
poetry archive and a main for other tendencies. too sentimental to give it up but the day tumblr lets me switch primaries i will rejoicemostly @crossbackpoke-check here
211 posts
Synonyms For Destruction:
synonyms for destruction:
girl pretty face but sad eyes and you know she’s going to ruin you gently, but it hurts the way she tears you apart and picks out every thread as careful as when she sews you back together smile lopsided and wrong down to your bones. destruction does not come fast, is not easy. is quiet and gentle, pulling you apart the way the world ends- a collapse inward, broken doll on joints that could not stand folding, paper with edges creased and a note that says "i love you" left on the bedside table while you sleep. happiness like a corrosion, spreading through your veins.
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elijahisgay liked this · 8 years ago
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katrinnac liked this · 8 years ago
More Posts from Csoip
for sharp-edged women, made of thorns, points and needles:
you have been broken, beaten and abused to become who you are.
your eyes are tired from always searching, never daring to stop looking for where the next attack will come from. you sleep with one eye open.
scars are your badges, medals of honour you wear to remind yourself not that you let someone do that to you but that you survived. there is no greater challenge than this-
to live in a world of softened, loving people and to be what you have made yourself. a creature of hard edges, claws, teeth biting and words cutting like knives.
you are difficult to love, and maybe, you do not want to be loved.
it is enough to stand on your own two feet in the shelter you have created, safe in the knowledge that no one and no thing can hurt you unless you let it.
and you won’t let it.
no one comes close enough to even touch your points and if they do once, they never do again. you are wild and free and self contained all in one; you are your cage, your door, and the key to open it.
if someone looked close enough they could see brambles weaving through your hair, claws like knives instead of fingernails, razors hidden behind your throat and the iron that runs through your body instead of bone.
you are fire and ice, clawing your way from underneath the dirt and falling from the skies.
everything you have, you have had to fight for, and everything you have you deserve.
you make and remake the world in your own image, shaping your daughters to be strong, hard, guarded and full of wit- something you wish someone had done for you.
no one told you that the world would break you, your heart and bones and mind, and no one ever warned you of the dangers of pretty green-eyed girls and dark haired boys who slit their wrists in the name of love. you have lost friends and love that way, and once, almost, yourself.
and you wish someone had told you that edges are not something to be scared of, that you could stand on a precipice and not fall off. brambles guard the castle holding everything you love (and when you love, you love fiercely, the sun chasing the moon and dying to give it breath) and needles are what you sew yourself back together with.
for the women who are strong- you understand.
U.S.S.R (Ukrainian Remembrance)
i am in love with the way she says Ukraine like it’s not a place but a presence & the little trill in the back of her throat where it resides, waiting to be released. on the way home she tells me home is not a home anymore, or what it used to be; i’m not sure of the translation. she remembers as a child living somewhere that wasn’t here & how it felt to have to lose her words to find new ones. i am ashamed that i love her voice so much when for her it means she will never belong but there is nothing i can do to tell her. now blue-blonde-purple hair swings in my face as she turns the key & opens the door into a world of 33 letters, made up of people fleeing from the past. her accent stays in the air with me long after the door closes on all her words, shut in the back of my throat. i try out the sounds in my mouth to find they aren’t as strange as one would think & that maybe a presence could live inside all of us if we let it, or learned to grow to love it. inside they rejoice because 24 years ago an empire crumbled to its knees. now they celebrate to the sound of the warbling voice of time singing along to old national anthems, only it can’t remember all the words so instead it just sings freedom, freedom, freedom & hopes everyone understands.
mid-life crisis
there should be a word in between young and old for that middling feeling you have when you're not quite dead yet but you're still dying slowly. except in between isn't like a "halfway there, here's the tipping point oops now you're old" there's this whole entire section of your life that isn't young and isn't old and is something entirely different, which is why it needs a name and a word so that we can all write the address down and visit it. this is where we should live, in that strange middling in between that isn't in between at all and is instead like someone dropped the bottom out from under you and now you're falling into the dunk tank, cold and wet and shocking but you can still see clear through the water and glass to the rest of the carnival you're just not a part of it.
in light of recent events i think it’s understandable that my voice is a little shaky & that i can’t speak any louder than a whisper. scar tissue is building up in my throat layer by layer & i can feel it begin to grow. this is a reminder every time i open my mouth that burns take a long time to heal. even years from now i don’t think that i will ever stop rasping my way through explanations of my fears at night when i am alone & a list of reasons why my voice shivers when it rains & how i always sound like i am the rough-hewn edges of a dock scraping against the murky water, waiting for someone to jump off it.
SCAR TISSUE :: o.m. 5. august 2016
shitty love poems and other ways to say i think i love you
I decided to compile a masterlist of works for this collection, so here it is! This collection (title above^^^) is about unconventional love and the kinds of love you don’t think of as love but really are. It’s love sometimes in a scientific or simple or complicated way. If you have any comments or constructive criticism I’d love to hear it.
i think i love you
you’re overdramatic in your assumptions about love
steps to falling in love*
wave(particle)
particle(wave)
love defined