These people all have earned my eternal love :heart:
sunsets and telephone poles by Bluezbreakr, literature
Literature
sunsets and telephone poles
she was my
girl in black
and you untaught me
how to live
("suicide; believing")
at 1 a.m.
i'm justifying
why my chapped lips
won't crack, and how
i watch California
sunsets without
batting an eye
you tell me I'm crazy,
and we laugh at the
tragedy, the
irony, the truth,
and the stupid ways
i'm obsessed with nebulae;
we're all made of
stars,
exploded.
you recount to me
the lashes of your
flames and the gravity
of your bang. i'd love
to see your plumes
if you'd show me
and you do
and you tell me to
find hers
but maybe silver screen
flashbangs could match the
flares of supernovae, and
her hand in mine could split
the atom and t
always
with the war of two voices
raging in each ear, saying
"don't be a crypt or
an article of past
confederations; desolate
and bleak"
and
"show your thirst,
spend yourself literary
without remorse"
but the truth is
I am drawn archaic, bones brittle
and bursting like overripe fruit
and I write
to stay
.
start late-- come into the world
all screaming face and flailing limbs
and grasping fingers
that hold to the womb, the room
you've lived. welcome a brother
before you have learned what the word
should mean; before you are carried
on the shoulders of another brother;
before you can begin to understand
the responsibility of you. watch yourself,
your existence, tear apart your family--
be the reason she wants him to leave,
be the reason he can't control
himself. be the reason two brothers
don't understand a father's love.
drown. be flailing limbs and stolen breaths
and splashing water and your father's hands
holding you down. when he is bored,
jump into the world headfirst
crack open your skull on the ocean
sink like a forgotten shipwreck in the belly of a herman whale
come up for air
stumble across the words of the story-- tell it again
lie to a loved one, a stranger, both of them
get away with it in a stolen limousine
write lists that you will never complete
hang them like goodbyes from anywhere they will stick
fall in love like a wrecking ball, destroy a whole city (pretend to)
have your ernest heart ridden with bulletholes, alone on a timber hillside
find god, realize he is just as lost as the rest of us
give him a kurt laugh and look elsewhere
grow an ego with hooves & h
never tell the ones closest to you
you write to live a million lives, you write to stay here
no, show them something that looks like a poem so they'll
get off your back
live life in a chair and
imagine you're everywhere
but where you spend
the little time you've got left
be you but don't be
anyone and everyone
that is you
be a beautiful
asshole
and push everyone away
then draw them in with your
sad fucking words
make people cry
make people wish they were dead
and alive at the same time
time
think about it for a while
then forget about it in a drink
in the sheets
sleep
sleep
then don't sleep
don't
leave every sad memory behind
carry
How to pretend that you are a writer. by lupus-astra, literature
Literature
How to pretend that you are a writer.
Act like you're not
okay when you are and
that you are when you're
not. Run barefoot in
the snow. Stand out
in the rain for an hour
and think about anything
and everything you can.
Fall in love with
riddles and things that
aren't real and the
way some stars
shine. Cry when
you realize that life is
just one big sham and write
one hundred cliché poems
about it, and then write one
that you actually mean.
Use profanity. Be the
one fucking introvert
in a room full of
extroverts and scream
shit just for the fun of
it. Swallow every goddamn
metaphor you ever dreamed
of and write them down
with your own blood.
Eulogize your own
misery. Put a
pen, paper, and pixie dust (To be a Writer) by Tales-of-Tao, literature
Literature
pen, paper, and pixie dust (To be a Writer)
grow up in the mountains, littered
with painted leaves and waterfalls
dance your pre-school ballet number
and pretend you were
a fairy born in Neverland.
because reality is painful;
you can't fly away
from mommy's sick,
delusional screams.
grow, and grow some more
learn that crazy is contagious
and insanity is viral
as mom gets better
and you're the sick one
who can't stop screaming.
but make sure your screams
are silent
as you stain
your throat
a ragged crimson.
learn to love the moon
lording over an indigo sky
because your Neverland is
still behind your eyelids
when you dream.
scribble
erase
scribble
erase
scribble, scribble, scribble
how to become a writer by LionesseRampant, literature
Literature
how to become a writer
have parents that separate
when you’re in high school;
a father filled with unused anger
and a mother too busy to care.
pretend it doesn’t hurt.
let your friends treat you
like dirt;
after all,
everything is your fault.
listen to their problems with a fake smile
all the while crying out because
everything hurts and no one can see.
press a knife to your skin,
but be too cowardly to
draw your own blood.
fall in love with people
who could never notice you,
because you’re
just. not. good.
enough.
chew on the multicolored
strands of your hair.
(you can’t stop runni
travel. travel to
12 different countries.
write about to the ones
you've never been to.
fall in love.
fall in hate.
fall in crippling
depression.
drink cheap coffee
live off caffeine
and cafes with
free wifi.
question everything and
everyone. never be a
sellout nor trust a soul
with your words.
be a disappointment.
dispirit everyone and
no one because you'll
never be good enough.
dream about fantastical
places filled with wonder.
twist them into nightmares
with raging beasts and cruelty.
never be happy.
rip apart your work.
love something then
loathe it back.
cry about your regrets
to anyone who won't
listen and ignore those
who care