Whispers in silence.

Sometimes, words are enough to change your view towards something or yourself. DO NOT copy the poems, they are original|| DMs are ALWAYS open!!

[poets-world]

I dont look beautiful. I know I don't and there is really no way you can convince me I do. I have a nose that's not what fits the standards. I have front teeth that are way too much on front. I have a long face. I don't have a pageant smile. I lose whenever I compare myself to her. I have flaws on the outside that you judge me for and it's okay, that's the kind of society we live in.

But it's weird that inspite of knowing this fact, I feel beautiful. I feel beautiful when I am writing. I feel beautiful when I am having a hot cup of coffee after studying continuously. I feel beautiful when I step on the terrace and my headache stops throbbing. I feel beautiful when I sign my name at the end of a poem or when I put my face or my hand in the rain. I feel it when I am so tired I sleep without any thoughts. When I have cried for way too long and my face shines and I don't have any tears to cry anymore. I feel it when my skinny jeans fits me perfectly and I can't stop staring myself in the mirror, with hair down and messy. I feel beautiful when I laugh at the inside jokes I have with myself. When I am alone, just thinking and the thoughts make sense and I am able to pen it down. I feel beautiful when someone likes it. I feel it when I am done with the day's work. I feel it when I think of future even though it's becoming rare lately. I can't see future as clearly as I did. But there are moments, I see myself and I have made it and I am alive. Wearing those skinny jeans and walking with my hands in my pocket on a now silent at 2 am New York Street. I feel beautiful when I think of it.

But this beauty is what no one appreciates anymore. Everyone wants everyone to be kind, beautiful from inside. But the problem is, neither does anyone respect that beauty nor does anyone know to value it.

So does this feeling of beautiful matter?

As often as not, I like to think it does. To me, it does.

-S

[poets-world]

Hard conversation;

God you were closely

When he pushed me 

In his frustration 

When I said no, not now

Please, I added

And left me covering

And crying

For not being okay

Not being ready

Not wanting it right then.

I looked at him and said

As firm as I could be

With tears flowing,

"Not till 21,no",

He looked sad.

And i cried harder.

I had to ask,

"Do you love me?"

Umhm.

But when he was leaving,

A week later, he said,

"I can't love someone,

Who's caged."

[poets-world]

I dont look beautiful. I know I don't and there is really no way you can convince me I do. I have a nose that's not what fits the standards. I have front teeth that are way too much on front. I have a long face. I don't have a pageant smile. I lose whenever I compare myself to her. I have flaws on the outside that you judge me for and it's okay, that's the kind of society we live in.

But it's weird that inspite of knowing this fact, I feel beautiful. I feel beautiful when I am writing. I feel beautiful when I am having a hot cup of coffee after studying continuously. I feel beautiful when I step on the terrace and my headache stops throbbing. I feel beautiful when I sign my name at the end of a poem or when I put my face or my hand in the rain. I feel it when I am so tired I sleep without any thoughts. When I have cried for way too long and my face shines and I don't have any tears to cry anymore. I feel it when my skinny jeans fits me perfectly and I can't stop staring myself in the mirror, with hair down and messy. I feel beautiful when I laugh at the inside jokes I have with myself. When I am alone, just thinking and the thoughts make sense and I am able to pen it down. I feel beautiful when someone likes it. I feel it when I am done with the day's work. I feel it when I think of future even though it's becoming rare lately. I can't see future as clearly as I did. But there are moments, I see myself and I have made it and I am alive. Wearing those skinny jeans and walking with my hands in my pocket on a now silent at 2 am New York Street. I feel beautiful when I think of it.

But this beauty is what no one appreciates anymore. Everyone wants everyone to be kind, beautiful from inside. But the problem is, neither does anyone respect that beauty nor does anyone know to value it.

So does this feeling of beautiful matter?

As often as not, I like to think it does. To me, it does.

-S

[poets-world]

she told me she knows

Why I keep myself busy

And why I work so hard

She said everyone knows i'm hurting 

And i am allowed to

And with that

I have hurted less for hurting more

Than i should have.

I don't hurt in the dark but in light,

I don't hurt in silence, but aloud,

I don't weep, I vail

Not when alone, but in all the crowded places

Like,In corners I grew love

And in gardens I hate

And tall building and empty roads

They all know your name.

I wisper wishes every Wednesday,

I go around beating 'round the bush

But we know the truth

I'll ache until ache is all that's left

Until I drift away

In the same ocean

We once dreamt 

We'd sail.

-S

[poets-world]

And I started to talk about drinking 

When all I wanted to do was drown

Ignoring the fact that I already am knee deep.

I said I'd quit these sappy prose

Switch to the happy ones

when you asked why even my ink drips onto the paper like a tear drop rolling down a cheek.

I started to take 2 turns more into the lanes I have never been

Just to see if that's where we'll collide

And then two more turns into the void

I am now a personal detective 

Investing my case

Dissecting every word you said

Holding onto some for my dear life

But God knows I spiral down to hell

Every damn time.

I am my own psychtrist,

Asking questions to which as an answer.

I'd rather scream.

I am my own everything 

Yet I don't own any of me

Those random left and right

Never lead to anywhere I'd want to be

Those bloodshot eyes search for rebut so desperately 

And in retrospect if i ever look back at this

My heart will sink with pitty

When I read a book and the protagonist said 'how do I get out of this labyrinth of suffering'

And thinking how I wasn't a part of this maze

But now it's closing onto me 

Everyone's a part of it, I'd say 

Because it's really just me

With light shining onto my face.

I didn't crumble, my system crashed

For what it's worth to the story

I pleaded to the Doctor for the pills that detach

Not me from you

But me from my soul

And now I spray tan my thoughts when alone.

[poets-world]

Reminder to remember that reminders are beautiful. A line, a smile, a hug,a text or a paragraph or a card or a note stuck on the fridge door.

[thepersonalquotes]

little miss automatically goes silent when something hurts her feelings

[depodraws]

金繕い (Golden Repair)

The Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold

[blackheartbiohazards]

People used to comment on web comics.

People used to comment on fanfiction.

People used to comment on fanart.

People used to comment on OCs.

I hate "content" culture.

I hate "consuming content" and scrolling immediately to the next thing.

People used to be excited about the art that other people created.

People used to want to share that excitement with creators.

I hate this future.

[depodraws]

Once someone tagged art that I made with "woah" and I think about it at least once a week. Someone else said "oh neat" once. Someone else WROTE A WHOLE DAMN POEM IN THE COMMENTS. Anyways even just one word can change how someone sees their art. You don't even have to think about it too hard. You could put a keyboard smash and I'd probably cry from joy.

I'm also trying hard to interact more, I understand that it's hard to break away from opening your phone and being in Content Consumption Mode.

[marlynnofmany]

People thrive on validation. Making a Thing, then sharing the Thing for other people to enjoy ... when you find out that other people actually enjoyed it, that makes all the time you spent making it worthwhile.

[poets-world]

I, for one, love sad things. there is some kind of beauty in a sigh breathed while holding onto the glass of whisky for your life. There is beauty in the hastily written poems, as you bleed the words on the paper. There is beauty in sad things if only we see it. Then those sad things dont seem so sad anymore, they just seem beautiful. Sure running in a sunny field is beautiful, but ever read a book in which you are so emotionally invested, the death, the separation physically hurts you? ever cried cause of it? THAT is also beautiful. Sad poems are beautiful, sad stories are beautiful, sad pictures are beautiful,the woes are beautiful. And uk what? Sad people are just as beautiful. And extremely powerful too

so if you are sad, I think you are beautiful and i love you

[poets-world]

I dont look beautiful. I know I don't and there is really no way you can convince me I do. I have a nose that's not what fits the standards. I have front teeth that are way too much on front. I have a long face. I don't have a pageant smile. I lose whenever I compare myself to her. I have flaws on the outside that you judge me for and it's okay, that's the kind of society we live in.

But it's weird that inspite of knowing this fact, I feel beautiful. I feel beautiful when I am writing. I feel beautiful when I am having a hot cup of coffee after studying continuously. I feel beautiful when I step on the terrace and my headache stops throbbing. I feel beautiful when I sign my name at the end of a poem or when I put my face or my hand in the rain. I feel it when I am so tired I sleep without any thoughts. When I have cried for way too long and my face shines and I don't have any tears to cry anymore. I feel it when my skinny jeans fits me perfectly and I can't stop staring myself in the mirror, with hair down and messy. I feel beautiful when I laugh at the inside jokes I have with myself. When I am alone, just thinking and the thoughts make sense and I am able to pen it down. I feel beautiful when someone likes it. I feel it when I am done with the day's work. I feel it when I think of future even though it's becoming rare lately. I can't see future as clearly as I did. But there are moments, I see myself and I have made it and I am alive. Wearing those skinny jeans and walking with my hands in my pocket on a now silent at 2 am New York Street. I feel beautiful when I think of it.

But this beauty is what no one appreciates anymore. Everyone wants everyone to be kind, beautiful from inside. But the problem is, neither does anyone respect that beauty nor does anyone know to value it.

So does this feeling of beautiful matter?

As often as not, I like to think it does. To me, it does.

-S

[thetortured-poet]

Hiii all!!

Okay so I am bored and therefore I want to make mood boards but I cant seem to think of a topic and I need your help! Reblog with the kind of mood board you would like!!!!!

Tagging some mutuals: @cruelestwonderland @darkwitchycupcakes @nerdyfuntheorist @mishrigf @the-soul-in-the-sixth-sense @chiara-swiftiedreamer13

[chiara-swiftiedreamer13]

Maybe what you feel like when you think about how Midnights would be like? 💗

[poets-world]

Okay! I am gonna try my best!

[ciwyw2]

the gp awareness of this album is kinda insane

[poets-world]

I have never felt this before, the tenderness of something so beautiful come to a definite end. I have never felt the reverence for a decision this hurtful. The acceptance that just as the most alluring sunset skies dissolve into the black night sky, just as the stars, no matter their luminosity, shoot down; just as every perfectly worded book has a last perfect word; every enticing bond, every enticing entity itself, ceases.

Not every beginning starts with a big bang. Not every begining starts with 5 am morning walks and face masks. It, for me, doesn't start with new clothes and new makeup. It always isn't sudden or beautiful.

For me, this begining starts with a sigh.

_S_

[feral-ballad]

Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak; “Concerns from a hot-boxed jeep”

[Text ID: “How do I stop / carrying everything / that had ever / happened to me?”]

[taylorswift]

Thank you Jenny Han for debuting my version of This Love in the trailer for The Summer I Turned Pretty!! I’ve always been so proud of this song and I’m very 🥺🥺🥺 about this turn of events - This Love (Taylor’s Version) comes out tonight at m i d n i g h t! Pre-order now http://taylor.lnk.to/thislovetv

[seamossdoll]