My Words - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
Eyes like islands in the ocean
The waves of your iris pulling me in
A rip current that can’t be escaped
Sailing toward the whirlpool of your pupil
Drowning in your soul
-These Windows Are Dangerous
The turmoil inside me has begun to settle
That should be a good thing
But now I just feel empty
As if the war inside of me has accepted its defeat
But has not lost hope
I see in your eyes your love for her
And your curiosity of me
I feel in your touch the “what if” of taking it further
The want to do it again
But now I’m wondering if I’ve become an experiment
If these feelings are worth pursuing
Or if the only time I am worthy of your affection
Is when we both have something to blame it on
- It’s not real if we aren’t sober
There’s something about the yearning for platonic domesticity that hits differently after two months of touch starvation and loneliness. I am wanting for so much that I don’t quite understand how to articulate. I type until my fingers on the keyboard sound like the downpour’s quickstep, then delete it all. And again. And again.
Maybe there is just too much longing to write in a single piece.
Today I spent hours looking for apartments, draped across a backdrop of rain and thunder on the pavement. It seems more than a little far-fetched, some fantasy borne of desire for a post-pandemic world, but somehow it also cradles the familiarity of coming home.
I can see it already, you know. Your plants on that countertop, my candles in that window. Us, together, sitting on that couch, crocheting like the old ladies we are at heart. A tea kettle on the stove begins to whistle. The smell of wet pavement from the street twines with that of the bread I’ve just pulled from the oven. I made buns again and you laugh that we don’t have enough mouths.
My favorite part of searching, though, is the lack of departure dates. The endless listings operate only in “at least”s, for six months, twelve months. Indefinite. The potential in this relative permanence, to return to the people you love every night without fearing the end…
Well, just the idea feels a little like coming home, doesn’t it?
“So I don’t really know where to start, I know I came in talking with a broken heart. Don’t judge me for what you think you know. Remember I’m the one always in control. I showed you my flaws, you showed me yours. Wishing I kept you at a distance as if you were being locked out of a guarded door. Waiting for my life to fade, why couldn’t you just stay away. You had already packed and left, but made sure you sent that last text. “I love you.” Is what you said. Missing you is hard to deal, but loving you? Now, that was real. Not letting me say goodbye was the worst thing you did. Now tell me what they’re saying is a Mistake! This news has to be fake! There’s no way I can believe this lie! I need you to tell me you didn’t die! Please come back and tell me what they’re saying isn’t true! You know my heart will always belong to you.”
-B. July.14.2023
Oh, my lonely heart.
It's tru
Out with the old… in with the new baby…💋
-top is the old me that was dying inside
-new me found herself and no longer wants to die
They never understand because they’ve never been through it. Now, I’d never wish it on them. Not even on my worst enemies, but I believe life would be easier if they understood…
trying so hard to not feel guilty about eating…
I smell the leaves changing…
✨📓Story time📓✨
It’s morning at work which means it’s the prime time for me to have deep psychoanalysis with my coworkers. As one does *twirls hand*
So I lead off into a rant about an English teacher that I’m struggling with which upsets me because English teachers have always been my best friend. This little turd of a teacher won’t let me befriend him and it’s bugging me, so I’m sharing my tales woe when one of my coworkers mentions that his wife is an English teacher, and with a smirk says “So I love English teachers for very different reason.”
And me, ever true to my serendipitously jayus nature, fire off with out even thinking, “ English teacher eh? That means she likes words. You should try this on your wife: My lady if kisses are words, then come here I’m going to give you a speech.”
I’d never see that shade of red on a man before. I literally hit on his wife for him.
Where ever you are in the world today Mrs. Trevor, you’re welcome.😶😅
Anyway, I got all this rizz and no where to go.
Catch y’all next time 😆