xl

i write shitty poetry and love women what else is there

[ripped-portraits]

struggling with mental illness in your adult years is weird.

for those like me, still afraid to let the world know, you seek out support online.

or in books or poetry or wherever you can get it.

and you feel like it's not exactly for you.

the words of encouragement are just.... not for you anymore. they tell you to think about your parents looking at your bedroom, your teachers finding out, your friends looking at the empty seat at the lunch table, making it to graduation.

and if you're that age please, i'm begging please, listen to that.

but as an adult, it's just weird.

i don't have a bedroom at my parents house anymore. it's a guest room i stay in when visiting. i made it to graduation. i haven't sat at that lunch table in years.

i can't skip school with a fake cold. i can't copy my friends homework because it took everything in me to stay alive again.

we grew up. and i pour my thoughts out late at night only for that alarm to still ring in the morning. i have reports due and a boss to answer to that doesn't care that i was feeling 'a bit down'.

i literally have to file my fucking taxes. my car payment is due. i have an unread message from my landlord.

the words i seek out don't feel the same as they used to.

but this struggle? so eerily similar.

it feels the same as when i was 16. alone and scared. a never ending stream of thoughts i wish i could stop from pouring out of my mind and tightening around my throat. wishing i could disappear and never be seen again.

when i finally lull to sleep, i still wake up. tired with a sore throat and puffy eyes. but i don't pull on a hoodie and go to class late.

i smile. iron my pants. make conversation over bad corporate coffee.

pretend to care about Q1 reports and Q2 goals.

and come home. and put on that hoodie from senior year. and wish it could all be just.

different. xl

[your-gay-grandma]

it is my hope and dream that everyone on tumblr can go outside and visit a gay bar or go to a queer event and see that our community is very beautiful and very diverse and that half the internet discourse isn’t real

[ripped-portraits]

the beautiful innocence of a game

kids yelling and screaming

grass stains on your knees

your best friend being faster than all the boys

you are still a little bit taller than them

you know girls develop faster

a kickball the only thing on our minds

and boys vs girls just meant teams

the heartbreaking truth of a game

teenagers laughing and crying

you learn a whole new meaning to please

that same best friend has new favorite toys

wondering why they don't spare you a glance

you know boys like blondes

you learn what a first heartbreak feels like

and boys vs girls got a lot less fun

the ugly secrets of a game

adults loving and leaving

unfortunately on your knees

your best friend can't even get you to talk

and you wish you were still bigger than them

but you know boys can't control themselves

you feel like a stranger in your own body

and you wish that boy was just an enemy

in a game

xl

[ripped-portraits]

every single like, reblog, comment, or any other sort of engagement makes me smile. every individual one.

this is so especially true on my writing. that's my art. you are telling me you enjoyed something i created. it means the absolute world to me. and i know im not the only one who thinks this.

thank you

[ripped-portraits]

i love poetry

i love good poetry and bad poetry

i love those famous poems everyone knows and the poems that you post that only have 2 likes

i love the ones about happiness and the ones about depression

the ones about nostalgia and first loves and heartbreaks

i love the ones about struggles i'll never understand and the ones about the struggles i face everyday

i love poetry

[ripped-portraits]

there is something funny about getting older

you finally understand the appeal of things you never thought you would

you hated the people in your life when they drank

because they turned into a different person

until you started drinking

to forget the kind of person you are

you swore nothing but a little weed

until a different kind of high suddenly doesn't sound so bad

those vices you grew up watching

the ones you witnessed destroy lives

start calling your name

and you try it

and you love it

because you are older

because you make your own decisions

you make your own rules

you make your own choices

and sometimes, you make the wrong ones

but the wrong ones

feel

so

good

xl

[ripped-portraits]

am i the only one who constantly feels they are right on the edge of falling off the deep end.

not sit in your room and not come out for a couple days deep end.

not miss a couple of days at work deep end.

i'm talking clear out the cabinets

disappear for months

go out kicking and screaming if they find me

that kind of deep end.

just me?

xl

[ripped-portraits]

So you’re telling me coffee and an entire juul pod isn’t a meal ??? Wild

[anorexiaisqueen]

Whenever I search up anything mental health or body related