SoulReverie

SoulReserve Reblogs: "I keep what I treasure here...some words, some poems and everything that matters..."  

[lifeseenbyme]

A night with little sleep

I lay awake and ruminate

On all the little missteps from the day before

Regret haunts my consciousness

So I wander down a dark path

One that only leads to grief

Sorrow makes up the marrow of my bones

And life goes on

Because death is too expensive a price to pay

Yet that path, as dark as it is, is far too alluring for a wretched soul like mine

Good thing there are rules to keep me in my proper place

Aching but alive

[spicymochi]

your month, your mini bird wearing a hat!

[spicymochi]

These tiny birds are now sticker sheets in my shop!!

[lil-grimlynn]

VIETNAM HAS MOSS FROGS.

THEY LIVE IN MOSS.

THEY ARE CUTE AS FUCK!

Thank you for coming to my ted talk. Now lets go live the way of the moss frog.

[fancybroom]

[dr-cringe]

[pascalcampion]

Over there

[crmsnmth]

The Person I Almost Became

I still know where he would be tonight

Same bar Same cracked vinyl booth Same cheap drink sweating onto the table while he pretends he isn't waiting for anyone

He'd probably still have her number saved

Probably still walk past her house like the streetlamps might explain why she left

He'd call it nostalgia I'd call it a relapse

Sometimes I find him in stupid places

an old song playing through a gas station speaker a cigarette burning down between my fingers the smell of rain on Milwaukee pavement a jacket I haven't worn in years

For a second I'm twenty-something again angry enough to mistake it for purpose lonely enough to mistake anyone's attention for love

I remember the things I swore I'd never become

And then I remember I became them anyway

Not all at once

There was no dramatic transformation no lightning strike no morning where I woke up and realized I'd ruined everything It happened quietly

One bad night One more drink One more apology One more time believing this time would be different

Until eventually the person I was becoming started answering to my name

I hate him sometimes

Mostly because I understand him He was trying to survive with whatever he had

He just didn't know survival was supposed to lead somewhere

I wish I could sit beside him

I wouldn't tell him everything gets better I don't know if that's true

I'd just tell him to look up To notice the morning when it finally comes

To understand that leaving the burning house doesn't mean you weren't foolish for lighting the match

It means you left

And maybe that's the strangest thing about getting older

You don't become the person you imagined You just keep meeting people you almost were

and realizing

They don't live here anymore

[throatoftheworld]

ketzal_coatl

[melodramas]

photos by the artemis ii crew

[gabblewritessometimesdeactivated]

Orion

Held up in the stars. A blur

Of colour, gradually

Forming, exposed.

How can something so beautiful,

Something so ecstatic and bursting

Be far? In our reach

Yet elusive.

Reach up to the sky,

Holding the ground still. We

Can reach you, Orion.

We’re here. So human.

Photo credit to nasa, I guess? I took it directly from the wiki site. 

[thejournalofbisonjack]

A Poem’s Wants

.

A poem wants

to be a photograph

in the same way

a photograph wants

to be a painting

and a painting wants

to be a song that

wants to be a love letter

in the same way

a love letter wants

to be a poem.

[cherokeeghostwriter]

[cherokeeghostwriter]

you've been saying goodbye since the day we met. going from one uncomfortable encounter on to the next -a trail of ashes, where only memory should linger. i've struggled to salvage something of us, -something of you in these miserable remains. a line or two of a carelessly discarded friendship, falling from your pocket, as you flee this pyre- sorrow, grasping at your heels.

[cherokeeghostwriter]

Sunset through the trees. Waterloo AL.

[cherokeeghostwriter]

This morning leaving Waterloo.

[cherokeeghostwriter]

stardust

whittling my desires down. culling unnecessarily. losing fingers in the process, -it's, a process -it's a close cut to the quick, desperation dodging despair.

i'm all that's left. well, me and these unusable puzzle pieces. these snippets, cast as past lives, and perilous seas. my conceit, sprinkled with stardust.

what is it about a blank page, that troubles me so. where do all of these words come from? more importantly, where do they go. a bit or a byte. a feeling converted into a digital signature, as blank as my expression, and half as legible.

[cherokeeghostwriter]

soft as regret

somehow, i find myself in belgium, photographing chestnut trees.

not on purpose- not with a plan- but as if drawn, by some quiet gravity, to these narrow streets and onto this vacant square -shaded like a held breath.

i get lost, not dangerously so, just enough to forget what I was looking for -and there they are chestnut trees impossibly still blossoming, with all the time in the world.

i raise my camera, not to remember- but because something in me needs to hold what has already been expressed.

in may, they bloom. -and i bloom.

the shutter clicks soft as regret.

[cherokeeghostwriter]

yearning for sunlight

it’s that time again. each year you arrive with the seasons turning, history clinging to a specific set of days, prompting me to face -thoughts of you, -painful, and uninvited.

your memory comes like a traveler seeking mercy, pockets weighted down, earnest -and late. these Septembers peel themselves away, layer by layer, each, an unacknowledged bruise, -yearning for sunlight.

remembrance -lies folded in the gutters of October, slipped beneath piles of amber and bone- Autumn leaves, keeping secrets from the cold. i rake them into small cairns, to mark each passing.

[purplemonkeysexgod69]