Poeticstories - Tumblr Posts

I don’t want my tik tok to go viral. I want my poetry to go viral on Tumblr:(

The way I love you is not simple.

It is a love that’s more than love.

It is a urge and an emotion that can not be ignored.

It is a feeling few will ever truly feel.

The way I love you is not simple.

I can not draw you a picture of it.

I can not fully put it into words.

I can not make you understand it

The way I love you is not simple.

It makes me cry.

It makes me so utterly happy.

It makes me worry.

The way I love you is not simple.

There is no boundary to it.

There is no end to what I would do for you.

There is no day I want to spend without you.

What do I do with so much love, a love that consumes me?

Do I put it into small gifts for you?

Do I shower you with words of its praise?

Do I scream it for all to hear?

Or will I end up accidentally burying you in it?

That is my worry.

To think that at 19 I have known love twice in my life means many things.

-I will likely know love again.

-I have been through two heart breaks at a very young age and survived.

-Love is not every thing and chasing it will kill who you are.

-Never live your life for anybody but yourself.

Day dreaming

Imagining fantasies of us in my mind is half the fun.

Your touch is hungry, in desperate need of me.

Your kisses are long and feel like you're saying everything I've been wanting to hear.

But once again the reality is a far truth from fantasy.

-Lila Geddie

For some reason, the realization that maybe I didn't have to do this all alone crippled me with a swell of emotions. At first, I felt relieved that maybe there was a path that ended with a happy me, so relieved that it felt like the pressure of my whole life had lifted just enough for me to scream. Then just like that, I was crushed with the reminder that that's not my life and he doesn't love me.

Could you love me while I hate myself?

-Zeph

control and compliance

I'm sorry I could not morph you into what I wanted

Some illuminescent being with a soft touch

I ask forgiveness from both myself and you

for I was bested by a control with omnipotent fingertips

All I have ever craved was some makeshift authority

a fanatical over-compensation in place of what I lack

an autonomy to not fall upon bruised knees for any pleading voice

of a deeper degree

for I attempted to dominate my body

the growth of my girlhood into some cursed depiction of a blooming woman

my waist, my thighs, my shoe size

and even that revolted from my rule, escaped from my chokehold in the midnight hours

for now who do I see that looks back at me?

my captor, I am in a locked cage and am groveling for mercy

I tried to hold death in my hands

steadfast and determined

I kissed wrath's palms, wet with crocodile tears

as I burnt my lips on sorrow's flesh

and lust tainted my veins

the moon has now coaxed you to the precipe's edge

steep is the fall, jagged and beckoning

as their departed faces lay upon bare feet

whimpers still echoing throughout the blowing wind

a red ink stain upon the blossoming greenery

they were once our kin, a child's heart

still beating in the chests

sounds of love radiating within ribcages

pink cheeks and sun-kissed faces

far too similar to our own

lost from our being, stolen from our lungs

by some higher-power who found themselves entitled to take what we had created

within our own machinery

come back to my embrace, I shall entice you with a delicate song

of a sweeter touch, an embrace so warm it will melt your armored layers

I will not send you to an early demise, like the others before you

youthful and ignorant, past lives still apparent upon my skin

for I am unaware of how many I may have left

I shall not take you for granted, I am submitting control

to a happenstance that has haunted me since I could comprehend

the fear in the unknown

and the agony in chaos

Perhaps there is peace somewhere lost in the middle of this uncharted territory

-lauren a.p

you don’t know how much you meant to me.

how the words that left your lips

pierced my heart,

lurking in my head for hours.

how the sweet texts you sent

are locked up in my gallery

after all these months.

i look at them sometimes,

the screenshots taking me back

to a time that may have existed,

to a version of us

that looks perfect

in the haze of nostalgia.

is that a smile or a grimace?

a bittersweet taste on my tongue.

you don’t know how much you meant to me.

that drunken voice note still haunts me.

“i love you”s whispered in the dead of the night.

hours before dawn broke;

days before your heart did too.

i'm not sorry though.

i was sick of us,

sick of running in circles,

of the loop we were stuck in,

of our never-ending endings,

one step forward, two steps back.

you were a habit I couldn’t break,

but it was time to stop.

like a wilted flower clinging to a branch,

it was time to let go.

old habits die hard,

but as the nostalgia fades,

reality slams into me in waves.

and I’m glad I never told you

just how much you meant to me.

i ignore you for months

barely sparing you a glance,

rarely acknowledging your presence.

you've been by my side for years

saying nothing

as i break parts of you,

replacing them soon enough.

And when i fall asleep on your side,

you silently let me.

allowing my fingers

to dance down your neck

playing out melodies;

tunes sung on my command.

and when i scratch at your surface

out of sheer boredom

there is not a single word of protest.

the callouses on my skin

are a small price to pay when

i leave you for months

fascinated by someone new.

you watch soundlessly

as i hold someone else in my arms;

a new temptation this week.

but you know I'll come back

and i know

that when i do,

you'll welcome me with open arms.

This is about my guitar lol

Hate your love

when you said you liked my curls,

i spent hours

straightening them out.

you complimented

the calm blue of my nails,

so i painted them a fiery red.

then the skirts left my knees bare,

unlike the denim that kept them warm

before you said i looked good in jeans.

and the day your fingers tied

the laces of my high tops,

i replaced them with stilettos,

the heels as sharp as my tongue

slipping poison onto yours.

i didn't mind when your hands

grazed the flesh of my cheek;

after all, i craved it.

i wanted your lips chasing mine,

needing to stain them

the shade of my new lipstick,

wanted the pads of your fingers leaving icy trails

down the heat of my skin.

i craved your touch,

but i resented your affection.

with every change i made,

i swore to never be

what you wanted me to.

entangled in my fabrications,

deceived by a false sense of control,

little did i know,

that you had me

exactly where you wanted me.

i couldn't recognize myself anymore

and you loved every part of me.

i want to know the answers.

the correct ones,

the perfect ones,

the ones that will stop me

from gazing up at my bedroom ceiling

as the night passes by.

i’m afraid, though.

fear crawls up my spine

soaking my skin.

i'm afraid the answer

simply doesn’t exist.

am i in the wrong place?

or an old puzzle piece

unable to fit in the right place

due to edges frayed by time.

in her cruel nature,

she snatches everything away.

like a forest fire,

unrelenting as it turns

lush green to ash grey,

nothing but mournful black land in its wake.

but we can’t blame time,

for cruelty is in her nature.

so we blame ourselves;

i blame myself

for not fitting in,

for not catching up,

for not growing and

shaping myself into the mould

of other’s expectations.

and all I can do is wait

and hope time will do it for me:

hope time will smoothen

my frayed ends

or tear them off entirely—

whatever it takes

to make this the right place;

whatever it takes

to find the perfect answer.

Colours

pink like the roses you gave me

like the blush tinting my cheeks

like my lips lifted into a smile

blue like the ribbon binding the flowers together

like the infinite sky above us

like the little birds chirping their tunes

green like the leaves of those flowers

like the soft grass beneath our feet

like that four-leaf clover;

handing you my luck

orange like the sun’s rays

streaming in through the window,

bathing everything in a warm glow.

silver like the ring encircling your finger,

like the one identical to mine

like the stars twinkling in the night sky,

when I fell asleep in your arms.

gold like the pendant glinting at my throat

unlike the promises

that you made to me,

and broke.

white like your t-shirt

before it was stained with your deceit

like the little lies you told me;

till I didn’t know what to believe

black like your wavy hair

silky to the touch

like the murky air

that’s suffocating the two of us

grey like the storm that’s been brewing

lightning striking in flashes,

like those pink roses,

the ones I burned to ashes.

Autumn

the soft pink painted sky

a backdrop

to the viridian mountains

lining the infinite horizon

behind the ochre autumn trees

whose golden leaves fly down

to kiss the solid earth

on which is perched a squirrel

shaped like the pillowy cloud

hiding the orange sun which glows

like your hazel eyes

fixed on mine

as your delicate fingers clasp

my hands gently

stroking my warm skin like

the frigid fingers of the october wind

stroke my hair

blowing around when

you reach out and

tuck the dancing strands

behind my ear and

the silky sound of your laughter

tickles my heart

causing my own to escape

past my lips against which

you press your own

to swallow the sounds

before they get lost in

the soft pink painted sky.

Let go

i want to let go

let go of everything

that's keeping me closed.

i want to untie the knot and unravel the rope

wrapped tight around my body

holding captive

everything that i am.

it tightens further,

squeezing my insides

until my feelings are stuffed into my organs

and my arteries threaten to burst

and bleed blue.

all the frustration tucked into

the nooks and crannies,

coerced out of my heart,

leaving the vessel hollow.

and now it just screams to be filled.

i want to let go and explode,

uncaring of the consequences.

i want to crush

under the soles of my shoes

the titles and expectations

like i did my dreams

for they were 'unrealistic'.

assurances of 'you're still young'

don't comfort me.

let me be young then.

let me be reckless like the rain

as i watch from the safety of my window.

let me live like a storm

that wreaks havoc in a few hours,

the aftermath echoing for years.

i want to be unpredictable

like the weeping clouds that turn

the clementine sky gunmetal grey.

i want to let go.

do i love him or his kisses?

butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

dusting my cheeks with a blush.

do i love him or his compliments?

words pouring over me like silky sweet honey.

cascading down in a delicate melody.

do i love him or his hugs?

warmth spreading through my chest

like a beam of sunshine.

wrapping me up in a cozy blanket.

do I love him or his whispered secrets?

smooth voice leaving a trail

of goosebumps along my skin.

trusting me;

a key securing a lock

do I love him or his hands

clasping mine tightly,

fingers entwined,

murmuring a promise.

do i love him?

or do i love the way he makes me feel?

i wonder what it's like

in that head of yours.

is it waves of sadness

pulling you under till you can't breathe?

or fists of regret

crushing you under their weight?

do claws of guilt pierce your skin,

talons drawing lifeblood?

or do flames of greed lick your arms,

scorching your entire being?

is fear your nicotine?

killing you from the inside out

while life without it is unknown to you?

or does a leash of longing tug at your heart,

as you desperately seek

what it is that you long for?

do red clouds of rage

paint your world bloody?

or does a dark cloak of anxiety

cast a shadow over the rest of us?

do you wear a blindfold of jealousy

until you've worn yourself down?

or a mask of annoyance

shutting us all out?

does loneliness engulf you

in a mocking embrace?

or do you spend your time

struggling to crawl out the grave

you dug yourself?

who's the puppeteer

pulling the strings that lift your smile?

is your smile real?

i hope;

i hope it is.

i hope you see it flicker in your darkness;

i hope you salvage a sliver of it—

of hope.

did i know you?

i still think of you

a passing thought in my mind's traffic.

i pay no attention,

"ignore it and it'll go away"

most days, it works.

but some days, in the dead of the night

when the darkness engulfs

both me and my musings,

it does not work.

it does not work and I reach out,

clutching that thought,

clinging to it

the idea of you.

the you I've built in my head.

the you who's soft as the petals of a rose,

comforting like a cup of warm chocolate.

but it isn't real,

it never was.

the real you pricks me

like the thorns of that very rose;

the real you is cold, indifferent.

or maybe,

i don't know you.

my mind deceives me,

there is no black and white,

only a grey haze.

as my fingers hover over your name on my phone,

i pull them back.

maybe I know you, maybe I don't.

maybe I miss you, but it's not enough.

your thorns have pricked me more than once.

so I still think of you,

but I'll never let you know.

i've gotten so used to it,

living with that buzz in my brain.

the background noise

telling me to move,

do something

it whispers of incomplete tasks and

people lost along the way

i've gotten so used to it though,

that it merely adds

a touch of weight to my shoulders,

disappearing when my mother pulls them back, correcting my posture.

the sound is all but gone

when i'm with my friends,

shouting out the lyrics

of the songs that shaped our childhood,

looking out of the car window

as the glowing lights flash past.

red, white, warm yellow.

the sound is gone

until i'm alone again.

but, still, it's nothing more than a buzz

one i ignore,

telling myself i'm fine.

the new year's given me that:

the ability to believe I'm fine, truly.

i've been walking at the edge of the waves

positivity, optimism, gratitude.

i repeat these, louder than the buzz,

but the waves gently lick at my feet,

threatening to wreck all I've built

the sandcastle standing precariously

on foundations of a new year and hopeful words.

i'm scared of my poetry now.

words i pulled out of my chest

by piercing my heart with thorns and needles

until they spilled out,

red and raw.

but i've decided to do it anyway.

pick up the pen

and momentarily

invite the buzz into the foreground.

dig holes that welcome the sea in streams

into the moat around my sandcastle.

it's a new year

so i've decided to trust myself.

trust that i can control the stream.

trust that my words won't drown me

and if they do—

trust that i can get back up to the surface.

idc

I don't care

I draw hard lines in the sand

Only to watch them swept up by waves

I don't care

I say to myself as I watch you

And her do the same things we did

I don't care

I tell myself as I see

your name on my screen

I don't care

I think as the songs fill my ears

And your face fills my mind

I don't care

I tell my friends

when you come up in a conversation

Because to admit

the opposite is weakness

It's giving in to you

It's disappointing myself

It's all the times

I went running back to you

when I knew exactly how it would end.

In a twisted knot

begging to be untangled

In nothing more than grey,

nothing more than ashes and dust.

I don't care

I don't care

I don't care

I repeat

Until the words lose their meaning

Until you're nothing

but a faded photograph

Until I can't remember

the exact sound of your voice

Until I can't recall

the things we used to talk about

Until you're nothing

but an afterthought.