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Abby Reynolds Oct 11
I loved you with soft kisses and warm hugs
with t-ball pictures in a scrapbook
and eating ice cream with your little sister the first time her heart was broken
I came to you in my love
with hands to hold when things got hard
and a smile to share when the world gave you a favor
My intentions were always laced with your happiness in mind
I wanted nothing more than to cheer for you in pridefulness
when you proved them all wrong
but also to walk you home in the dark when you struck out
I loved you with all the stars in the sky
with every word in the books
with every tear in my heart
loving someone like that
filled many holes I didn't know were there
it showed a side of me
I didn't recognize
A side of me I wanted to stick around
I loved you with soft kisses and warm hugs
with laced fingertips and galaxies through the freckles on your back
you loved me
with lustful touch and half chuckles
with clenched fist and a hesitant heart
I know we lived two completely different love stories
you found chaos in the same place I laid mine to rest
This is why we could never try the times
we would never last loving as we did
you see
you never fell in love with the oceans in my eyes
or the tenderness in my voice
you were searching for a violent love
in my peaceful heart
I suppose you didn't know you'd found a girl who could make a home
out of your getaway car
morseismyjam Jan 10
Tumblr taught me lots of stuff
like how to call out someone's bluff,
how bones break from CPR,
and what exactly bronies are.
But deep inside that rabbit hole,
I hit upon some solid gold.
I live in a small town you see,
and I thought things were wrong with me.
But in my dark blue dashboard space,
I found there was a thing called "ace".
I had a 5-hour googling spree,
and I found that this name suited me.
i mean, how i found out about my sexuality was definitely ****** up.
this is just a cute little poem of self-discovery
Jack L Martin Aug 31
There you are
pretty as a picture
the perfect life
you eat amazing food!

Thank you for sharing
Your private thoughts
Your personal contacts
how you shop
where you travel
Where you work

You gave me permission
To control you
when you signed up
to play that game
the game that tells you
which Brady Bunch Kid
Is most like you

a small price to pay
for your ignorance
you are not alone
two billion idiots
myself included
You can download everything you've ever posted on Facebook. It is shocking when you come to the reality that you gave all these companies permission to spy on your "private" life.
Kay Aug 23
I had to find my healing
So I went back and found you.
Waited for you to call my name
and I'd as If my demons could come too.
Cause they were always the third party
The uninvited crew.
You'd undress me with your smile
and I figured I could stay a while.
In this mess called loving.
Cause it hurt to be out there on my own.
I didn't have a place to call home.
More like the home I had couldn't make room for my demons and me too.
So I found myself coming to you.
Broken and bleeding.
Cut tongue but still pleading.
That maybe you could be my healing.
- K.B.
Liyah Bella Jul 29
I still have your boxers on my floor
i keep them there
because it's the only thing i have left of you
Liyah Bella Jul 21
In my shoe box are your love letters
i read them often
tears always comfort me
i miss you whispering you love me
but now i can only read them and hope you still mean it
Filled with inspiration,
We feed off each other’s brains...
Making ourselves feel things we couldn’t

Opening our minds...

Follow me on tumblr ;) > clearmemoriez
M Jun 15
‍   sometimes i catch myself writing like a 2013 tumblr girl. not that i'm against tumblr girls, or 2013, or the writing of girls, really; but you know the type i'm talking about.

‍   mentioning-a-body-part-every-few-paragraphs type. there-is-something-inside-of-you-(probably-a-flower-or-some-other­-plant) type. the type that reeks of cigarettes and seasides and longing. the type that could even just be one or two words

‍   ‍   ‍   written like
‍   ‍   ‍   ‍   ‍   ‍   ‍   ‍   ‍   ‍ this,
‍   ‍   ‍   you see?

‍   ... and people gobble it right up. (i can't blame them. i once did.)

‍   i'm not sure when i realized that there's more to poetry than typewriter aesthetics and talking about bones and rib cages and oceans. sometimes i catch myself comparing eyes to galaxies and i laugh because there are so many eyes, so many poets, so many stars.

‍   i wonder if there's poetry in the little things. the mundane. rainbow gasoline leaks on damp streets; brown brick cafés during golden hour. untied shoe laces. kissing in the back of an uber. (there has to be, right?)

‍   (there has to be poetry in the way my mother bakes her chicken *** pie. the thrum of music playing from another room. emojis. how chlorine sticks to you after swimming in pools. hands that don't fit together; hands that are too big to hold each other; hands that clasp on to each other anyway.)

‍   (there has to be poetry in those.)
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