I like poetry and art
18 posts
Ofthedeadpoet - Tumblr Blog
This user has, i will never be the same...
has this been done already
“it’s starting to smell like pumpkin spice!”
“it’s starting to smell like scary movies!”
no.
it’s starting to smell like, the snow in the mountains was melting and bunny had been dead for several weeks before we came to realize the gravity of our situation.
I think 99% of my problems would go away if I had a hot (potentially undead) girlfriend.
Y'know what I love?
I love bodies with texture. Freckles, moles, acne, scars etc.
Like yes, I love the freckles on your shoulders and face from spending summer days in the sun, or the scar on your knee from the time you fell of your bike when you were 12, scratches on your hands from playing with your cat, marks on your face from when you used to pick your pimples as a teenager.
Bodies with texture have so much life and stories to them and I think that's such a beautiful thing.
the other side by dean cornwell (1918)
to love someone is firstly to confess: i'm prepared to be devastated by you. by A History of My Brief Body by Billy-Ray Belcourt
Rest In Peace Franz Kafka, you would have loved Mitski.
Damn, pretentious traumatised men driven to their downfall by their obsessive pursuit of knowledge and their poet boyfriends who take care of them. Real not fake.
“Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust?”
The Frankenstein brain rot is happening again...
Summer academia: Greek, reading outside, figs, stargazing, call me by your name, pride and prejudice, picnics with your lover, drinking herbal teas and lemonade, sleeping in the sun kinda vibe.
"The Moon is distant from the Sea -- ..."
by Emily Dickinson
The Moon is distant from the Sea -- And yet, with Amber Hands -- She leads Him -- docile as a Boy -- Along appointed Sands --
He never misses a Degree -- Obedient to Her eye -- He comes just so far -- toward the Town -- Just so far -- goes away --
Oh, Signor, Thine, the Amber Hand -- And mine -- the distant Sea -- Obedient to the least command Thine eye impose on me --
Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabanel (1847)