poetry, fanstuff and more
21 posts
Flukepooldeath - A Lot Of Weird Stuff - Tumblr Blog
Will I not love myself when I grow up?
(This poem is written out the perspective of my younger self)
"I'm nothing."
you say
to your mirror,
broken,
you shattered it 2 years ago.
these words are not your own.
you quote & you quote & you quote,
yet forget to mention
the authors name
is lie
I used to believe adults words;
when dreams were reality,
when pluto was a planet,
& a dog more than
just bones.
Do you know your words
are nothing but lies
formed out of your uncertainty?
Fourteen is a shitty age;
I wish, they would've warned us.
You're all grown up now
but scared & you lie.
what changed in youth?
you don't dare to be loved without pain;
Will that happen to me?
You still look like a child,
begging to be held
in the sound arms
of your unholy mother
she wants to love you; but can she?
If she doesn't like herself
in her room,
how can her love reach
your ears
in her arms?
Adults say, they don't lie,
but no truth reaches my ears;
their mirror lie to them
so they lie to themselves;
Where did their self-love go?
Why do they speak about love
like it was a task
& not a feeling?
I lie sometimes in fear;
What happens in youth?
Will I not love
when I grow up?
will my mirror teach me
how to hate & to lie
to myself & to you?
I can't promise that I will always love you
when I'm grown up,
but listen to me while I'm young
& believe the words while
I can still see the truth.
Your mirror is broken
& your mother is gone
& you forgot
how to love yourself;
so let me love you
Be brave and let yourself be loved;
let not lie, no mirror
be an obstacle to my love.
It takes time, but we're young
There's still time left;
We may never be holy, but at least
you don't call unholiness your mirror anymore.
we'll be more than we bargained for,
maybe less than what we wanted to
But don't worry; you will be.
The truth: you will be something.
Something loveable anyway;
p.s. i love you
A/N : I wished somebody would have told me that you will hate yourself when you grow up. I wished somebody would have taught me to love myself through it.
I've grown up, and I still don't love myself like I did when I was a kid. But I'm learning; I still have time...
And so I shout out:" I want to change the world!"
But between the laugther of friends and the explosions of bombs, my voice gets lost.
I ask myself "When will the sound waves of my voice form a tsunami? When will my words bite like sharks to those who dare stepping into my home? When will my speech sink the ships of the enemy? When will the sand be swapped away from beneath their feet with my words? When will the rhythm of my talk soothe them to sleep?
When will the ripple of my tone bathe the kids in summer?
"
Speak up for yourself. Scream to the ones who will not listen, say the words of those without a voice. The soundless words hold every thought and feeling of the writer.
Place every vowel, every consonant with care. Every letter changes the meaning. Every word can change a world.
But a good life is impossible enough to try
Cradling numbness
An empty bed.
Dried flowers,
Stars on the ceiling.
Place for a child,
Never brought home.
Dead lover.
Lifeless crying,
Soundless screaming,
Manic laughter,
Empty arms,
Cradling numbness.
Stolen child.
Dreams broken,
Nightmares awoken.
Death before life,
Darkness without light,
No hope.
Never here,
But still...
Come back
;
Maybe I cry the ocean
-
In the last few weeks I have felt numb, still do and I'm not even sure if a few weeks is enough. It feels like years.
The ocean in my head is drowning everything out. In the far distance, I can hear the 52hz whale crying, but I can't answer. Water stops my voice and fills my lungs. I can't breath, but my heart beats faster than I can count.
I don't have the energy to stay afloat, so I'm sinking like a wrack. The darkness beneath me grabs my feet and pulls me down. I close my eyes, waiting to hit the ground.
I don't feel it. As I open my eyes to look down, all I see is black. I know that down there is a ground. Nothing is infinite. I just don't see it. I can't see it.
While still sinking, the world of creatures swims by me. Beautiful and ugly, tiny and big. I try to touch a shiny fish but it swims away.
I cry. At least I think I do. My tears immediately mix with the water of the sea. I can't tell them apart. The deeper I sink the more I get pulled down. Harsh. It will probably leave markes on my skins.
I try to scream but every last breath of mine seems to be made of the sea. Or my tears.
Maybe I'm drowning in my tears.
Maybe I cry the ocean.
Picassos dissociation
-
Time is not real
Has it been an hour or just a minute after what you've said? I don't recognize the voice. Who are you?
-
The world is not real
Everything feels so far away, like there's a wall of glass between me and everything else. The faces of friends become the ones of strangers. The world is fake. Is there cotton candy in my head? It feels like a dream, like I'm floating on clouds. Everything I touch feels so light and like smoke. But God, please, give me something to make me real, show me evidence, that I exist! Make me feel the ground beneath my feet, make me feel pain, so I know I'm here!
But even the pain doesn't feel real.
-
I am not real
The thoughts in my head are out of my reach, my memories stored away, my emotions unreal. I'm scared. Someone is screaming at me. I don't know what happened. I remember someone asking me a question, but the words they used are in a different language I do not understand. I try to scream but instead of words, there is silence coming out of my mouth.
-
"Who are you?"
I ask the person in the mirror. It should be me, but the stranger on the other side looks weird. It looks like a painting by Picasso, all messed up. I want to run but my feet don't move. I watch as my body just stands there. So I run without it. As I look behind, the vessel of my soul, once my body, still stand there as I fall into the abyss.
-
Please,
I just wanna go home.
-
-
-
-
My experience with dissociation. It sucks.
I am merely a ghost of my body.
A reflection of windows in the town of flames.
It keeps you warm but one day you will burn.
I am not here.
Not really...
A wall of glass hides the things in front of me.
My thoughts went missing years ago, but I can't even find them on a milk carton. They left no footprints and forgot to take the pain away.
You are a rose
You are a rose.
Born with spikes,
They hurt but
that's okay,
Because you are beautiful.
You are a rose.
A symbol of love
The painting of passion
Dyed red petals,
Of nightingales blood.
You are a rose.
Protecting the fallen prince
Bravery in his heart
Fighting for his people
The "hero" killed his love
You are a rose
A symbol of revolution
Banned by the wicked
Loved by the good
A gift from the dawn
You are a rose.
A symbol of death and youth
War and friendship.
Love and purity,
Unity, people
Since the beginning of flowers
You are a symbol of us
•
•
•
I was bored and I saw a rose
August
In my throat I could still feel the air of August.
The earth spun ahead
and flowers danced
but in my body
time stood still
and I didn't dare to breath out.
I was too afraid
my breath
could touch your fragile body,
which seemed like made out of glass.
Too afraid I would break you.
I was so careful
but you still left.
And since then,
my inner clock stood still
and this silence drove me crazy.
Since you left,
I couldn't do anything;
except starring at the walls
and wishing
you were here.
I remember your hand
caressing my cheek
as I cried.
In those moments of memories,
I can feel the warmth
and the pressure.
Your thumb
wiping away
those tears of which I cried too many.
But now
I wish I could feel these tears again.
But I'm empty.
My thoughts are just fregments of words,
syllables of dreams,
letters of something,
passing too fast to reach
The way my skin wraps around my bones makes me suffocate, drowning in tears I am still holding back
If the sky wasn't blue...
-
If the sky wasn't blue and the sea wasn't too...
would I have dared to run?
Just pack my things
and spread my wings
far away from everyone.
-
If the fire wasn't red and my friend wasn't dead...
would I have told my mum?
That I'm moving away
and why I can't stay
That she is the reason I'm numb.
-
If the kid wasn't afraid that the man bared the blade...
would I have punched his face?
The stranger who screamed at me
full of conspiracy
while my heart broke like a vase.
-
If she wasn't annoyed while she created the void...
would my heart still be okay?
Would it still be whole
without the pieces she stole
I think I'll replace them with clay
-
If my thoughts weren't hazy and my teacher not crazy...
would I have stopped with the knife?
I know life is rough
But would I be enough,
Would I be worth this life?
-
If my head was alright and the darkness brought light...
I think I might make it.
I got this chance
So I'll try a dance
Hoping that I will make it.
I'm scared
-
-
The street is big and noisy,
The entire ground is red.
Blood and guts squished under cars,
I'm scared like a cat.
-
Running in a zigzag.
Jesus take the wheel.
You know I don't believe in you,
but i still hope that you're real.
-
I need someone to hold me,
but please don't touch my skin.
My will to life returned,
I don't know where it has been.
-
The kid in me is crying,
Tears running down my cheek.
I want to scream and shout,
But I'm afraid to even speak.
-
-
If you want to, you can try reading it to the melody of (more like the beginning of the verses)
-
Only Everyone Can Judge Me by Crywank
-
Falling for Them.
As their hand reaches out to mine,
I could have sworn Michelangelo
getting jealous.
-
What was I worth to touch a hand like this;
the skin pale as marble and the finger caressing my palm,
tender as they mingle with mine.
-
A picture, Van Gogh could've never see.
A statue, the greeks could never create,
Picasso gasping in reverence, as I feel their skin.
-
A smile, the sun would envy,
a brightness Icarus could never reach,
Aphrodite leaving the throne of the muse.
-
And those eyes.
Medusa would be the one turning to stone,
Sappho, writing endless poems.
-
Their laughter soft as the clouds in the sky,
hearing it,
makes me wanna fly.
-
The waves on the shore creating a melody
which could never compete with their voice.
Gentle, lovingly and so, so warm.
-
The warmth of their arms which hold me safe
in the night of storm,
until we see the beginning of dawn.
-
Hephaestus would burn
if he touched my heart when I'm with them,
Prometheus never reaching the fire to steal again.
-
The love of a masterpiece hundreds of years
still there,
poets and artist, dying to see,
-
but they just look at me.
And they hold on to my hand.
As I'm falling for them.
Sunny
Who would have thought that the sky is so big?
The home to a planet of fire.
Flames of passion, eyes of Helios, burning, flashing, heart of Ra.
Warmth, a cup of hot chocolate, comfort in winter, friend in the summer.
-
A light in the darkness, sometimes lost too.
Grab the hands of the stars, grab the hand of the moon.
Guiding in the universe, everyone has a place.
Flowers bear your name with pride, beauty in life.
-
The universe knows of your smile and scars.
Daughter of the sun, ancient warrior.
Fire in heart.
Comfort, passion, pride.
-
A bonfire of happiness, kids singing along to the melody of your voice.
Glimmer on the waves, Icarus' dream.
A day and a night.
Almost drowned in the past, glorious alive today.
-
Hold on to the hands, they while lift you aboard.
Take rest while the moon takes charge.
Sleep tight, tomorrow you can rise again.
You're name is Sunny after all.
-
-
-
My moms nickname is Sunny. I wrote it for her.
Remember My Name
Dig my nails into my hands
Hope it leaves a mark
Cry like a statue a greek would create
Shattered to pieces in the house of a god
-
Laughing like flowers made by Apollo
Blood rinsing from petals, fault of love
Icarus flying too near the sun,
the sight of the lover above
-
Dying in embrace of him who i kissed
Holding me thight so tender
A last kiss with breath shaking so dearly
Hades, you know i surrender
-
My soul leaving my body, of life just a witness
But feelings like grief and joy?
I know I'm not immortal, but let the greeks die
So we alone can coquer Troy
-
Take my hand as we run towards the gate
A strike in my chest, spear of tree
Helpless falling like a kid
A pain of losing, him my beloved, the pain of losing me
-
My eyes shut as the lit fell down
Wood burning, passion in flames
Marks on my skin, hands in fist
Please, remember my name
What does happiness feel like?
The color of my life begins to peel off like a wallpaper in the ruins of my body.
Bones of rats in the corner of my mind, a cobweb reminding me of the history of myself.
Leftover glue where once stars sticker stuck.
Empty nails in broken walls, the pictures long forgotten.
Footprints on the floor, handprints on windows, a laughing outside becomes a wailing in the hallways.
My life has fallen apart like a corpse, rotting in a field of flowers.
Bees build a hive in my mind, the buzzing keeping me from hearing my own thoughts.
Stunning butterflies landing on my face, I CANNOT SEE THEM.
The honey must have glued my eyes shut, for tho I cannot see the beauty of life.
I feel it.
The little legs tickling my skin, making me curious.
What does happiness look like?
Does it look like a tulip, swaying forever in the breeze?
Maybe it's the night under the sky I spent.
Maybe it's the way I laugh.
Am I happy when I laugh?
Like, really happy?
What does happiness feel like?
The stars know everthing.
But do the stars know the way people love?
A person who loves someone.
A mess of imperfection, sewn out of flaws and fregments of mistakes, but a perfect smile.
Crooked, holding nothing but the truth.
Eyes capturing the death of a star, tragic, with beauty full of life.
Hands, which once touched the soft skin of someone, being able to hold someone in your arms like they were never anything but a place to rest.
Legs, which roam the holy ground, not holy because of deitis, but holy because its part of the universes.
A place which holds all the treasure ever known to humankind, known to any kind of creature.
A creature whos seen the horrifying beauty of life.
Breathing, laughing, crying.
Making friends and feeling lonely, holding hands while moving apart.
Life and death, a circle never meant to be broken.
But love wants to break everything which makes it beautiful.
Romeo dying of the thought of seperation, Achilles killing for revenge, waiting for death.
Hannibal forgiving a sin not known to a deity, Apollo forming flowers out of blood.
A god creating birds out of pity, a love never meant to be.
I envy the stars for knowing a love like this, being ready to take death as a consequence.