thepoetryexorcist

spilled ink thoughts written out •

[thepoetryexorcist]

deep shit from my brain

oh, and quotes.

[thepoetryexorcist]

I am too much like my father for comfort.

[thepoetryexorcist]

I know I've locked myself in my room—but I'll open up the door... and try to love again soon.

[thepoetryexorcist]

Everytime I think I've healed, I pick the wound back open.

[thepoetryexorcist]

People find so much comfort in their cowardice that they'll make a home in it.

[thepoetryexorcist]

You unlocked a part of me I had no idea existed- a profound vulnerability I'd never known I could feel. A love so deep I'd never known I could feel that much, let alone feel it for one person. You held the key in your palm. I didn't let you have it- you took it, and I was powerless to stop you. Nevertheless, you opened the door. It belonged to you. When you left, you took the key with you. It sat somewhere in your basement while I picked up the shattered pieces of myself, moulding them back into some semblance of a person. The key grew cold without the warmth of your palm, unlike when you'd hold it with all the care and love in your warm hands. It sits there, growing old and rusted, while the door you unlocked slowly closes the only way it knew how, stitching the wound back together and sealing you out. The door is closed. The key won't work again. You have it, but it won't work. It never will. Not anymore.

[thepoetryexorcist]

And why do we keep apologizing for moving on?

[thepoetryexorcist]

My mother is the most beautiful in her natural state. Her mouth wide in a sweet, crooked smile, laughter filling the air like the warmth of home flooding into my blood. She holds in her arms, struggling to carry the amount of love she has for us. Her heart, struggling to hold the pain she's endured to get all the way here. She cradles our dog closest, holding him to her chest like he'll slip away the way we did. She doesn't know that I'd never push her attempts away. My mother, the strongest person I've ever known, and the most self-doubt filled person I've ever known. She deserves the world and more. She is my home.

[thepoetryexorcist]

But my fingers are blue gripping memories of you.

[thepoetryexorcist]

𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞— 𝐈 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐭𝐨𝐨.

[thepoetryexorcist]

Today, I sat beside someone. We were less friends, more acquaintances. I sat beside them, where, in the past, I had sat beside you. They looked nothing like you, nor did they act like you. I was tired, you know? My eyes drooped. I grew tired of looking away from the searing eyes of those who'd wronged me, who I'd wronged. I shifted a moment still. There was someone beside me. My instinct was to let my head lower on their shoulder, right into the crook of their neck. It startled me, that feeling. It wasn't because of them. I barely knew them. In fact, I have a feeling they may not even like me. It was you. Sometimes it still feels as though you're here, or you're just one call away, one push of a door away from me. The ghost of you still flickering in and out of places we once shared. It felt like that, in this moment. It was almost muscle memory for me. I contemplated asking them if I could, but I knew we weren't like that. I don't think I ever will be, with anyone else. I just wished it was you. I left the bus with a sore neck.

[nixscriptum]

annotated love pt. II : from the archives of yearning.

[thepoetryexorcist]

I miss who I was when I was with you.

[thepoetryexorcist]

𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧.

—ɢᴏʟᴅᴇɴ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ, ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢʟᴇʀꜱ

[thepoetryexorcist]

𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎...

I wanna be with you.

—ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴄʜʟᴏᴇ ᴍᴏʀɪᴏɴᴅᴏ

[dragon-in-a-fez]

so much of the human experience is just moving water around

[thepoetryexorcist]

so much of the living is the being unknown

[thepoetryexorcist]

Not every piece of art is magnificent, but it is art.