Anonymous:
I just recently came across your poetry, but I feel like you've been writing it just for me c: love your work (and your eyes<3)

Thank you omg I love that everyone on this site is so nice to me about my eyes it makes me feel like a queen

you’re gone.
you didn’t leave me,
but god, i wish you had.
it would have been easier.
i see you every goddamn day
but it’s not the same
and i don’t think it ever will be.
that is why tears are splattering on this page,
that is why i am filled with this unrelenting ache.

do you remember how we used to sing?
not well, but we did. voices intermingling
until you couldn’t tell one from the other,
hushed whispers spitting lyrics back and forth,
until indie rock started to sound a lot like
“you’re beautiful”,
until off-key choruses drifted into
“you’re perfect”,
when the first verse of our favorite song started to feel like
“i’m home”.
i haven’t heard your voice in so long.

do you remember how we used to write?
you used to spin words like spiderwebs,
spill ink like biblical floods,
metaphor and simile and alliteration
coming together to form
something more beautiful than i could ever be.
i could write novels
about the crescent moon of your smile,
about the silver bells of your laughter.
now it’s just the worst kind of writer’s block.

do you remember how we used to love?
like every night was our last,
like every time we said
“i love you”,
it was our final breath.
we loved like scaling mountains, jumping off cliffs.
we loved like we were dying and now
i don’t know how to live
without you.

I will not apologize for this, because it is not my fault.

It’s just that this body became a graveyard so long ago, 
and there are so many lingering ghosts.

I still love you when your hands remind me too much of his,
when I can taste him on your mouth.

I still love you when I am sprawled across your sheets and then suddenly I am a child again and trembling.

I still love you because you are not him and you never will be, 
but I am still me and I cannot run from these memories.

I cannot escape what he did to me. 
Those nights cling to me like shadows;
six years old was far too young to be weighed down with that much darkness.

I still love you when the night is swallowing me whole.

I will still love you when it is dawn again.

Please leave a message.
Call me when you can.

Please leave a message.
Call me when you want me again.

Please leave a message.
I don’t know if you’re screening these calls or sleeping. Either way, I’m aching. I guess three in the morning was a bad time to realize I still love you.

Please leave a message.
I’ve been telling our story. Slowly, bits and pieces. Not all of it. There are some things that I will lock inside me forever. If they knew everything, they could love you like I do. I don’t want anyone to be able to love you like I do. I am selfish and I miss you so much that breathing hurts.

Please leave a message.
You probably think I’m a psychopath, calling you like this. Will you kiss me again anyways?

Please leave a message.
My bed feels empty without you. This is not the first night or the last. It’s just lonelier than usual, I guess. Come back.

Please leave a message.
I listen to the ocean some days.
Others, I can’t help but to remember how you and I were a sinking ship.
It’s hard to tell which one of us made it to the lifeboat.

Please leave a message.
I’m sorry.
For calling so late,
for not liking your mother,
for leaving.

Please leave a message.
One last thing.
I’m sorry that I love you now.
I’m sorry that I ever did.

Please leave a message.
Call me when you can.

Please leave a message.
Call me when you want me again.

Please leave a message.
I don’t know if you’re screening these calls or sleeping. Either way, I’m aching. I guess three in the morning was a bad time to realize I still love you.

Please leave a message.
I’ve been telling our story. Slowly, bits and pieces. Not all of it. There are some things that I will lock inside me forever. If they knew everything, they could love you like I do. I don’t want anyone to be able to love you like I do. I am selfish and I miss you so much that breathing hurts.

Please leave a message.
You probably think I’m a psychopath, calling you like this. Will you kiss me again anyways?

Please leave a message.
My bed feels empty without you. This is not the first night or the last. It’s just lonelier than usual, I guess. Come back.

Please leave a message.
I listen to the ocean some days.
Others, I can’t help but to remember how you and I were a sinking ship.
It’s hard to tell which one of us made it to the lifeboat.

Please leave a message.
I’m sorry.
For calling so late,
for not liking your mother,
for leaving.

Please leave a message.
One last thing.
I’m sorry that I love you now.
I’m sorry that I ever did.

It’s morning when you notice the bite in the air for the first time.
The light is falling differently across your pillow than it used to,
and you can’t recall what time the sunset was last night,
but you realize it must have been earlier than two weeks ago.

Those light-drenched evenings are slipping through your fingers,
the omnipresent sun is fading fast.

Autumn is just around the corner,
and you will welcome it with open arms.

He took it as his duty to cure the dreamer.
He couldn’t bear to see her dancing without any music.
He hoped that one day, she would stop making wishes.
He wanted to open her eyes to the real world.

He showed her that shooting stars are just falling rocks.
He turned the clouds she lived in into a storm.
He shattered her heart whenever it was on her sleeve.
He taught her that happily ever after can never exist.

He broke her in a way he couldn’t dream of.

Anonymous:
prompt: walking with your best friend, generally happy with what's going on, having the time of your life and doing things you love with people you care about, until you suddenly fall down crying when you realize that your hair is not pretty people and never will be.

inkonapagepoetry:

Oh. Wow. I thought this was a genuine prompt for a bit. Ladies and gentlemen, the complete dumbness that is my best friend Auriel. This actually happened. It was hilarious.

I fell for you an ocean away from home.
Your past clung to your skin,
an impenetrable layer of track marks and jail stints.
You were cloaked in memories of women whose names you had forgotten.
Miraculously, you managed to love me.

Some days, I hate you anyways.
The nights when I forget to call and you spit out names like venom,
when you accuse me of substituting someone else’s body for yours.
The days where the thousands of miles between us is insurmountable,
when your name feels foreign on my tongue.

But then I wake up and I love again.
I love you until my bones ache,
until the sun dies.
I love you until every millimeter between us falls away and I am in your arms again.
Until I am home.

Anonymous:
Prompt: My crush.2yrs younger than me blonde hair green eyes wear hoodies plays guitar.have had dreams of him.wake up sad because wasn't real.I wear this hoodie remind me of him wishing he the one cuddle me.I smiled at him once.he didn't smile back.spoke to him once because I help him find music sheet.we both looked in same cabinet our hands cm apart.was ready to "accident" touch his finger but I didn't.I regret not asking him about himself.Want to be friend idk if he ever take FULL notice of me

I’ve gotten this prompt like 3 times now I don’t understand??? i’ve written it twice now. whoever sent this, please message me and i’ll link you to both poems.

She’s all curls and curves,
skin the color of caramel and
a smile just as sweet.
Her hipbones fit the palms of my hands perfectly and her body curls against mine like a second skin.
She’s what keeps me up at night and
what I wake up to in the morning.
She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,
and she’s mine.
She’s mine.
- Her

followcb:

Attention all tumblr poets!!!

2nd Call to join my book project: Great Poets of Tumblr

1. Please RE BLOG this post
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Anonymous is back on, so you may use that to submit prompts if you want. I still have 8 prompts in my inbox, so it’ll be a couple days, but I plan to write a lot tonight and tomorrow. 

blonde hair, green eyes,
hands curled around a guitar.
i’d prefer them to be entangled in mine.

i dream about those hands,
wake up and shudder from reality.

i forget sometimes that i could be the one to reach for you first.
i forget i have my own voice,
that i don’t have to spend day after day pining to hear yours.