Poemblr - Tumblr Posts

Is it just me or can you find the full range of human emotion in the average notes app? I’ve got vents, poems about nature, to do lists, and then the most random vague thoughts that I don’t remember writing.

What does this mean??? Don’t ask me

Keeper of the Junk Drawer

Lover of maybes

Watcher of doubts

Protector of the unwanted,

Of oddballs left out

Save the scraps of a foreign land

Receipts and tags crinkle in your hand

Change from the divine’s pockets

A forgotten face in an old heart locket

Memories fade but these do not

Trinkets, treasures, tin pots

Be careful keeper of the lost

For under the past the present may rot

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.

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.

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.

“What is my life for and what am I going to do with it? I don’t know and I’m afraid. I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.” - Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

trying

they say you’ll know

when someone loves you.

but I love you,

yet you don't know it

i fail to tell you

over and over.

the words are at the tip of my tongue,

threatening to pour out,

but what comes out instead

is venom that scalds your skin.

i swear im trying

my best; this beast

is terrifying. More so

than the thought of you

disappearing. It appears

that im just afraid

to admit it–

to you, to myself.

and I'm hoping,

that your love

will be sustenance enough

for you and me both.

Sciamachy

I’ve slackened the reins,

The ones keeping her compliant.

When I stand facing her now,

It’s all the same.

My gaze washes over her features,

The details etched on my mind.

The unevenness of her eyes

The slope of her nose,

The curve of her lips.

But something is different;

Unsettling.

The sparkle in her eyes has disappeared,

In its place a pitch-black void.

Terrifying me,

Tempting me,

Luring me in,

In to its vast nothingness.

A devious promise of freedom.

We’re screaming now,

Both grappling for control.

Growing louder and louder

But in reality,

we're shrouded by a deafening silence.

I feel the reins slipping,

and I don’t recognize her anymore.

So I concede,

turning away,

and leaving the mirror behind me.

Curious Fear

i'm dreading it

i can't wait

i want time to slow down

i want it to hurry up

Future holds me in her hand

the strands of my hair

entwined around her fingers

and my feet glued to her palm.

i stray to Past sometimes

longing for her knowing embrace;

the comfort of her certainty.

but my hair only reaches my waist,

and the hands of the clock move fast.

so I look through the gaps,

watching the Sun

plunge below the horizon,

hiding its colours except

a pitying pink trail in the sky.

the following darkness is unbearable

until the Moon proudly shows off

it's blemishes in monochrome.

yet if their beauty were measured,

the scales would be left balanced.

i crave more,

hoping a new sight will find me through the spaces.

i look on with curious fear,

not knowing what shades of the sun

will paint the clouds tomorrow,

and which leaves will bathe in silver moonlight.

or if any of it will happen at all.

curling my body

into the ridges of her palm,

my lashes entangle to welcome sleep.

it comes with dreams of warm orange,

cold grey and midnight skies.

Time

more time

more time

more time

greedily grabbing it

just to throw it away

i need more time

i don't have time

things are piling up

i look the other way

just runnin' away

runnin' again

what's your address

i'm just up in my head

my eyes follow the blaring screens

noise drowning my thoughts

before they can breathe

the music's loud

i don't even understand it

avoiding my language

so the lyrics don't get to me

i don't wanna feel

anything; it's too much

my eyes are glazing over

my mind's gonna explode

it's all too much

so I shut it off

shut it off

just get stuff done

but off I go

cause I've found another one

another distraction

it's pulling me in

everything's great in my head

the real world briefly flashes

before my eyes

until I face another screen

and pay it no mind

complaining about time

till I have none of it left

now the consequences

of my actions

they're chasing me

but I'm runnin' again

runnin' away.

my favourite poems

are the ones I wrote about you.

and my favourite nights

are the ones where I don't have to see you.

too much

is there such a thing as

too much love?

can you love someone too much?

to the point where it's overflowing.

it grows until there's no more space;

until you can't breathe.

the love,

it consumes you.

it consumes your thoughts,

your time,

your emotions,

your entire being.

it twists and turns,

growing and changing,

until you don't recognize it anymore.

until you don't recognize yourself.

it doesn't matter though,

because you'll love every moment of it.

even the parts you hate

you'll love;

you've got too much of it anyway.

I should have left

when the kisses moved from my lips to my cheeks.

I should have left

when the warm hugs

turned into quick brushes.

I should have left

when a cold shoulder replaced

the one I leaned on.

When a few words

sparked arguments

and hour long silences,

I should have turned my back on you.

But I didn't

And that's my mistake to bear.

You were bitter

so, so bitter,

but your sweet aftertaste

had me coming back for seconds

and more.

I should have left when

my name on your lips stopped sounding like music

and your eyes

no longer held all the stars

in the night sky.

I should have left you

the moment we fell out of love.

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.

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?