WordsAreHardPoetry

[wordsarehardpoetry]

Poster,

I look at

your expression long

enough to see

white lines form

across your face

making you

geometric shapes,

cut into pieces,

spread

across poster board.

I try to read

into this in some

symbolic way.

The intriguing line

cutting diagonal between

your lips and nose

grazing your contorted

cheek. I read

and read your face

until the lines fade

and I see it’s

getting dark outside.

[wordsarehardpoetry]

Wrote a thing, shout out to any other kids with ADD or ADHD cause this is totally how I feel all the time. Also, I know I didn't sign it this time around, but will get to it eventually. Just wanted to pay something for now.

[wordsarehardpoetry]

I know I posted about this book already, but I just finished it this morning (I'm a slow reader) and honestly I have never cussed so much at the end of a book in my life. Like ultimate betrayal at the end, that's all I'm gonna say. 😭😭😭 I freakin love this author now.

[wordsarehardpoetry]

It takes calm to conquer a mountain

Isabel Allende in City of Beasts

Currently reading this really cool adventure book by Chilean author, Isabel Allende and can't help myself with some of these quotes.

This one is really inspiring, but if it really takes calm to conquer, then I have a long way to go cause I'm an anxious bean 102% of the time 😂.

[wordsarehardpoetry]

My guilty pleasure in life is YA fantasy novels. If you like fairy tale retellings in a setting based off of ancient China. Or any books in the villains' perspective. Or a story full of adventure, gore with poetic language that'll make you cry, you have to put Julie Dao's series on your reading list.

I know that this is a poetry blog, but I mean where do you guys think writers get their inspiration from? So expect a lot of book and content recommendations on top of posts on my own poetry 😬😬😬.

[wordsarehardpoetry]

Drops

I want so badly to catch

all my mothers tears, let

the weight of them absorb

in my palms. I would carry

her father’s still, black lungs,

her sister’s torn body,

the brightness in my grandmother's

eyes as our visit comes to an

end. The white, plastered walls

enclosing around her, the turned

back of her aloof daughter.

I want. I want to

so badly. I feel her

hands hovering, wanting

to hold her baby once again. I look

at my palms, how rough they’ve

grown from years of neglect,

the cracking and peeling from no

moisture. I can hear my

mother’s apology cries,

but my hands only

slide back into my pockets, my back

turned, her tears

rolling into the ground.

*Starting off with an older poem of mine. Hope you guys enjoy!