The Hardest Thing About Poetry

"The reading of all good books is like conversation with the finest men of past centuries."

-René Descartes

light

mitski // blanche dubois

BLUE LIGHT // ABBEY // A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE

“i like every person i meet. for like 17 days. after that either they expect too much or give too little. expectations and expectations and some more. it’s not like they like me indefinitely. shall i put in the effort and emotion to get to know them beyond their superficial layers and see the love and the hurt and the humanity in them when they are just going to stop caring about my existence perhaps at day 67 or 172? Shall i pacify the devil inside them when it will laugh at my attempts when they walk away at day 213? shall i? or shall i just shut up and go to sleep.”

—

Heading to her new home 

all we need is hope, not war 

children of the world pj

by valentini mavrodoglou

“You don’t actually fear the opinion of others, what you really fear is how their possible rejections might trigger your own somewhat unconscious dislike for yourself.”

—

So how do we improve your self-image? Well here is a powerful way:

Write an extensive list of short positive sentences about yourself and your qualities (non-grandiose of course) and then read them out aloud. If any one of them either feels really uncomfortable to say or conversely really amazing to say…then you basically know which ones to start with.

Now record them into an audio file, put that mother on repeat, track how much you listen to these affirmation each day, and also write down your experience and sense of progress.

And as to the question of progress…listening to affirmations may not immediately bring positive results as your subconscious mind might start to bicker with them for a while which may push uncomfortable emotions to the surface…but this is exactly when you need to keep going…for the inner resistance will gradually fade, I promise you that.

3 a.m.

I find myself in the midst of poetry written by the broken hearted. As I read each line the overwhelmingly hurt that’s been forgotten in my mind. Yet felt in my heart the cries of all the why’s.

Poetry not only written or rewritten; but the kind living in the hearts of those who have lived hurt an pain. In which now converts to healing through words. Writing, the aftermath of endured angush.

Those who have had the highest of hopes. Only to find those hopes crushed by someones lies. Or torn, shattered, and distraught by the hands of a narcissist. Which ever the case may be, I say to you; don’t feel alone because I’ve lived the pain in your poems that I read.

R.A.

I didn’t know this is what love looks like: truth, acceptance, devotion, you were my moonlight. I love like no other, honey gold eyes. My Muse. I wanna steal the sky for you, give you the world. I dream of you and of what it could’ve been. I’m proud of you, though. There’s a lot to learn from you, my muse, the living embodiment of my mantra, but I was too naive to see it. I wasn’t ready for you. At least I was impartial enough to see you deserve better. Low vibrational, I was I was. So brief and short lived by God, did you mark me. This loss is so familiar, must’ve lasted eons,hell how I long for you, I’ll long for you for more eons. To mould our universes into one. Your honey gold eyes forever ingrained in my mind, you were my Frida I see myself in you, my mantra, embodiment of femininity, sapphic love and much more. Forever believe we could’ve been so much more than we could ever possibly imagine. you and I, a statement. A revolution like no other, it tasted like one the very first time our lips met, honey gold eyes. I could swear even Cupid envied us. I envy anyone who is lucky enough to lay their eyes on your honey gold eyes. These are words I never thought I could write, feelings I never thought I could feel. I long for you with every breath I take. My honey gold eyes.

Solitude is independence. It had been my wish and with the years I had attained it. It was cold. Oh, cold enough! But it was also still, wonderfully still and vast like the cold stillness of space in which the stars revolve.

Herman Hesse (via quotemadness)