poetry on tumblr – Page 14

i asked you for space,
but i don’t think your shadow understood
because i see it’s reflection in the sky
in the shape of the crows when they fly.
i know you have no reason
to not want to say goodbye,
but remember how i made you feel
when i whispered my way into your ear
to form mountains up and down your spine,
where your imagination would crawl to
places i did not know existed.

maybe you’ll always exist in me somewhere, but you wanted more than i ever thought i could give. // a.s.m

You always used to say if something was meant to be it would happen, and yet I can’t help but wonder if perhaps sometimes we are meant to fight for things to happen.

to my first love: i’m scared to stand idly by and hope for things to work out between us, because what if they never do? what if i was meant to fight for us? // a.s.m

I didn’t fall for you. You tripped me.

you knew exactly what to say and do to make me fall in love with you. but none of it was actually true, and now my knees are black and blue. // a.s.m

do not ignore what
little love is given to you for free, my
dear.
you can’t just
store me in your kitchen pantry
with your non-perishables.
i am flesh and hollow bone and
i am rotting from the inside out.
if you do not make use of me soon,
i will be gone from here: when the wind blows
through your open windows, i will be
dust on another man’s bookshelf.

you can’t just save me for later // a.s.m.

i am i am i am
nothing
yet absolutely everything.
i am my decomposing
grandmother, six feet under Michigan soil.
i am being rejected from thirteen jobs before
falling in love with the one i have.
i am the insecurity and self-hatred
i have shed like a snakeskin,
insatiable wanderlust, and
falling asleep early on a Friday night–
trying to write poetry with invisible ink
on the apartment walls in hopes that the next person
who runs their fingers on them will carry
a small piece of me with them.
i am both my aunts and my mother,
so much history for a soul
that feels much too small for its body.
i am struggling with existence these days
unsure if it’s a game or
a dream, or something in between.

mosaics are made from broken pieces but they’re still works of art, and so are you. // a.s.m.

you can change your hair and change your eyes
but your outer shell’s just a disguise
that’s soft to touch but hard to break through,
does anybody really know you?

a.s.m

When I tell you I love you,
I don’t just mean how
I love the brilliant green of your eyes or
your contagious, body-shaking laughter or
the way you kiss me.
I mean I love
the face you make before you sneeze
and the way your eyebrows furrow
when you’re deep in thought
and the way your ears get
bright red when you’re angry.
When I say
I love you
I mean that
I love you and
all of the parts of you that make you
exactly who you are.

there is not one thing i would dare change // a.s.m

If you find someone who makes you believe in love, never let them go.

I regret leaving every day // a.s.m

I’ve heard that quote that says ‘do one thing every day that scares you.’ But what if every day is a nightmare that I’m not quite sure how to navigate? What if every day in itself terrifies me? What then?

the unpredictability of my state of mind makes life similar to a haunted house ride // a.s.m

You don’t need to understand it to enjoy it.

don’t let your fear of the unknown prevent you from enjoying life // a.s.m