Jul 6
I LOVEYOU
OMG HI I LOVE YOU TOO
seen from Germany
seen from Switzerland
seen from Germany
seen from Serbia
seen from Italy
seen from Türkiye
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Switzerland
seen from China
seen from Nigeria
I LOVEYOU
OMG HI I LOVE YOU TOO
Before It Bloomed
You liked me too fast, like striking a match, Like I was a flame you were aching to catch. You spoke in a way that made space feel tight, Like I had to stay, like I owed you my light.
And maybe you didn’t mean harm in the start, But I felt your hands learning maps of my heart. Not gently, no more like you’d claim what you found, Like roots digging deep without asking the ground.
You called it a bond, something rare, something real, But I know the ending of things that you feel. I’ve lived through the ruin of being “the one,” I’ve carried the weight when the loving is done.
And you You would’ve stayed till I shattered in two, Then asked me why breaking was something I’d do. You’d say I was distant, confusing, unkind, While I’d be unlearning the shape of my mind.
So I cut it off early, yes maybe too soon, Like killing a song in the middle of June. Because I have heard how this melody goes, It sweetens you first, then it quietly corrodes.
You think I was cold, like I left you for pride, Like I didn’t care that you stood there, wide-eyed. But I saw the version of you I can’t save, The one who turns love into something that caves.
And I I am not strong enough, not anymore, To be someone’s answer, then something they mourn. So I buried the start before it could bloom, Because I have lived in that ending, it ruins.
Call me a coward, or cruel, or unfair, Say I made ghosts out of something still there. But I chose the cut that was shallow and clean, Not the one that would hollow you out in between.
Hi solace again you are one of my newer mutuals and so you will not have been around ever for my mutual appreciation nights
I love you so much and I'm so glad for mutuals I genuinely adore you so much I appreciate talking with you and our personal conversations in private messages and just even as simple as talking about our days I always feel like you genuinely care and it's so lovely to talk to you I appreciate you for listening to me talk especially when I go on little tangents I'm so happy that I met you you are genuinely one of the best writers I've ever read the emotion that you're able to convey astounds me every single time I read one of your pieces I also really admire the fact that you take asks and are able to help other people find the words for the emotions that they're feeling when they might not necessarily feel like they can I genuinely find it so admirable and lovely of you
I just adore you so much you're such a kind person I don't know how to describe exactly what you are to me just very open very calm I feel very safe with you I feel like you genuinely care and you genuinely understand where I'm coming from when I talk about certain things and I always feel so safe around you and I know that was a lot of I wording and that was slightly selfish of me but genuinely do so much for me and I really appreciate it
I love you so so so much okay mwah <333 I appreciate you to the moons
Okay hi, first of all, forgive my delay, I swear I’ve been trying to answer all day. I wanted each line to come out just right, Something deserving of you and your light.
I wrote down ten drafts, maybe twenty, maybe more, Little midnight rambles scattered over the floor. And when I had finished what I thought was the best, I DELETED IT ALL. so now I’m distressed 🥹
But honestly maybe no words could compete With a person like you who makes existence sweet. Like how are you real? Explain it to me. What ritual summoned you perfectly?
Why would you write all this for me? I’ve read it so much I can barely see. I’m sitting here crying, rereading each line, Wondering how someone this lovely is somehow mine.
And maybe you think I don’t deserve such care, But your words felt like warmth in cold midnight air. So if I seem shattered, it’s only because You wrote me the kind of love people dream of.
You love Red Hood, dinosaurs, snails, old Bollywood scenes, The coolest collection of interests I’ve seen. And every small fact that falls out when you speak Has me staring in awe like a fool every week.
Your brain is a library, strange and divine, And somehow you chose to be mutuals with mine. Which still shocks me deeply because bro, let’s be fair, Why do you even talk to me out of nowhere 😭
And your PHOTOGRAPHY??? actually criminal too. Every picture looks painted, like what do you DO??? I open your posts and just blink at my screen Like “oh so they casually create masterpieces unseen.”
And your makeup skills??? don’t get me STARTED there. You touch one eyeliner and suddenly art appears. Meanwhile I’d attempt it and look slightly cursed, You do it so well it just makes me feel worse.
Also I think I deserve some type of prize For decoding your typos at impossible times. At this point just call me omnidecipherer please, I translate your keyboard like ancient histories.
And even though I don’t know every fandom you love, Or each artist you keep all your playlists full of, I want to learn all of them, every detail you bring, So we can both fangirl and scream over things.
Because talking to you feels gentle and bright, Like sitting on rooftops at two in the night. You make people feel safe just by being near, And somehow you always make kindness feel clear.
Everyone loves you and honestly? valid. Your soul is gold stitched into human fabric. You care in a way that feels patient and true, And the world’s so much softer because it has you.
You are silly and brilliant and endlessly kind, The sort of rare person people ache to find. And sometimes I sit there completely confused That someone this lovely would choose to be mutuals.
And if life gets heavy or days turn to grey, Or you simply need someone to listen and stay, Come rant, come yap, send ten texts in a row, I’ll be here like “go on.” because I want to know.
Tell me your spirals, your fandom lore too, The things that make absolutely no sense but to you. Whether fandom spirals or tears at 2 a.m., Whether life feels messy or hope’s feeling thin,
I’ll be here beside you through all the hard parts too, Because you matter to me more than you probably knew. I’ll listen each time, whether small things or deep, Because people like you are the kind that I keep.
Thank you for every conversation we’ve shared, For every late-night tangent proving you cared. For existing at all in this strange little place, And making the world feel a little less fake.
Thank you for staying, for listening too, For every small moment I’ve gotten with you. I love you so much, more than words can track, To Kepler-452b and infinitely back <333
how teeny tiny are you?
idk i think this much??? 🤏🏻
okay i have another one....
*clearing throat* there's more than one hell and you're my favorite kind
No idea how you're gonna turn that into a poem, but i trust you <3
My Favorite Kind of Damnation
They warned me once of fire and brimstone skies, Of screaming souls and endless, aching cries, Of devils carved from wrath and sharpened sin But never of the hell you pull me in.
Because yours doesn’t burn with crimson flame, It whispers soft, it calls me by my name, It wears your voice, your laugh, your wicked grin And lures me deeper just to let me in.
There’s more than one hell, I’ve come to learn Not all of them are places where you burn, Some feel like heaven wrapped in fragile skin Until you realize you’re trapped within.
If you look upon your devil dressed in love, You’ll swear his hands were sent from up above, He’ll guide you gently, blind you well enough To make his hell feel just like heaven’s touch.
And you… God, you’re my favorite kind of pain, The kind I’d crawl through ruin for again, A velvet noose, a sweet, intoxicating spell The only hell I’d ever choose… is yours to dwell.
So let the others fear the dark below I’ve found a place far worse, and still won’t go, If damnation means your fingers in my soul Then take it all, I never wanted whole.
Because if I must fall, if I must dwell In something cruel, addictive, beautiful as hell Then let me rot where all my senses fell apart In the quiet, endless haunting of your heart.
Um can you stop being such an attention seeking bitch
No one here actually wants to listen to your "depressed" thoughts. Better to just kys
You good? Need a snack? A nap? A hobby?
'Not Yet,’ He Whispered, ‘But I Hear You’
In the quiet of a graveyard’s breath, we sat on rusted swings that creaked. A pair of magpies watched us speak, their wings like secrets, sharp and sleek.
I whispered to the shadowed man, “I’m tired… can I rest with you?” He sighed like ancient forests do, “Child, tell me who has lied to you.”
I reached for him with shaking hands, the night pressed heavy on my chest. He stepped back softly, almost blessed, “You’re far too young to seek my rest.”
My tears fell fast, a breaking storm, “I just… I don’t know what to be.” His voice turned warm as winter seas, “You’re hurting, not meant to come to me.”
He knelt beside my trembling frame, no scythe, no cold, no final breath. Just gentle eyes that softened, left a kindness rarely tied to Death.
“You don’t need endings,” he told me then, “You need a place your heart feels seen.” He brushed my tears like falling rain, “The dark you feel is not your dream.”
I leaned on him, a quiet pause, no wish for fading, just release. He held me with a patient peace, “Stay. The world still owes you peace.”
And in that hush, that silver night, his gaze fell soft — almost afraid.
For all this time, I thought I longed for peace no living soul could save, believing I just craved, at last, an ending written in the grave
when all he saw was someone lost, mistaking hurt for something final, a tired child reaching out for rest, instead of ruin.
how loneliness can ache like frost, how being unseen feels like a loss that buries you while you still live.
He looked at me as if to give the gentlest truth I’d ever known: that sometimes what we ache for most is simply proof we’re not alone, and realizing that hurt me more than anything I’d come here for.
How to Write A Poem (pt. 2)
I write because my voice grows shy, and truth slips out when pages lie; the words I choke on face-to-face find courage in a safer place.
Poetry is the hush inside, the truths we’re scared to let collide; the whispered things we never said now blooming where the ink has bled.
We all arrive from different roads, some carried joy, some carried loads; some came through fire, some through rain, some wrote to breathe, some wrote from pain.
Some learned to rhyme to feel in sync, some only spoke through pen and ink; and some of us were just hoping to find a quiet corner in the mind.
And writing is strange, some days it flows, some days the stubborn silence grows; but forcing it will snap the thread, I learned you write the best you can by being less of who you plan, so breathe, and write the thing you meant not what you think you “should’ve” said.
when your voice feels locked and tight, when nothing in your chest feels right, don’t reach for stars you can’t ignite. Just write the bruise, the wound, the fight; write what you’d tell the dark at night.
Write every fear you’re scared they’ll see, write every hope you think is “me”? too small, too much, too raw to be.
And if someone thinks your words are weak? Oh darling… let them try to speak. Half the things you thread in rhyme would break their spine if said in time.
Your path is messy, yours alone, a map of scars and dreams unknown; and every line you dare to carve is proof you’re trying hard to starve the quiet hurting in your bone.
And darling, every verse you start is not just art; it’s you choosing, once again, to stitch your shaking heart.