A Doggy In The Balcony

It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

A Tale of Tree

I write this as I sit under a tree, It’s beauty, a specimen of nature, you see; It’s flower, so warm and bright, Like the friend who stays with you, On a summer’s night. Its leaves, so dainty and green, Just like a ballerina’s ‘petit’. The way it sways in the wind, so light and sweet, Reminds me of carolers on New Year’s Eve. It has stories left untold, The rings held in the trunks, old. Its branches like a friendly embrace amidst a crowd, Its tender touch to erase all foul. I bid farewell to thee my tree, My tree of tales, A tale of tree.

Onwards on the Race of Life

My heart flutters when you’re near, Onward on the race of life; No one knows if you’ll be mine.

Another year passes by, Morning to dusk every time, Onward on the race of life, Umbrella of yours, hiding us from the, Rain of time.

Seas could not match my blue, but Arisen by you in me, your Ruby hues, Thank you for saying that you admired me, Hopefully that lasted and you haven’t forgotten me; An abyss in which I lie, Kindle a fire, so we shall not freeze in the darkness of the night.

I imagine a life with you, then without,

Lest, I lose you or you go on a different route, Onward on the race of life; Velvet you lips are, and your soul an, Esther in my eyes.

You looked at me that day, in your eyes a feeling I could not place; Onward on the race of life; Umbrella in your hand and in your other, mine.

The Javelin

I feel as though a javelin has impaled me, from my back. But the thing is though, that the javelin's invisible and if you hide it well enough, the blood is too. The trick is to walk on like before, as if life couldn't be better, with your head held high even though it hurts, even though you want nothing more than to collapse and cry out your pain. That you want nothing more than to ask some seemingly kind stranger to take out the javelin and dress your wounds. But I think that when it pierced through my flesh, it impaled my heart as well. It's lifeless now, blood running dry from its vessels, my body left to live on only pain and miserable tortures.

5 posts! YAYYY!

🌱🌵🌲

👖👖👖

Plants with pants

Sounds awesome tbh😁🌿👖

Someone Like You

You're my next-door neighbour, I knew you since we were kids, I gave you six-dollars for your cheesy movies, I do love how you kissed me. Red hair, green eyes and a good taste in tunes, There really isn't someone like you.

I love your little quirks and ballet slippers, I love how you practise the piano even now, Playing Adele on a four-chord loop. I did a cartwheel for you We bought you white and green tees, Ans I bought you pink converse shoes. Red hair, green eyes and my baseball hoodie, There really isn't someone who loves you like me.

The secret hideout, marshmallows on a stick, You smoking a cherry cigarette, Your cat who doesn't go outside, Otis, my doggy boy. Red hair, green eyes, the white dress on you, I love our Soundtrack because it reminds me of you.

I confess I hogged the Spot only to talk to you, Sat on the porch to hear you play, I can't tell you how sad I was, When you lost your mother that way. Your cute little owl dress, Your little 'the Diner' lie, The daisies on your hip, I never want to make you cry. Red hair, green eyes, talking to your mother on a run, I know you drink black coffee, I know you beam like the sun.

Little Libby Loo on prom night, looked like an angel from heaven, And I wanted to punch our good friend Mike. Her loopy cursive on the porch, Marshmallows and CDs, Liz rambling over a lost penny. Dark hair, dark eyes, I'm Wesley, There isn't someone like you, Libby Loo, And now I can say you love me too.

HI!!!

hi peeps, first post here, so imma just dump a couple golden retriever puppy pics (not mine, googled a LOT tho)

oksie do imma zap out cuz i need to read a bookie (hint: it starts with h, 2 words, and rhymes with zipline :D)

bye peeps havea SPECTABULOUS DAY !!!<3<3

Blood on my hands

Her blood is on my hands I don't remember what happened last night All I see is a foggy glow All I hear is a shriek.

Her blood is on my hands I feel a weight on my chest My eyes are flooding I can't stop crying

A stone cold wall is against my back I can see my writings on the walls I see blood on my hands Even if it's not there at all.

I feel so confused and crazed And I'm running into walls So the blood that's on my hands Isn't yours.

I can't hear you Everything's fuzzy I see in black I see in blue On my hands a scarlet hue.

I finally wake from my bed Sweating through my clothes I can't see you I can't see you lying there But there's still blood on my hands Then I see the bruises on my hands

Then I realize With tears in my eyes And a pain in my head That it's all mine.

⚠️ heads-up!

Hilo, this poem's a bit darker than my usual ones -it's a fictional/poetic expression of trauma. So, if it feels too much, pls stop reading and do something silly, like pretend you're a chicken 🐔 💛

Paint

The picture in your mind when you think of art;

The artist on his pedestal place,

Dabbing his brush in paint,

Sweeping all his worries away.

The picture in your mind when you think of art;

A careful mix of colours and hues,

A careful tinge of another shade,

A story that never fades.

The picture in your mind when you think of art;

A bleak landscape of monochromes,

So very little tint,

A figure standing all alone.

The picture in your mind when you think of art;

Lush green landscapes,

So very simple,

A doorway to escape.

The picture in your mind when you think of art;

The artist on his pedestal place,

Painting a scene so lovely,

Whose model is as sweet as honey.