Life lately

ellievsbear
Show & Tell
d e v o n
will byers stan first human second
occasionally subtle

Love Begins
Game of Thrones Daily

Kiana Khansmith
h
Jules of Nature

★
wallacepolsom
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
RMH
Claire Keane
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oozey mess
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Three Goblin Art
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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@writing-lane
Life lately
Mark Keller Cello by a window
Weatherbeaten
Fisherman's Hut. Northumberland Coast. UK.
by Donna McL
Kim Sowŏl, from a poem titled "The Road Away," featured in The Columbia Anthology of Modern Korean Poetry
Bouquet of Poppies by the Window c. 1926. (detail), Olga Wisinger-Florian (Austrian, 1844–1926).
I look back at the words I’ve written
and can’t help feeling they’re forbidden
like shoes unbroken, or rooms not lived in
nice to look at, but too hard to sit in
They say happiness is a seed for watering
But what of the pit that lives in my stomach
The one that grows with only a thought
Branches through each hope and dream
Sinks further at what could have been
Happiness might be a seed that needs watering
But this pit feeds on my suffering.
Do you still recognize my foot steps
And hear my laugh in a crowd
Do you still think it’s me knocking
And see my shadow under your door
Do you still hurt when my face falls
And find me in new music
Do you still wonder who I’m talking to
And see the ghost of me in your room
Do you still know how much I loved you
And how much that I still do.
I cherish the memory of you reading to me.
Rays of sun filled your living room,
But it was your voice that warmed my skin.
My head in your lap, your hand on my back
I’ve never felt safer- warmer, more loved
Your bed was the only other place I could nap
I CARRY A WOUND
of being left behind
forgotten at the store
overlooked, or simply a bore
it rips open when you stop holding me
but you can see it without knowing me
it’s buried in confidence, in
I didn’t want this anyway
funny thing is, the ones I should let leave
watch as I rip it open, so they can see fear bleed out of me
it stems from my hips to my thighs
held together with clenched teeth
arms wrapped around my sides
but it festers when you look in my eyes
it formed long ago, when it made no difference
how hard that little girl cried
it scarred over time, but tears in the same spot
one day it will ruin me, not the cut but
death by a thousand goodbyes.
Playing around with a little something