Spilled Poems - Tumblr Posts
How can you cry
When all your tears
Solidified
Into rocks
Cold
Immovable
Numb
Like his heart
That was never meant
To be yours
From the start
Katie, 13:0
Someday, you will fall in love. And it's not going to be the feeling you've grown accustomed to. Those years filled with wild butterflies? Bouquet of roses? Spark in the eyes? All sweet nothings that send you to cloud nine? No, it's not going to be that. Your next love story will be a mess. A total mess. As if a tornado has passed and disarranged everything in your life. And you will begin to question all that you ever believed in. You will begin to weigh what's worth your time and what's not. But you will be strong. This kind of love will make you strong. It will cause you to scream at the top of your lungs in the middle of the night when you have nothing left to give. It will make you doubt every promise that has ever said in the name of passion or commitment. You will uncover lies under beautiful flashes of skin and smiling faces that look like a dream. It will make you cringe against a gust of wind coming from an open window. It will make you bleed. But it won't leave you weak. It will make you strong. And you will appreciate it more than anything in this world. The moment this kind of love finds its way to your heart, you will be the bravest woman ever lived. All because you will be able to handle it.
-Not your usual love,
Katie, 18:00
Your Broken Angel
My wings get broken too;
I can’t fly.
But I wanna be there
To hold you when you cry;
Drink your tears;
Wipe them dry.
Until I wither away;
A disintegrating shadow.
In the labyrinth I hear the echo
Of your screams.
So I’m here
Always, your broken angel.
-Stormykatie
My heart is a graveyard for all the love I want to profess but died before they could escape my sealed lips.
Katie, 22:00
Her breath that has always smelled of love and coffee tasted like death when he leaned to kiss her for the first time. Astonished, he thought, maybe there are things in this world that appear so real, so alive from afar. But when you look closely, they're actually dead.
He wondered if the love she made him feel is real and not dead.
Distorted reality,
Katie, 22:30
Sometimes my heart is empty
Sometimes it's full of you
And all the moments in between
I cling into a string
With every gust of wind
Gently, I swing
In my mind I hear you sing
And I am lost
Between the lyrics
Oh you are
A song I can't forget
You're stuck
Deep inside my head
A persisting memory
Your voice resounds
I am lost
Between the emotions you evoke
When my heart is empty
You fill it up again
With feelings more profound
Than the last one it kept
The austerity
Of the lines you sing to me
Stops me from running
Mesmerized by the melody
I am not
The kind of person
Who admires
Singers
And all their poignant lines
But for you
I will make an exemption
For you always fill me
With waves of euphoria
That I forget
The chaos in my head
For you silence
The howlings from the dead
I buried beneath the sands of time
Oh you fill me
With your spilling pieces
And yet
I feel empty
Like I can't get enough
So I spread
Myself like a giant sponge
I'll absorb you
All of you
Until every song you sing
Becomes one
With my poetry
-One with my poetry,
Katie, 22:30
as long as we do not die,
darling there'll be words
to stain blank sheets of paper
piled on your empty desk waiting
to be reunited with your pen,
there'll be stories about the night
we sat at the porch reminiscing
how we used to be good friends,
ah, cool, old days, we could not stop
talking as though the world is going
to end the next morning, you told me
how much you wished to wrap
your arms around me that afternoon I
was feeling under the weather,
there'll be tales to be told,
songs to be hummed,
poems to be recited,
darling, there'll be ample of words
to be written, so i'll let you fall
deeper into silence and revel
in the pangs if it soothes you
as long as we do not die,
there'll be stars twinkling
above us as we lean
for that last kiss.
-katie,
18th April 2021, 15:36
I've asked my guardian angel
to free me of all ties
And show me that side of the world
where heartless humans reside.
So I could be one of them
and be a loner soul
And play this game of earth
of treachery, cheat and foul.
He asked me, if I was
already tired of it all
Who knows if I still hadn't
experienced my worst fall.
Who knows if life has in store
For me, a deeper abyss
I have a long life ahead
so much more to live, than this.
I cried all tattered and broken
Can't do this anymore!
Have myself served on a table
And allow all devils to devour.
He laughed out loud at my misery
Said i can't give up now
With my foremost breath intake
I'd survive- was the very first vow.
He suggested I slam my heart
onto the people, places and things
And let it wound a magic carpet
from all those attached strings.
If I'd save myself too much
I won't have much to live
Life ain't a book of receipts
It's how much you've got to give.
-Vanshika Singh, Slam my heart.
Oh the day I'll stop thinking of people as a vessel for measuring my worth!
I am in the middle of that road where you discover that no matter if we love/like/admire/adore a person, it gives them no right or license to put us down. We should never let anybody feed onto our insecurities, even if that means loosing that anybody. Because people gone leave a space that can be filled later on. But once that love for oneself leaves, it leaves not a void, but an abyss.
They said I won't fit here being the person I am. I decided to change things. Now I own a corner where I not only fit, but happily live.
Do not walk away easily. Don't give up too soon. But when you do, make sure you erase your footsteps that you leave behind as you walk away. Make sure you forget the way of getting back from where you left. Make sure you don't put yourself through the same test again and again.
I am writing an enemies to lovers trope. The characters are me and myself.
The moon complained, like it always did, about how I spent my day mourning over the loss that may not fit into the definition of loss few days later.
I could only look on, guilty and mesmerized. A little defensive too. Mourning is my right. But a little too much mourning is probably radiating off to the moon, my most favourite guy on earth.
-Vanshika Singh
My brain says academics but my heart says a Renaissance era poet in Florence, struggling to make ends meet with bestie Michelangelo cuz wages are falling.