#moonlitpoems

[moonlitpoems]

i never really understood what people meant when they said cities were unforgiving. i live in a city right now for the first time. i’m surrounded by millions of people but i’ve also never felt so alone. the cobblestone streets lead go everywhere but take me nowhere. what it would feel like to breathe in fresh air that hasn’t been choked out by dozens of people, to sit in a cozy chair by the window and have a view other than that of the grey sky and grey buildings and grey river. what it would feel like to be home again.

[theidealistdilettante]

At 20

We've all got stories to tell. At 20 years, I've got plenty. I'm sure we all do have lots of 'em. Some of them are happy, some sad, some quite interesting, some may be painful. Oftentimes there are these moments in life that will make you wonder if your life is actually going in the right direction, or if it ever will. In these moments, there are these people that give you feelings you never thought could exist---it's like they've created a whole new universe of emotions stirring inside your heart. Some of these people come for just a day, or maybe they last a week or a month; some stay forever, some say goodbye two times and never come back. They make you feel special and create within you wells of feelings that give you quite the very best moments you'll treasure dearly. And sometimes, those who leave you on the second day or the second week, or the fifth month, well, they usually are the ones who give such a lasting impact that you carry on for the rest of your life. Their goodbyes make you cry for several nights, and on some unexpected times when you stumble upon a song or a film that reminds you of relationships that could have been furnished, or of moments that could have brought upon a smile on your face. A million times, you will cry for them. Then, you regret the choices that you did and you didn't make. And that, my dear, makes life more beautiful than it actually is. These choices you regret, the people you meet and those who leave, and the moments that you can remember---these are the things that add plenty of color in life, adding a bit of bright reds and pinks and greens here and there. It's undeniable that you'll have heartaches, but you know what? Life goes on. I didn't know who specifically said that, but it sort of gives meaning to everything that had happened to me so far. In every goodbye, and every heartbreak, in every pain and tragic turnarounds, what happened is that life just continued to go on. And long as you live, it will continue to do so. So, cheers to everyone who just had two decades of their life finished. You've got lots of moments and stories to tell, and now is your time to share it to the world. Now is the perfect time to start living.

Art by: Nikita Ermakov

Words by: Spencer Martin Keats

[every-word-written]

I am more yours than I have ever been my own.

Little notes

[rosyglowgirl]

secrets scurry from the tip of my tongue
as my lips unfurl to welcome you-
a worn red carpet for all your unflinching eminence,
once familiar with your affections;
the distinct disparities of your metamorphosis disturb me
and i turn away from your visage
am i so incapable of adjusting 
to your persona’s amendments? 
and so my discomfort denies us each other’s company:
i blindly follow my past patterns of withdrawing from conversation at the slightest sign of rejection,
and find myself ruefully resenting your ability to grow
after all, i am always irreversibly rooted in 
the same places i regret allowing into my system 
the same way i always lose myself in the memories of people 
i am no longer capable of loving.

Resentment Remains My Refuge (May 25th)

[theidealistdilettante]

Someday, your leaving will make sense, and I will finally be able to let you go. It has to.

Spencer Martin Keats, Day 30

[theidealistdilettante]

Pain inevitably comes after love, no matter how perfect it might be. It's like the rainbow after the rain, only with darker colors, and to some, bloody, but grim to most. It's like the production of sound from vibrating things, or the ink released upon bringing the tip of the pen over a paper, guided by motion, like everything else in the universe. I mean, it's natural, it's for certain, a 100 percent statistical probability, already predetermined by unknown cruel forces. Pain comes after love—now that's a fact I needed to hear upon spending a wonderful evening with you, a fact that I needed to live with long as I'm in love with you.

Spencer Martin Keats, Day 31

[every-word-written]

The ribs are an abandoned warehouse Where flowers have grown wild Little yellow and white ones Raised, nourished and blatantly defiled.

little notes

[every-word-written]

Strange mind

I have a strange mind of stranger times Shameless is my speech Conscious of my bodily crimes. I drift like a leaf of Autumn’s fall Wired black, white and colorless No sound made, no noise, no call. I am the true fear you bury in you heart The anarchy you want to let loose So tell me, when do we start?