fatal error

[catcrumb]

[agoraphobe]

[brandishespistols]

When viewing my sense of self and my trauma through the lens of plurality, it becomes easier to grasp this concept and turn it into something I can use to help us both heal.

To conjure the image of this child self, that hurt little girl, and hear her voice - it's easier than you might think now. I can take her tiny hands in our own, our other parts, older siblings to guide her and protect her and wipe away her tears. We can make her smile and show her she's loved. She never has to grow up, because we can do that for her; all she needs to do is be herself, to be a kid.

Now so often when we glimpse her in headspace, she's in a bright yellow silk dress, smiling and dancing, happy to be a little princess and to be free and alive. And because she's being cared for, I can grow up and move forward.

[ratsoupee]

obligatory mourning of the dream of finding true love after society tells you true love will solve all your problems and the crushing reality of realizing you will never really find someone who completes you

[castrotophic]

window- nana grizol

[annafollies]

missing you

[charnel-grounds]

Oskar Zwintscher (1870–1916), “Grief”, 1898

source

[fairydrowning]

– Noor Unnahar, Instagram account "noor_unnahar"

[TEXT ID: / [Lemons] / My father's mother loved lemons. Years after her passing, / we run out of everything, but never / lemons. / Nothing else shelters grief / better than memory. / It's my father way of saying, / even in your absence, you will be / cared by me. / END ID]

[barbelzoart]

going through the motions

[nixscriptum]

[niebowplucach]

ocean vuong you're the only one writer ever

[happyk44]

[Text ID: No one in his life knew he had such a friend until now, until Sergeant Pepper told her. Somebody goes ahead and dies and all of a sudden you become a box for them, he thought, you store these things that no one has ever seen and you go on living like that, your head a coffin to keep memories of the dead alive. But what do you do with that kind of box? Where do you put it down? /end ID]

[mooneyedandglowing]

[poetrydystopian]

"Very early in my life, it was too late."

[opossum-handz]

[weltenwellen]

On Seatbelts and Sunsets Hanif Abdurraqib

[withbriefthanksgiving]

Text ID:

And God, if you are listening, I do worry. God, if you are listening, I count the miles between my body and the body of the person I love and I worry about each of them. God, I worry about the planes we take to each other and the sky that might not hold them. God, I wear seatbelts and visit the graves of my friends in spring to kick away the dirt from winter. God, it is just us talking now, and I worry about everything I can't control. God, can you tell me how much longer I'll get to be alive and in love. God, I am sorry for the times I didn't want to stick around. God, there is a scroll of things I have taken for granted in order to survive this long, and it is endless.

And it is maybe too late to want to live forever after everything I've seen and done. But there are freeways between me and the person I love, God. And I don't have enough time to travel all of them. I worry that I can't bend them all into a giant circle from where I begin to where she begins. God, I don't know what I believe in except the shrinking of distance. God, do you worry about the things you can control? I am enough in love to worry about everything that might cast a shadow over it.

God, I have touched the living face of a person I love with the same hands I have touched the dying face of someone I love and none of that seems fair.

End ID text ID.

[havingapoemwithyou]

Middle age by Jason Shinder

[moondusttown]

[targetedknowledge]

[raygeigrr]