#angst**

[bakatenshii]

Sorry I’m so stupid by nostalgia do u just mean like...memories or is it angst

hmmm a bit of both! i feel like with the memories comes that bittersweet feeling whenever you reminisce about the past, but nostalgia also makes for the best best beeeest angst (or soft angst!) so BOTH!

[chaos-family-scp-au]

*Wants to write SCP fic but has no ideas-*

Ohno- uhh I dunno maybe make some 0413 angst??

[lizzyisameme]

trista mateer poetry sentences (ii)

Trista Mateer is an American writer and poet. She won the Goodreads Choice Award in 2015 for poetry with The Dogs I Have Kissed. I have seen a lot of quotes of her writing on tumblr and I think her writing is absolutely phenomenal. If you want to support her writing—much of which is free online—check out her online store which features physical chapbooks and other items, or her patreon/ko-fi. The Dogs I Have Kissed and Honeybee can also be found as ebooks on Amazon.

This sentence meme uses quotes that I’ve sourced online. Adjust sentences as needed, but remember where it comes from! And if you can, please support!  

For more poetry sentence memes. For more Trista Mateer poetry sentences.

  —LIZZY  

I’m not sorry. I’m doing the right thing. I swear I’m doing the right thing. 

I have absolutely no doubts about walking away from you. 

This is the best thing. This is for the best. I have to do this. 

I am bad for you and sometimes you are bad for me and this isn’t working anymore. Nothing is working anymore. 

I don’t know how to talk to you without feeling like nothing I have to say is important enough or wise enough or good enough. 

I don’t feel good enough anymore. You don’t make me feel good enough anymore. I don’t make you feel good anymore. 

I have to do this. I have to do this. Please don’t pretend you didn’t feel this coming on. We’ve been circling the drain for months now. 

We both have things to do and we tried doing them together but it just doesn’t work. We just don’t work anymore. I know we used to. I swear we used to. 

I have to do this. I want things you disapprove of and you want things that I cannot give you. 

You still have time to do all of the things you want to. I promise. You just have to let me step out of the way. 

I have to do this. I have to. I have to get the fuck out of here. 

Nobody is in love with me and everything is still warm. Still soft. 

Love that needs to be weighed down in order to stay is not love. 

When I was packing to leave, I took the curtains down and let light into our bedroom for the first time in months. It almost looked like nothing bad happened there.

Hey, is your ex-boyfriend Rome? because everything leads back to him.

My heart is buzzing again. My heart is a wasp’s nest. My heart is a monument to absence.

I put my regret into a box and write FREE TO A GOOD HOME on the side of it.

What is in me, is in you. And I’m sorry for it. And I’m not sorry for it.

I love you and I still wonder if someone else could love me better.

There is a woman in our bed and I think she is supposed to be me, but she rarely ever feels like me.

It passes for intimacy the way almost anything passes for water when the well’s run dry or you’ve misplaced the river.

Who taught you that love is only good until it’s opened? Who told you that it spoils? Why did you take it so literally?

I wanted to be the place you put everything down, but it’s okay if I’m not.

You needed to love something other than yourself to feel alive and it wasn’t me. 

I don’t know how our bodies got so used to the space between them.

I keep trying out different ways to say goodbye. Not to you. Because we already did that. But to us. To the idea of us.

I read somewhere that it’s okay to miss people even if you don’t want them in your life anymore; and I hope that’s true. I hope everything I feel is okay. 

Tonight I kissed three people on the mouth because I still don’t know what you taste like.

I feel like I am always two parts tequila, one part longing.

We outgrew each other in angry uncoordinated ways. 

It is so easy to make monsters out of the people I have loved. 

Tell me that you have been dreaming of me. That you wake up in cold sweats, gulping in air.

It would be a shame to look back on this and (out of bitterness) not call it love. 

Today I accidentally told someone that I love you. 

She does not remind me of anything; everything reminds me of her. 

I’m not sure I even know how to let you go. 

[lizzyisameme]

trista mateer poetry sentences (i)

Trista Mateer is an American writer and poet. She won the Goodreads Choice Award in 2015 for poetry with The Dogs I Have Kissed. I have seen a lot of quotes of her writing on tumblr and I think her writing is absolutely phenomenal. If you want to support her writing---much of which is free online---check out her online store which features physical chapbooks and other items, or her patreon/ko-fi. The Dogs I Have Kissed and Honeybee can also be found as ebooks on Amazon.

This sentence meme uses quotes that I’ve sourced online. Adjust sentences as needed, but remember where it comes from! And if you can, please support!   

For more poetry sentence memes. For more Trista Mateer poetry sentences.

   ---LIZZY  

My hands are still shaking from nights spent not knowing how to want you.

I’m sorry that I am back and forth, push and pull instead of effortless simplicity.

I hope one day somebody loves you so much that they do not waste their time trying to fix you.

Sometimes I think I resented you so much it felt like love.

I will greet you with a mouth full of barbed wire until you learn to stop coming after me with your hands.


Don’t you ever let another human being tear you apart.

I still remember you as a little girl who overwaters plants because she doesn’t know when to stop giving.

I do not tell her that sometimes it feels like compromising yourself is part of growing up. 

I loved her more than I loved you and I’m sorry that you knew it. 

You are still the first person I want to share new things with.

Hurt me once: shame on me. Hurt me twice: shame on me. Hurt me three times: shame on me but fuck you. 

Hurt me four times and we’ll get severed-head biblical.

Can we say goodbye again? I miss the way you rip me open.

I still have a lot of growing to do and I know there is more room for it in your absence.

Some people are born flight risks. It is not your fault that they cannot seem to stand in place. They are not leaving you; they are just leaving.

And now that I am older, I don’t give a damn about sin. I will be the first to cast one.

I’d suck salt off your fingers
 like a fucking animal.


I spend too much time thinking about fucking you.

In a parallel universe or another world or a different life, we sit across from each other at the kitchen table and go over the grocery list. 

I know that I am lucky to be alive at the same time as you, but I also know that you are more afraid of opening up than losing me.

I know that it’s reaching but I just want to leave your name on a page somewhere and never need to come back to it. 

I have grown into this cruel thing with running shoes, comfortable only when I lock myself away.

I don’t know what it is in me that yearns to be the lifeboat that people throw themselves at when they are drowning.

I want you to know that it is okay not to love me.

You are not the first person who found it a little too tough, who took two steps back when my jaws started snapping. 

I swear that you’re not missing anything if you run the wrong way when I hold out my hands. 

[bobbedrake]

im in the mood to make black sails gifsets so get ready for some angst