Queen Lupita Jones

He has a throne made of stone. His scepter the moon. His cape embellished with stars, and his crown the sun.

[dxlicateauricflame777]

There are things i taught myself to remember:

Donot give up if you have nothing, because you still have everything to gain,

But, one thing you donot get; which is the chance to do it all over again.

And you will never find it on the outside; the peace your soul seeks,

There is so much more to life and our eyes only see minute peeks.

The real truth may not always be the one to your eyes,

But have faith that from deceit the truth shall always rise,

Clear like the sun in cloudless skies,

And if you try hard enough you will grasp over happiness wherever it lies.

-❁HH❁

[heartofmuse]

Let your heart have the kindness of a tree that gives shade without asking for anything in return.

Let your soul have the generosity of a flower that gifts its beauty to all who pose thier eyes on it, indistinctly of everything.

Let your words always be full of love like the sky is full of stars for the light of both always shines.

Let your hands always be soft and your arms ready to embrace for you do not know who you may touch who may be in dire need of them today.

e.v.e.

[poeticstories]

“Best poets are able to make poetry universal.”

—

poetry quotes

(via

poetlegit

)

[elycwinters]

Outside my Window

Outside my window the night is dark not a single light comes and makes any spark, the silence is deep for the world is calm rain falls down like a cold wet balm, the cold nights of March are in full swing but then again, it’s Spring’s own thing.

Outside my window the night is mine the stars and the moon come out to shine, moonflowers bloom slowly and quietly outside, filling the earth with a noble and lovely pride, the scent of wet grass flows through the air it’s the beauty of spring, this I swear.

Outside my window the day shines bright promising summer with all its might.

- Ely C. Winters.

[creatingnikki]

Unrealistic

Is your ignorance

And inconsideration

Not my expectations

Unsatisfactory

Are your answers

And apologies

Not my existence

Uninspired

Are your days

And your conversations

Not my art

Yes, I expect 'a lot' but only because I am...I am a lot

Of courage

Of beauty

Of maturity

Of creativity

Of love

Of faith

Of kindness

Of brilliance

So if you're not, that's okay. But don't you dare make me feel like a psycho based on your lackings

[mybeautifulbleedingpieces]

I will euthanize my heart tonight for it keeps screaming your name even though our time has ended. With every anguished beat, it tries to breathe you to the stars; with every broken piece, it tries to replot the constellations.

I am not against it trying to resurrect a dead love but I think it has gotten too much for a sacrifice. In every effort it exerts to win you back, you thrust the dagger deeper, severing it. And the blood that gushes from wounds that refuse to heal is the only proof that it is still fighting.

The wounds are always deeper, the sacrifice, a way too much. But your love is a shallow river. Shallow but it drowned my heart in empty words. I struggled to reach the surface but you pushed me below to meet my doom.

It pains me. Oh it pains me to see my heart staggers as it reaches for your hands that are no longer there. When will it choose to heal? When will it choose to forget you? When will it choose to wake up to the truth that your kiss is a poison, the deadliest in the universe?

I hate to do this. I will forever resent my soul for this plan. But my heart, it needs to rest now as it grows weaker with each passing minute. It spent a lifetime holding you. You gave it a taste of a sunshine but I can't bring myself to say you're worth all the love. Maybe you're not.

So I will end everything tonight. Lawful or not, I feel the necessity of doing it. My heart suffered long enough. And as I lay it to rest, I hope my tears will flow farther than the stream of thoughts it used to run with you, when the sky is bluer than the blues clouding my mind as I whispered my last farewell to my lionheart.

I hope you will be glad.

(Euthanize my heart)

Katie, 23:45

[just-4-thought]

How the colors taste, smell, sound, and feel

Blue - is the taste of water after a sweaty endeavor, so enthralled in a task you were, you'd forgotten how humans crave. The liquid hits your lips and reminds you of thirst at the exact moment it satisfies it. You drink a little too fast and it spills on your cheeks. You wipe away the excess and take a breath, so deep even your muscles sigh. It is the goosebumps that prickle on your arms and neck. It is the exposed skin in winter. It's the feel of your toes when stepping into a pool in summer.

Red - is the smell of dinner in the oven when you are a bit too hungry to wait for it to finish cooking. When you don't want to know another minute without its taste. It is craving the warmth on your lips. Your body vibrates in anticipation. You grit your teeth, clench your muscles, even your mouth seems to salivate. It is the first waft of hot air from a freshly opened oven. It is distant screams that may belong to terror, or is it delight? It is a sting from an insect or a first kiss.

Yellow - is the feel of the sun on your skin on a breezy late-spring day. It's the excitement of intermittent pops of open sky between the marching clouds. It's the little smile you can't help but feel escape the corners of your mouth when your hear the happiness on your best friend's voice as they recount their day. It is the smell of sunscreen and campfire smoke. It is the laughter that hits deep in your stomach.

Green - a mix of yellow and blue - is the sound of the leaves lightly crashing into each other. It is the sound of a room full of people, not speaking, enthralled in their work - keyboards clicking rhythmically, pencils scratching against paper. It is walking down a familiar trail, finding fulfillment in the peaceful forward steps. It is every time we learn and grow. It's 72 degrees underneath the shade of a thick and gnarled tree. The smoothness of a freshly fallen leaf and the stories between the crevices of the bark.

Purple - a mix of red and blue - is the taste of buttercream icing on top of a cupcake. It smells like the mixed fruit aroma of an artificially scented candle. It is the five minute dream between the snooze button and the second alarm - when you know you are asleep but will the last little bits of some nonsense story to play out. Purple is a hug or a pile of unkempt blankets in the first chilly days of fall. It is a purring cat on your lap when your ankles are a bit exposed. Purple is the last grasp of each day and the tender release of night. It is wild and soft and dreamlike.

Orange - a mix of yellow and red - is the feel of steam against your cheeks. It is all the chirping birds gossiping in early summer and the bugs squealing back, trying to win the right to speak. Orange is the moment your feet and arms grow tired, yet you set your jaw firmly in place and fill your muscles with grit. It is warm wax from a recently extinguished candle, it's the crunch of dried leaves beneath your feet in the fall. It is loud and not quite passionate as red or excited as yellow. It is instead a subdued determination.

[mybeautifulbleedingpieces]

Maybe I loved you immediately after we talked for the first time. Maybe I fell too hard like a meteorite but tried to silence the screams of the heart I thought was dead. I don't know. If you ask me when exactly did I fall in love with you, I have no answer. It just happened. Maybe love is supposed to come like a thief in the middle of the night, take your heart and sanity away while you're sleeping.

//

Maybe I fell in love with you that afternoon when it rained so hard, we shared an umbrella that could hardly cover us so we ended up completely drenched. It can also be during that Thursday night when we stopped at 8th Avenue Coffee after enduring a boring lecture. I remember how we started talking about everything while missing the whole point of casting each other gazes that were more intent than necessary. You talked about your lost love and all the reasons why people has to leave. You told me the essence of forgiveness and letting go. I wrote you a poem that night. Each line, a poignant expression of everything I was dying to say to you in person but refused to materialize in my breath when we talk. I promised myself the piece of inked emotions will reach your door somehow. It reached your inbox at dawn. Maybe it was when you called me to say how much you loved it that I let my caged heart fly in frenzy. I am not quite sure.

//

It can also be when you declared we're going to be the "weird friends" at school that my sleeping heart stirred for the first time in a hundred years. Or that night when we took the luxury of time to explore the city in your motorcycle in the midst of cold drizzles. You told me it was the craziest thing you ever did in your life. We stopped at McDonald's for fries and a deadly dose of coffee. Maybe it was when you said if I were a religion, you're willing to convert right away that the fortress I built around me began to crack. I wish I know exactly when I started losing my head over you. But I don't.

//

So I play with the double edged sword that is maybe.

//

Maybe. A word for a room of possibilities. None of which could expunge the myriads of regret that are now hammering inside my head. Maybe I took it too far. I had you in arms length. If I just told you I love you right then and there instead of trying to determine the exact time when I caught this love bug, you could've been mine. However my love, I concerned myself too much with time that I failed to notice you're drifting away from me.

//

So maybe I lost you because I was too particular with time. Or maybe not.

//

-Time, love, and countless maybe's,

Katie, 24:00

[ambroseharte]

In a lost and distant youth.

I was living in a dream, my vision, cloudy, blurred, I thought I was with you, but you were never in my world. I even thought you loved me, and it was my own mistake, all that passed between us, was all glossy bling, and fake. Reality is hard, but reality is truth,  and for a while, I lived a lie, in a lost and distant youth. Memories are precious, in my mind, I will pretend, that our love was pure and genuine; that our love did never end. Ambrose Harte Scattered Thoughts

[smspoetry]

“i turned you to ashes and then placed you on my forehead on a wednesday. i decided to face the light.”

— smspoetry

[leftiswhatgodmademe]

“I’ll ruin every inch of you with every inch of me. You’ve been warned, darling.”

— 15-word something

[vomitingwords]

Sweetie, please keep whatever it is—that truly matters, and let go of what shouldn’t.

Yourself // ma.c.a

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

“I kissed her. She smelled of beer and smoke and April rain.”

— Audre Lorde, from “Zami: A New Spelling of my Name,” published c. 1982

[thatnightstar]

““People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that’s bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they’re afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it. That’s what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you’re letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.””

— Jim Morrison (via naturaekos)

[just-shower-thoughts]

Free Speech gives you the right to say whatever you think but it doesnt free you from the consequences of what you say

[bandaidsfortheheart]

“Do you know how many times I’ve rewritten this poem? Waited all this time to show you my soul. Now we’re here. My pen to your ear. And I have nothing to say.”

— V.P.

[voice-of-a-poet-deactivated2019]

Her Guiding Light

if by chance she loses her focus i yet hold sight of all her dreams as her world rattles and crackles with the white noise of confusion i stand solidly, always by her side her faith in me, so unshakable to see my light, guiding her steps toward the vision of her dreams

Painting by Thomas Barnett