towritepoems

We were composed of the most beautiful symphonies. He would say I love you like it was an easier concept than to breathe. It all just flowed naturally. So for the longest time, I thought it was him that I needed but it was me. And I have experienced storms far greater than the ones he has blown my way. In the distance I can see a calm sea. I know maybe not now but really soon that I will be okay.
Butterflies
  • Butterflies
  • Jackie Rose
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Butterflies. 

A poem by Karys, (towritepoems here on tumblr,) now a song by me. Everybody go follow her blog, her poetry is lovely. ♥

butterflies died in my stomach
and turned into heavy stones
and I will lay in my bed forever
and make dust piles from my bones

oh god I can’t say that I miss you 
with silence spread out like the sea
with that blank stare sketched on your face
I know you’ve not thought of me

I am tired of feeling this tired
a terribly consistent fatigue
with a heavy heart blocking my lungs
you still make it hard to breathe

oh god I can’t say that I miss you 
with silence spread out like the sea
with that blank stare sketched on your face
I know you’ve not thought of me

you have been gone for quite a while
as I count the minutes in the bricks
it will be exactly seven thousand four
hundred and twenty when I finish this

oh god I can’t say that I miss you 
with silence spread out like the sea
with that blank stare sketched on your face
I know you’re not thinking of me

A realist is psychologically referred to as a pessimist. Who wants to love a pessimist? Who would enjoy waking up to a person on sunny days that prays for rain? (and man, do pessimist love rain) Constantly in search of clouds that will turn your skies gray. Transforming into the weather on your parade that is anything other than that sunshine your parents have been feeding you on silver spoons. I don’t understand it. But I will try to. I wanted to start off clever with a “Being loved by an optimist is pretty freaking odd for a pessimist and here is why": I would have made a list of words.
Alliterations, metaphors, and similes grouped in an attempt to woe. For instance, I see the beauty in rain and my very own demise in darkness. So here it is (again): because he will tell me to look for rainbows when the sky cries and because he will tell me to pick out stars when the sun ceases to supply light. I find humor in the fact that all the things the world loathes that I like, he will buy umbrellas and I will buy night lights. Then our glasses are balanced with water and ice. Not necessarily half empty or half full but maybe just free of vice.
—  On Being Loved By An Optimist. (via jwjb )
To the guy I met my Sophomore year
The one I didn’t quite ‘get’ till my Senior year
I promise you I am not full of malice, or obsessed
I just think I can love you the way I think you should be loved
I promise you this is love and this is not a joke
You see, when I was younger people would tell me that I had a nice voice
When I grew up, people told me I had a nice voice
Then I met you
You had a voice that was steady
Like the schedules of day and night trains
Yet it would often stutter
Or experience instances of nervous quacks
And shy shakes
And like 6am day breaks I always expected it
Still, it made my heart flutter nonetheless
Like an actor who is featured in a Romantic film
Take after take
You were on queue
See that is what you did
To someone who was quit fond of books
To someone who adored a book about a train
Your voice, yea that train wreck
Was good to me like a soft violin
And it was bad to me like too much sun on salted skin
Somehow, still, I would love nothing more than to hear it all over again
—  The Little Lover That Could. (via jwjb )