#dead poets society
If I write you into my world
Then I haven’t given you up.
I tear pages of you from my heart
Erase paragraphs of your existence
I try to rob myself of your presence
And still I seem to cry tears made up of your promises and
breath air polluted with your words.
If I break my own heart waiting for you
And scribble it on a page
Then I haven’t forgotten you yet
You don’t know the color of my eyes
The taste of my lips
or the pigment of my cheeks
when you say hello.
If I write myself senseless stories of you
Being everything I ever wanted
Then your breath is still in my lungs
I exhale.
Trying to expel your beautiful taste
that has become far too addictive.
I choke on good intentions.
And bleed desperation.
Desperate to forget about you. Desperate to no longer depend on that smile to set my day into motion
and that voice to lull me to sleep.
I try so hard to erase you from my mind, to cleanly reap the seams
binding you to my heart,
and binding my heart to my sleeve.
It wasn’t until looking you in the eyes
for the last time that I realized,
my inability to form
a coherent thought about you
unless it was spilled across paper in permanent ink, was the tangible prison destined to tie me down for all eternity.
You see, I had erased myself from the pages of your book, only to find that you cluttered every chapter of my own.
r.t.
“Dark Water”
another from my illustration series
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“HERHERHER”
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“Bones”
From my second prompts series, prompt provided by @/abrochine on Instagram
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“Goodbye”
tried something different for one of my series’
the poems in this style were dubbed my “rambles” series
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“STRANGER”
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High Praises | The Keats
Summary: After speaking with the music producer, you finish writing a song you’ve had in the works after meeting Neil.
A/N: I’m thinking about making this 30 parts and finishing with an epilogue…
Taglist:@carpe-diem-babyy@liebthots@scribblestarsonthecuffsofyourjeans@honourabledeadpoet@ophenlia@tozierdecker@youthsbandana@interwebseriesfan24@truly-insatiable@applecakeradio@sketchingthingswithfeelings@myassbelongstobucky@blisshemmings@officiallydarkgeek@noonewouldlisten25@mentally-in-northern-italy@suchalonelyheartt@tragedy-of-sorts
drivers license | knox overstreet
based on drivers license by olivia rodrigo
…
the seatbelt light turned on as you sat in your mom’s car, dinging as it insisted you put the seatbelt on.
it feels strange to be in a car without your mom or dad. the past months had seen them riding passenger seat as they coolly instructed advice as you drove them around.
it was even more strange not to have knox there.
you had been so excited to learn how to drive, starting in an empty parking lot in town. practically beaming with joy that he trusted you to drive his dad’s expensive, even if the lot was completely empty.
the car reverses as you back out of the driveway, looking both ways before carefully pull out on the street. there were no errands to be run, no destination in mind, but you were driving anyway. music played from the stereo.
even though it had been a full week since you had gotten your drivers license it felt so odd, empty really, to be driving alone. it reminds you of the conversations with knox, his promises that you could drive him around. drive to him.
without meaning to you realize you’re en route to his house. a few more turns and you’d be less than a mile away.
go. go. go. go.
tears blur behind your lashline and you pull over on the side of the road. it’s empty thankfully. paul anka’s voice croons through the speakers, singing sweet words of love. you turn it off.
it only makes you think of him. and her.
that blonde girl.
they were probably together right now. she was so beautiful, sweet, charming, kind. everything you wished you could be. everything you doubted about yourself.
knox said not to worry about her, he said forever without knowing forever has an expiration date.
you know it’s not healthy to dwell on it, on him, on them, but there is nothing you can do. your friends have been kind, listening to you talk about it obsessively but you know it’s past the period of sympathy and only a matter of time before they get tired of it, no matter how much they love you.
love, love, love, love.
you love knox. so young but so sure of it. nothing had ever felt like this before with anyone. he had your entire heart, you’d fallen completely but he wasn’t there to catch you. things weren’t perfect, nothing is, but how could he be so okay now that you’re gone?
pieces of you lost. his face was everywhere. you saw him in everything, white cars only reminded you of his. the memories shared in the front seats, the laughter and smiles. you couldn’t even drive past that empty parking lot without breaking out in a fit of tears.
it didn’t matter how he felt, if he ever loved you as you love him, because it didn’t change anything. you were still alone, driving past his house, seeing his white car parked next to a red car.
A night of thunder storm n I sit beside my window talking with a friend …..
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.
.
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This is a introduction post that I never thought would turn out this … That I’ll create just another fragile piece of my heart ……
.
.
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It’s hard each time when u try to hold on to something to survive n it pushes u back into the waves again ……
-shewasunknown
As the life unfolds, things change, our goals, likes and targets changes and i started to fear this changes till i started to consider thinking why to fell in love to fall out it… And realise tht the process is indeed beautiful to not seep it enough in life…..
Her phoenix soul
And in the middle of night ,
Under the ambience of the shiny fellows
Her eyes fills with dreams,
On the crackling sheets of paper
She scribble the climax of her story ,
And again on the never ending road of hustle
She goes on with another sunrise……
-shewasunknown
Photo source: Pinterest
“ I talk to this person everyday but y do I feel electroduced everytime his reply pops up on the screen???? ” ………….
“ What’s the best thing in your life u ever thought of ” he asked while rubbing his eyes now sleepy…
“Your existence ” he whispered and smile looking at the face on the pillow , the person who was just confessed is fast asleep….
I don’t know whats more romantic than laying in a medow while looking at his eyes adoraing the beauty of his heart when he stares back with all the love ever existed and says"call me by your name and i will call u by mine"
(Just watched the trailer of call me by your name so the post is justified )
I love reading unknown words, or even unknown topics and yearning to find its meanings… Learning n understanding till fulfilled and choked….
Them: how much romaticized story u want?
Me:YESSSSSSSSS
