Your arms became my grave @wheremybonesrest - Tumblr Blog

11/21/16

It’s been awhile.

You met him 3 days later, no idea of the joy and havoc your love would wreak. A beautiful chaos, a burning desire to monopolize. He was your everything, if only for a while- and still it was worth everything.

nemfrog

trip out of town

#photography

Tumbles & Falls

And for us, it was two people falling down the rabbit hole.

Tumbling one foot after another, eyes flitting and nervous laughter filling the space between our skin.

#poem #spilled poetry #poetry #spilled ink

11/21/16

It's been awhile.

A Limerence with Abuse

Maybe it was the way you liked your drinks. Iced and cheap almost as if sandpaper was running down your throat. I always liked a man who held his liquor but 7 months in I realized you couldn't even grip your temper. You'd grab my wrists; you'd say you love me. I'd cry in the bathroom, you told me to shut up. On the nights you'd empty syringe tubes into your arm, I hid my heart on my sleeves because .6 oz shot glasses replacing your blood with whiskey cheaper than your words would almost make me forget that you’re the one I'm supposed to love with, not this bottle. The purple bruises you left blossomed over my thin wrists and grew into a spiraling garden of purples: lilacs, iris’, tulips. And even after you ripped off my petals, we both knew I wouldn't move my face from the dirt it was smothered in, even if I tried. You dug my grave and left me under my own flowers. I have never found death to be so beautiful until you came along. -m.vt

#poetry #poem #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #love #heartbreak #an analogy about abusive relationships

fungalnest

When we kissed, I didn’t realize the color of love was so black and twisted until I opened my eyes and saw yours looking back into mine.

What we did & the regrets

#poem #poetry #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #heartbreak

jacb

cohziest

☣

stop rotting my teeth whenever we kiss. stop burning cigarettes and love letters I write you only because you like how it makes you taste like smoke and sweets.

I’m starting to hate the cavities you’re leaving.

#portry #prompt #spilled thoughts #spilled ink #idk #my writing is deteriorating

and if no one imagined all the complexities, all the imperfections in this life staring into our in eyes, how can we expect to pass a meaningful, no, enticingly correct judgement upon others? Aren’t we humans clouded in our minds by the blooming poison of what we call “home”? the luxuries of advancement or the dematerialization of the developing mind; the latter to the second is a tepid decision. if chosen, should we not therefore strive to learn the basic necessities of survival rather then depend on expendable products? Unknowing of North, West, East or South can metaphorically leave ones sense of direction, being, and soul lost in limbo. If chosen, and extended to this point by acceptation of the masses, are the people still able to consider themselves “living”? Routine is a breakless cycle. But in regards to routine, isn’t it inevitable? aren’t we all in some cosmic plan to replay mistakes and create temporary promises over and over? up there above the atmospheres fuzzy glare, is there not a bearded God observing our every breath? why do humans excusably need (to the point of death) religion? into closer evaluation, isn’t religion simply a way of negating the truth (truth being a painfully ominous inevitability)? To fill the unanswered question of death, do humans not seek, search, and die to feel like there will be something after their biological clock stops ticking? what else does religion offer besides a false reassurance of the black that accompanies eternal slumber? or Is death perhaps an already experienced event? could I, we, you, be dead? what makes this reality any more real than what we see in our dreams? this reality, this experience, is it truly what the ignorance of humans believe? The cycle through death, life, and the extremities residing between, could it really all be some cosmic mans plan? who could really say.

#thoughts #philosophy #rant #coffee #wtf did I do last night to write this

when i was younger my momma never told me to play with fire but i always loved the way the flames warm your skin when it's cold, dark and desolate outside. i guess in a way, you became my warmth when i needed it most, when i thought i was going to coalesce into the cold blackness that stuck to my heart like knives.

but now, there's bloody, dull scars wrapping over my body and the heat from the fire has singed all the hairs on my head. i guess i never thought i'd get burned from the thing that was keeping me so warm. you.

#idk #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #more of a rant than poetry tbh #prose

maybe I’ve always loved the way you’re teeth sunk into my skin, or how it burned marks into my bones wherever your eyes grazed.

it’s 4 am and I still can’t forget you. maybe we were never meant to love each other.

#poem #poets on tumblr #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #heartbreak #jfc this took like 10 seconds to do #sorry

morning coffee

did anyone ever tell you that

you’re like a cup of coffee that

spilled over the rim of the pot?

when I look into your eyes, all I see is a

black reflection of myself after the

nights when we’d argue over

worthless things.