, he gets in his shell because that's where he feel safe, he tries to be social but it doesn't work for him. There are definitely quite a lot of people who know him and would acknowledge him too, of course they'd even refer to him for some help or advice in areas where he can help, but they ain't really his friends. Maybe it's because of him too, since he doesn't usually have much to say, even when there might be tons going on inside his chaotic mind."

- DG

[iamktb13-deactivated20210915]

Naked autumn trees

A whirl of leaves in the breeze

Winter is coming

KTB

[schuylerpeck]

insta @ hiitssky 

[poetsbloom]

You are

My every waking thought

And the reason

My heart still beats.

[jtbarnett]

I’m pretty fucking sure I’m dying.

J.T. Barnett (via jtbarnett)

[justscribbledwords]

i am trying to learn to wear confidence as a second skin but the skin i was born with has become unbelievably large and big and thick and nothing fits over it. boys love a few bits of it but, the rest, they ask me to discard over a treadmill or on a hill or somewhere they can’t see so they can show me off like an animal in a zoo. never once has anyone asked me to become smaller because my waist could knock off my knees under its weight, everyone asked me to loose a few layers of me because being too big is something that brings them shame. nobody asked me to exercise to live longer, everyone just wanted me to be smaller. i always hated labels but, i wanted just one laid on me. sadly, beauty was the label they did not put on me

[gracebriarwoodwrites]

I let the same kind of sadness into my heart again and again.  I would say it’s because I haven’t learned to guard myself against it, but I see the signs and I let it in. 

[cappypulpyy]

~ it slowly became my drug ~