poems i used to know


And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee
;  - Edgar Allan Poe

I just want you to know I’ve realized things. I loved you. Really loved you. But you can’t keep doing the same thing over and over until you hurt me, even if you don’t mean to. And I’m tired. I’m tired of having to forgive you all the time. I hope you learn from this. You can’t just love someone and leave them hanging. You need to prioritize them, love them, give them time. You did those, but they didn’t last. It turned out all that was left of you was a shadow. I was loving a shadow of a man I used to know.
—  hanzelwrites
Everything I ever write to you starts with I’m sorry, but I have nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t our fault, we never wanted it to end this way. For so long I thought you didn’t care, that you never did. I know now that it was the complete opposite. What I am sorry for is that our timing wasn’t right. Maybe if the leaves weren’t falling and the world was alive instead of dying we could have been right.
—  You’re never going to see this but I want you to know, I forgive us// 4am

“Voices trickled in my head

Imprinting madness as they spun

Laughing as they cast a spell 

That could never be undone.

Their melodies were distorted

But the best I’d ever heard

They mesmerized me with the way

Truth laced their every word.”

I used to see

the universe

in your eyes.

Imagine my surprise

when I realized

it was Hell fire

instead of stars…

- Whitney

It still shocks me sometimes, the way I was so ready to love you. I was eager, longing to do nothing but please you. You dangled all of these words and promises in front of my eyes, as though they meant as much to you as they would have to me. I dressed my heart in silk just because that’s the way you wanted it before you touched it, and I willingly tore down every wall I could see just to let you in. Every fragment of choice was in your hands because I trusted you with them, and when those hands took mine a world of possibilities shone clear. Pushing you away now, there’s still a starving desire to ask you to pull me into your chest the way you used to, to tell you to kiss my forehead and make the pages stop turning in the book we couldn’t write. But that’d do me no good, and I know it. Almost nothing is worse than a nightmare disguised as a dream.
—  🖤

“out in the back of my childhood home
are the days we caught grasshoppers
with shrieks loud enough to alert all the critters
that here was a joy they could never reach
and never understand
then there are the evenings when the grasshoppers had gone to bed
and the crickets sang us a lullaby
as we spilled out confessions of the utmost importance
for they were bigger than us, than the stars,
than anything
and out in the back are the mornings as well
of groggy eyes crinkling at the sight of cinnamon grits
on the porch as a treat
before off we went to try and catch
the purples and pinks of the sunrise with our butterfly nets
I think rather than walk down the path to the car out front
I wish to lock my knees
till my muscles twitch
and root my feet into the dirt
of the world of grasshoppers and lullabies and cinnamon grits
until ivy and weeds grow up my spine
while I remain
back in those days”

- Miriam K, it’s time to leave

@theworldtravellingteenager requested: I saw a poem somewhere on Tumblr, but I can’t remember the name or the person who posted it. All I remember is it had the line “ivy growing around my spine”, or something like that, and I loved it. Could you write a poem for that line as a prompt please?

                          t  h  e   c  u  r  s  e   i  s   c  o  m  e   u  p  o  n   m  e

                                              | ankou!france x ghost!england |

“Is it hard letting go of him?”
It is. And it’s not just because I miss him. Because who he is right now isnt who I miss. I don’t know who he is anymore. But its hard letting go.
Because I had this person who became a huge chunk of my life,a person who lit fires in the darkest parts of my soul. And then he was gone.
The fires burnt out and now I have a gaping hole in my heart.
And thats why it hurts to let go,
It happens in stages really,one day I found myself laughing at how pathetic I was for ever loving him,but the next day I was on the floor of my bedroom begging God to bring him back to me.
I think if anyone has ever experienced heartbreak,you know how hard it is to do things without that person. It’s literally way too hard than its expected,and its also pretty hard to accept it.
Its also hard to grasp the fact that the person you grew to love is now a stranger to you. You don’t talk to them anymore but you hear about them and your stomach clenches and I guarantee you,it doesn’t feel good.
Im sorry to tell you this but,you’ll probably always have a spot for them in your heart,the hole they made can be filled by them,and only them.
I truthfully don’t think I will ever let go of him fully either.
—  It’s the hardest thing you’ll ever learn to do

I was your Wendy Darling,

And you my Peter Pan,

Always ready for another adventure set in Neverland.

Sprinkle me with pixie dust,

And tell me to believe,

Everything is an adventure with you flying next to me.

Mermaids, fairies, crocodiles,

All was fun for a little while,

But there comes a time to let go of one’s fantasies,

And just like Wendy,

I had to let you go,

So I could grow into me.

we were holding hands down a snowy road i hardly recognized. you knew the way to a house i’ve walked to a hundred times. and sleeping in the same bed as any orange haired girl takes me back, cuz i don’t remember any of the nights we fell asleep. i don’t remember if you kissed me. i remember wishing you would.
and i love you so much that it hurts. my heart belongs to the stampede still, the one i was never in but you told me all about it. my favourite song was playing. you sung it to me.
and when you called me late at night, i always knew i should’ve been sleeping. but i never was. i never was. my number’s changed since then. baby, call it one more time. i think i’m still listening for you.
—  the hurricane series - a.m
Back when crystal balls looked like razor blades

I wore a shrine to broken hearts on

my thigh before mine was ever broken.

I carved the question “Love?” into my leg so deeply

that I could not wear shorts or dresses for four years.

                       Eventually, I let the world witness 

my question marks. 

        They way they left scars. The

         time they bled and then scabbed and then bled again.

But that was before my heart was ever broken.

I wore the statement “No.” swollen and red in my right hipbone just above my pant line. It

                  was a love letter to the man 

who hadn’t raped me yet. I wish I was not so good at predicting the future. 

My scars show the most when my skin starts to break. At least I know I broke

it first.


by Kaiden, FTM

Here comes a thought, And happy doesn’t describe it, But sad doesn’t either.
It’s the type of feeling that never leaves, The type of feeling that doesn’t subside.
It feels like needles in your skin, Leaving a sting. Like hot metal dropping in cold water.
The thoughts never seem to leave. When I look in the mirror and I’m shocked By what I see, what is that supposed to mean?
When walking in the halls I feel like two people: My soul and my body. Why do i feel like this?
It affects my mood, My sleep, my appetite. All thoughts piling up in my head like paperwork Causing all the others to instantly vanish. 
I walk through life as two people: What everyone sees and who I really am. On day the two will merge but the question is:

Would everyone accept it that way?

There goes thought. It might alarm you but i’m fine, I just need time to think. 
I just need time to get lost in thought. 

Village witch wallows in the sun.
- Would roll in the mud and dance, if not for her reputation. She settles for soft chanting.
Village witch watches her garden.
- The fields around her house are filled with yellow flowers. she sings to help them grow.
Village witch waits for her daughter to come home.
- She left for the city years ago. Said she was going to grow, be more than a mere village witch.
Village witch wills herself to smile.
- The sun is bright and warm. The flowers are lively and lovely. Her daughter is growing and singing some other place alive.

Wallow, smile, yellow - suggested by @minipiglover - (e.r)

Send me three words and I’ll write a poem with them it might take me a while though

I can only say so much with these words you’ll never hear,

As my words aren’t meant for you anymore.


I love the constellations on your skin
Tracing my fingers over each point
Watching the shivers ripple down your spine from my touch

I love the star kissed spots standing in stark contrast
Pressing my lips to the brightest points

Days spent memorizing the patterns
Burning into my mind so I don’t forget
The most intricate map of you

I love the constellations on your skin

This is my original work do not use without my permission.