Hey I'm a new writer on Tumblr, can you give me any advice on Poetry?
write every day, write bad poetry, write when it is hard–but always make sure what you post makes you feel something, if it doesn’t make you feel, it won’t make anyone else feel either
No matter how hard I try Or the amount of willpower I manage to summon You will always be my weakness
It’s just nice to know once in a while you’re weak for me, too
I’d like to have compassion for him but I can’t I’ve already given him too much of my heart.
Regarding old relationships, most days I’m fine. I’ve come to terms with the loss and damage done and know all I can do is move forward and try to heal. Maybe some day even make myself that vulnerable again. I also recognize my part in my own pain and most of the time turn any anger or sadness inward. It is my fault I allowed it to happen over and over. I refused to learn my lesson, to protect my heart and soul even when I knew they were in danger of being crushed.
But some days I just get so fucking angry seeing the things you say and share about how you wish for loving, accepting relationships. THAT WAS ME, YOU IGNORANT FUCK. Those things you claim you want? I gave all of it to you. I gave all of me to you. I gave more than I should have and more than you deserved.
Though I realize none of it is actually aimed my direction and that there were many factors as to why things happened the way they did, I can’t help it that I feel invalidated by the implication that you haven’t had someone in your life to give you these things when I was right by your side for years practically begging you to allow me.
I want to rail. I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I want to yell out horrible things about him and make him feel as useless and broken as I do.
I want his arms around me. I want him to stroke my hair and tell me it will be okay. I want to believe it will be okay. I want to be safe. And secure.
But no one hears my wants as they fall directly into the blackness which was once my heart.
Time again to box it all up. Put it away. Pretend I don’t feel. Time to lose myself in mundanity. Hide from passion. Give up on hope.
I am your dolly You pull me down from my shelf when you’ve nothing better to do To manipulate and pose me To play pretend Until another toy catches your eye Then back I go Lifeless and empty on my shelf