#*poem

[gaybeardedmen]

the day we get nidus lore is the day the devs hire me

[allmyghostslookalike]

Pass my love.

I miss you, now more than any other day

You could be here, right beside me

Holding just my hand and my love in yours

We could be talking here for hours

Something that has been bothering us

Something that caused our drifting away.

And occasionally, when our tears settle on our shoulders,

We can talk about things that are not real

But have a meaning and value that could be captured,

We can make our hearts a gallery of love and benevolence.

But I get a feeling that you don't miss me,

And for you it's just another day

Celebrating existence at a place that's not your home.

All you're holding is a glass full of a drink repeating its complicated pronunciation.

I bet you can't talk about what's bothering you,

Can't think about me in that crowded room

And you don't even realise the pain that I see in your eyes.

I'd say that 'I am here, to hold your fears and your smiles'

Only if we hadn't grown apart,

we both have our stories about the same situation

We tattooed them right on our arms

And now we have different reasons to hold on to the ones that we hold on to.

So dance beneath the shining stars, talk to them if you have to

Write letters to yourself, buy flowers that match your clothes.

Don't worry, darling

You can pass down my love to your monsters who'd never leave

But please don't come back to me,

'cause you need a home and I'm not yours.

Tagging: @sunkissed-ocean @petulanceinaprettyflower @hyacinths-on-my-grave @a-dash-in-the-middle @romqnticstylez @soulisinthesky

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed for my taglist.

[starpros-sunshine]

Hahaha noooo don’t make me do sports I’m so fragile

[1327-1]

ACROSS THE MOOR, a practice poem

[protostxr]

consider: it's late in the night, you're at the edge of the rooftop breathing in his cigarette smoke, and nothing is okay. you're on a schedule and time is ticking and how many more nights like this do you have left? how many more nights will you get to breathe this easy before your shadows catch up to you? he tells you he hates you. with what you're doing to him, he should. it's a far drop down if he pushes you. consider: it's late in the night, you're officially out of time like you always knew you would be, and nothing is okay. he's standing there thinking that you'll go back, he'll drink, you'll burn a cigarette, he'll remind you just how much he hates you. but you don't get to tell him all that's over. you can only hope he gets the message as you disappear. you can only hope, for the first time in your life, that someone will care enough to miss you. was it the inevitability of this that hurt most? the knowledge that one day you'd lose the first real family you ever had? maybe it would've been better if he'd just pushed you.  easier. something sudden would've ached less than the waiting. consider: it's late in the night, you've spilled all the secrets that nearly chased you into your grave, and things might turn out to be okay. one day you'll figure out how to breathe again, somewhere between the cigarette smoke and his heart beating against yours. you'll figure out how to separate the lies from your real life. you'll learn how to talk about it. there will be time.

sunrise, abram. we’ll hold off on the rest // es

[lailadermctt-moved]

COWARD (cow·ard ; /ˈkou(ə)rd/) n. 1. a person who lacks courage 2. a person who lacks the ability to stick up for himself 3. a person who lacks even a single morsel of bravery to face a monster as opposed to following along with every single thing he does like he’s your leader or your king, like this is some kind of goddamn cult or something 4. a person who lacks the guts to face the truth that the queen will always triumph

THE QUEEN // es

[sleepingpillswithenergydrinks]

Radical Infatuation by me

Radical infatuation

This infatuation I have for you is burning in my throat

We dragged it on like an inhale from a cigarette

But for some reason we became each other’s nicotine and you live in the cigarette carton that is an hour away

We used texting as nicotine patches

but that ended up making us feeling like empty lighters

You are stuffed with hormones and a short attention span

That will burn up quickly when I light it but then I have to flick your feelings away and leave you on an ashtray

Then I quit smoking 

You didn’t stop me

You agreed with me because it was slowly killing  us 

I realized I wasn’t addicted to your Nicotine

And your nicotine patches stopped coming