untitled remembrances

A blog dedicated to those heartwrenching moments in which words essentially fail to explain a thing at all.

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— Joseph Brodsky, Hope Against Hope: A Memoir

[untit1ed]

The distance made it necessary for me to confront how I really felt about you. And oh, boy. You hit me harder than I expected. Since the first time I saw you, I have loved you. I went home that very summer evening and wrote about how I felt different, and that your eyes had a hold on me and that I wanted to know more about what was behind those chocolate eyes and that cocky, beautiful smile. If I only knew that I was the one to become weak in the knees; that my heart couldn’t handle all the beauty you are. Would I have protected myself better? Stayed away?

It’s difficult to tell. All I know is that my heart is still beating for you, and I’m trying to figure out how to gently ask it not to.

[untit1ed]

19th of January 2026

Like a whisper; like if I do not say it aloud it will not be real: I think I love you, and that absolutely terrifies me. I lie at night looking up at the ceiling and praying for the strength to be worthy of you - to be worthy of your heart; to be worthy of your smile; to be worthy of your hands; your eyes, your breath. I am a mere mortal, but you ignite a light in my soul that feels older. Like the affection I feel for you is powerful and ancient, and not just something a 20s-something woman is able to feel accidentally. It makes me stronger and softer at the same time. Thoughtful and more in tune with my feelings at the same time. My discernment comes not from whether I can have you, but whether I’m able to hold you rightly, being broken and fragile from being loved wrongly for too long. For not understanding what love is.

I pray I’m wiser. I pray I learn how to treat you like the divine man you are.

[untit1ed]

Love is a fickle thing. Especially when you grow up, and it comes clear to you that reality was obscured. Drama, passion and intensity was never the materials meant to last. Instead, the small quiet voice telling me in the back of my head to be patient - to listen, to understand. The ability and intent to continuously doubt my doubts before I doubt you - it’s less carnal, less Hollywood romance, nothing that would impress on the big screen. But it impresses me.

This gentleness, this soft tender intuition. It feels purer, it feels raw. Genuine. I look at myself in the mirror and genuinely feel like a better person. Noticing the small details, not just the moles on your skin, but the reflection of people’s smiles mirrored back to me on the public transport. The silent approval of the nightlit sky, as we walk home with a pizzabox and our hands intertwined. Oh, how the slow burn indulges me in your flames. I feel so much warmer.

[untit1ed]

Been a minute. I had to take a break. So much darkness in here. So much heartbreak that I crammed down on a broken lit up phone screen, blurring vision with my tears. This has more or less turned into an archive of my deepest sorrows, and melancholic moments of silence filling echos of my past.

I’m a changed person now. So much more filled with positivity and warmth. I’m excited to use this blog to show more of that side of me 🥰

[enlaniakea]

The rain writes poetry on my window ☂︎⋆.°·☁︎

[untit1ed]

Am I giving dark academica? (Listening to The Secret History by Andrew Skeet on repeat until I am)

[professor-winter]

ꜱᴛʀᴀᴛᴇɢɪᴄ ꜱᴛᴜᴅʏɪɴɢ

[untit1ed]

Lights flickering in the city, blurred from the teardrops forming in the inner corners of your eyes. Does it makes sense to talk about love, when he maybe never felt it?

He said he did. But I doubt from his actions and his current recklessness that he ever felt the depth of longing so roaringly creaking within me. The heartbeat pulsating so violent in my chest whenever I touched his skin. The constant urge to nurture, support and tend for him and help him achieve his dreams. I feel both appalled and curious about my inner clockworks, how can an entire spectrum of light be felt like a movie passing by, whenever I speak his name or think of his lips? So inconvenient and uncontrolled a force that I'm in awe of its brute powers over me. So I lay again in the dark of night watching the city nights flicker by wishing things were different

[untit1ed]

You know it hurts. And yet you try to pretend it doesn't. You know it kills you everytime. And yet you press on, as if unaffected even existed in your vocabulary. Is it courage if it feels ridiculous and naive? Or do I just never learn

[sunforgrace]

oh i get it now! what happened fundamentally and irrevocably changed me forever

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

"Maybe the problem with love these days is that someone says they love you, and you just wonder how long for." - J.L. Johnson

[shakespearesdaughter]

Me every sunday

[miss-mademoiselle]

me every day

[untit1ed]

Like soft spoken words, gliding off my tongue, barely even whispered before I feel you listening. Attentively, making my words matter just because they're mine. The little things, like how deeply I feel your pulse rise when you see my messages, and how I imagine you right there on the other side of my fingertips smiling, making my knees week. How bad I want to taste your lips and how I already feel thankful for the way you understand me. Flickering pictures of me kissing you before we even had our first hello, our hands finding each other as if they always knew. Old souls, recognizing each other, it seems. I must have known you before this life.

[daweyt]

— Frank Bidart, from “Half-light: Collected Poems 1965-2016; ‘The Third Hour of the Night’", published c. 2017.

[pubertad]

Truth Coming Out of Her Well to Shame Mankind, 1896 by Jean-Léon Gérôme

[untit1ed]

Honestly think she needs to come back to finish her job

[gustaving]

From Palestinian poet Najwan Darwish

[gothsbian]

i hope this is alright for me to add, but this poem references a line from one of hitler's speeches ordering the genocide of polish jews. at the end of the speech, he justified the genocide by saying "who, after all, speaks today of the annihilation of the armenians?" in a very literal way, genocides are interconnected and used to justify one another. after all, the holocaust was partially modeled after the united states' genocide of indigenous people. this is why it is so important to remember the victims of all genocides across history, and why it is so important for oppressed peoples to stand together in solidarity.