poetry // embarrassing ooey gooey mushy stuff


(Source: worldofhommes)

(87,387 plays)

hadeejasouffle:

Test your friends by rapping “first things first” and see if they respond with “I eat your brains” or “i’m the realest”

1. If he doesn’t answer, don’t keep sending texts. If he wanted to talk to you, he would’ve responded.

2. People will make time for you when they care about you. If he says he’s too busy or constantly cancels his plans, he doesn’t care. People fight for you when they care.

3. Don’t let him touch you on the first date. If he tries, he’s not there for the same reasons you are.

4. You can tell a lot about a person by their favorite book.

5. If he can stomach more than ten straight shots without feeling a thing, he drinks too much.

6. Ask the uncomfortable things. When was the last time he was so high he couldn’t speak? What does he regret the most? Does he drink to remember or to forget?

7. Don’t send pictures unless you want to. If he has to talk you into it, don’t do it. If you hesitate, don’t do it. If you do take a picture, don’t include your face. Keep yourself safe.

8. If you can’t laugh when you’re having sex with him, maybe you aren’t sleeping with the right person. Sex isn’t about tricks and tips and routines.

9. If he hurts you, cut him out. He’s gone, he isn’t coming back, and you don’t need to prolong the pain.

10. Don’t be afraid to open up again. I promise not everyone will love you with a knife behind their back.

—Boy advice from someone who made the same mistakes too often (via guiseofgentlewords)
I like the way your hands
move in the sunlight. Even better,
I like the way your hands move
against skin that does not
belong to you. You say so much
but really you keep the most
important words to yourself.
Or better yet, you write that chaotic
mess of meaning into poetry.
How do you do it? How can you
love so many but insist
that you do not deserve
the same love in return? I’ve never
met someone as selfless
as you. I’ve never come across
another person who is able to
give others the amount of hope
that you do. So why not give
some of that energy to yourself?
You’ve spent so much of your time
trying to fix the broken pieces
of those who will just leave
once they are patched up.
Do you think that’s fair? Do you
think that’s love? Have you tried
stitching up your own wounds
before using that thread
on someone who will only end up
tearing it out. Now I know that this
reads more like a lesson
than it does a love poem,
but I am being aggressive because
I love you more than anyone
could ever promise. I hope you
don’t hate me after this. I hope
you don’t see your faults
as flaws, or your dedication
as something that should be
removed. You are beautiful,
and you are as gentle as the way
the morning kisses the mist.
So please, try to love yourself
more. Try to see that you are
much more than a nurturer
to the weak. Try to see that you
need love just as much
as those who have been swallowed
by their own darkness.
You radiate so much light
that I know it can be hard to see
the shadows in your eyes.
But I see them, and I know you are
not as strong as you say.
So turn over your open sign,
lock the doors and use your time
off to say to yourself what you
always seem to say to others;
you are beautiful and you will
survive, I promise. Because if
there is anyone that can turn
their pain into poetry, their pain
into a new way of healing,
it’s you.
"A love poem to myself," - Colleen Brown (via mostlyfiction)

i. i hope they tell you i was beautiful, that i held the galaxy in my hands, had stars in my eyes- i hope they show you a picture and you see the sun in my smile.

ii. i hope they tell you that i cared, that i never stopped caring, that those pills may have kept my heart from beating, my lungs from breathing- but darling they didn’t stop me loving you.

iii. i hope they tell you not to cry, that tsunamis do not bring back the dead, that you cannot bring back the dead. there is no use in crying over things you cannot fix. i know, i tried. look where that got me.

iv. i hope they tell you i tried. darling i tried. you were barely a year old, wide eyes and innocent giggles- i wanted to be there when you took your first steps. i wanted to be there when you first learned the world would hit you hard. i wanted to be there to pick you up again.

v. i hope they tell you that it’s okay to not be okay. i hope they explain that artwork on your canvas wrists will not make it better, that bruises will not make you beautiful. i hope they tell you that i thought you were beautiful.

vi. i hope they tell you that i loved you, but darling sometimes love is not a weapon strong enough to battle darkness. but darling i hope they tell you i battled- i fought until i couldn’t. but i loved you through it all.

i hope they tell you, darling. m.m.c. (via passivevoices)