MY HEART IS THE CANVAS

tattoo these words onto my soul
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  • what other good poem accounts do you follow?

    @Anonymous

    I don’t really follow poetry blogs! 

    Posted 7 hours ago With 0 notes

    write more soon !

    @Anonymous

    I’ll try to!

    Posted 7 hours ago With 0 notes

    how do you become so talented in your writing? what did you do?

    @Anonymous

    Awh thanks! ^^ 

    This advice is super overused, but I read constantly, and I write constantly. My writing a year or two ago? It was so terrible. And in a year I’ll probably look back on what I’ve written today and think it’s terrible, too. However, at least I can compare my work and realise that I’m so much better now than I was then. 

    But yeah, reading has really, really helped. I’ve noticed the more I read, the more I get into the mood to write, and the more I write, the better I get. Read a variety of books, too. Obviously it’s fine to have staple books that you go back to, but try reading things that are out of your comfort zone. And read some poetry! 

    Also, write about anything and everything. Literally. Write about waiting in traffic lights, or burnt toast, or bedsheets. Find new ways to describe things. This sounds weird, but you’ll broaden your vocab and your writing will improve. Do crosswords. I mean, I don’t do that, but I should.

    Okay last thing: don’t be too hard on yourself. If you write something and it sucks, that’s okay because at least you’ve written something. If you start hating something you write, leave it. Leave it somewhere in a folder on your computer and don’t come back to it for months. Then you’ll have a fresh mind and you’ll be able to work through it without feeling sick of it. 

    Just keep reading, keep writing, and don’t think too much about it.

    Hope this helped!!! Have a lovely day.

    Posted 3 days ago With 4 notes

    what do you do when you have writers block? when your thoughts advocate your mind and you have so much to say but you can't?

    @Anonymous

    Honestly, when that happens, I usually just don’t write. If my mind is completely full with thoughts, I’ll tend to just wait until they pass, or do something to distract myself. I just have to trust that eventually I’ll find a thought I can grab onto long enough to hold onto it and make something out of it. 

    Sometimes though, I might get lots of ideas at once, and instead of letting them go, I’ll grab my phone and start all of them, without the pressure of having to finish them, if that makes sense. I know that I can come back to them later and make them into a poem or something if I want to, or just leave them if I don’t. It’s nice to have them somewhere though.

    I know this might not have helped, but I kind of just go with how I’m feeling in the moment, and sometimes having lots of thoughts is fun because it means I get to write poem after poem after poem, or story after story after story, but sometimes, when I have lots of thoughts, I decide I don’t want to hold onto them. 

    Also, in terms of general writers block (where I’m simply stuck and have no clue what to write), I’ll just have a go-to topic, which is usually love or loneliness, and I’ll try and describe them in different ways, or pull experiences up that involve them, and start from there. And going for walks is nice for observing. And keep a diary. Even if what you end up writing in it is completely random or doesn’t make sense.

    Sorry this was so long! I hope it helped at least a little. Have a lovely day.

    Posted 3 days ago With 1 note

    “I’d always heard that falling in love
    wasn’t a one-foot-in-one-foot-out kind of thing,
    it was more like the moment
    when you’re so afraid that you find
    you can’t scream, except instead you’re
    so in love that you can’t say a thing
    in case you mess up when you try to tell them
    that they’re you’re everything.
    Falling in love was realising that
    if they asked, you’d say ‘yes,’ even if you
    had to take a moment to catch your
    breath or imagine yourself walking down the aisle
    in a suit or dress, imagining their smile
    as you held your head high as you possibly
    could, not taking your eyes off each other.
    Falling in love was Tuesday afternoon, ‘just got
    home from work’ kisses leading to the bed,
    and Friday evening tears falling
    onto their favourite shirt as they held you
    in their arms, tight as they could as if to say,
    ‘I’ll never let you go’. Falling in love
    was knowing that you’d never leave without
    ever having to say the words. It was
    texting to check you’re okay at work. It was
    remembering just how they liked their coffees and
    teas, it was bringing an extra straw in
    case the restaurant didn’t provide one, it was
    knowing what they were thinking just
    by looking into their eyes, it was thinking you
    knew what they were thinking and laughing when you
    got it wrong, it was fighting and making up
    before you’d even gotten out of bed, it was
    ‘I love you I love you I love you’ and it was found in
    the creases on the bedsheets and the
    pen marks on the walls and the slightly ajar
    windows and the mess upon the floor and
    falling in love was knowing that
    they’d answer if you called, even if they
    were busy and even if you only called to hear
    their voice for a second.
    Sometimes, falling in love was
    tired ‘goodnight’s and red, puffy eyes,
    and stupid fights.
    But falling in love, mostly, was nights like tonight
    where you were looking into their eyes
    even though your favourite movie was on and
    all you were wondering was how anyone
    could ever be so wonderful.”

    Ideals // r.e.s

    Posted 4 days ago With 172 notes

    “Loving you made me hard, and sick
    of having such an open heart,
    and afraid that everyone who claims to love me
    is a liar.
    Now, I’m closed off at best,
    and silent most days, and I’ve never
    really trusted people
    but now my best friend is sick of wondering
    if I’m okay, and my heart is all over
    but no one can see it.
    Now, I’m mostly empty and
    often defeated.
    Loving you was the best thing
    that ever happened to me, but it was
    an opportunity that ended
    before I had the chance to show my best qualities.
    I’m afraid that you feel sick
    when you think of me.
    Loving you made me hope, and kept
    me alive for a while, and it gave me a future
    when all I wanted was to die, and
    it may of turned me into a piece of shit
    in the end, and maybe it was all
    a game of pretend, and maybe now I’m too damn
    scared to put my heart on the line,
    but some of the best days of my stupid life
    were the days when you were mine.”

    LOVING YOU / LOSING YOU by r.e.s

    Posted 1 week ago With 113 notes

    14
    
the things I could be doing // r.e.s

    I wanted to tell you about the
    fluttering of my heart when I first heard
    your voice but I didn’t
    want you to pass me off as
    an overly hopeless romantic who
    believed feeling butterflies was
    the first step in the road towards marriage.

    And I wanted to tell you I couldn’t breathe
    when you weren’t talking to me
    but I had always sworn to myself that
    I wouldn’t become dependant on
    anyone or anything, and saying that
    you helped me breathe made me feel so
    weak that I began to hate myself.

    I wanted to make a list of all the things
    I loved about you and write it
    into a cliché song or poem with a witty
    title but I realised I had written
    so many songs and poems about
    you that maybe you’d realise how much
    I feared losing you and you’d use it against me.

    I wanted to be my best when I was
    around you but somehow you brought out
    my weaknesses and when you told
    me we all have some darkness
    within us, I looked at you and thought
    you must’ve been lying, because
    you were sitting right in front of me and all
    that came from you was light.

    I wanted to be your everything but
    I was just the reflection of the moon on
    your bedroom window, the way you wished
    you felt when you woke up from a long sleep,
    the hope that distance would one day
    cease to exist, and that was more
    than I ever could’ve hoped to be, but
    somehow, it was not enough.

    I WASN’T ENOUGH | r.e.s

    Posted 2 weeks ago With 290 notes

    “#1 it’s really unfair of you to just not let anyone know you’re okay. i was so worried. i still am.
    #2 sometimes, it’s like i need a reminder that we’re not still together. i took the pictures of you off my wall and the spaces where they used to be are blank now.
    #3 maybe we should stop doing the thing we do where we don’t talk to each other. the the we used to do where we texted non-stop? that was so much better. we can make a game out of it if you’d like… i can’t do this anymore. i miss you. please come back.
    #4 so i’ve been trying out this new thing where i don’t think about you, except it’s still not working. ha. do you do the same?
    #5 it hurts so fucking much it’s like you’ve rented out this space in my head but refuse to pay the fee and now i’m sitting here trying to shake you out but you’ve always been so stubborn and it’s not working it’s not working it’s not working. why are you so intent on destroying me?”

    five texts I’ve wanted to send you today // r.e.s

    Posted 2 weeks ago With 48 notes

    “It’s not always easy to say “that’s that” and
    continue with life. Sometimes,
    your ribcage becomes a home for
    the darkness and you find yourself having
    to walk for miles through caves
    before you find your heart. Sometimes,
    you don’t find it at all.
    Sometimes, you spend hours with
    you fingers to your wrist,
    your chest, your neck, trying to
    find a pulse just to prove you’re alive. Sometimes,
    you decide that’s not enough.
    Sometimes, you can’t find it within you
    to wash the bedsheets, or the papers that are
    piling up on your desk, and you find
    that even the mess all over the floor hardly
    compares to the one inside your fucking head.
    Sometimes, the noise gets so loud
    that you want to scream when someone
    tries to say “hello” and they can be
    as friendly as ever, but all
    you can think is “I don’t deserve it I don’t
    deserve it I DON’T DESERVE IT” and
    you have to analyse every
    conversation you’ve had, trying to
    figure out whether their kindness is fake,
    and no matter how many times
    they’ve smiled at you
    and hugged you and whispered “I love you”
    you still can’t convince yourself
    that they do. Sometimes, you lock the
    window and hide the key and
    you pull up the covers over your head even
    though they’re getting dirty
    and you turn off your phone and close
    your eyes really tight and
    put your hands over your ears, but
    you find you still can’t shut the world out
    and the noise is still so loud
    and you scream into the pillow
    and you find that you can’t fucking cry
    so you ask yourself “why?” and
    you come to a conclusion. You spend
    three hours whispering “I deserve it I deserve
    it” and then it’s bouncing off the walls
    inside your head “I DESERVE IT” and
    when you finally get out of bed
    and text your best friend,
    all they say is “why didn’t you answer
    when I called” and all you can
    think is “nobody’s home”.
    And you’re so sick of the emptiness
    that you tear at your skin
    just to prove that there’s something
    inside, and that maybe even,
    you’re full. You’re so desperate to feel something
    that you climb the highest tree
    you can find and hope that someone
    will break your fall, you scrub
    yourself for hours until the dirt is all gone
    and you inspect your fingernails
    when your done and finally convince
    yourself that you’re not dirty,
    you put ice on your ears as if that’ll
    soothe the marks of the words
    that’ve been thrown at you.
    It’s not a sad story until you make it
    one, so you stitch your lips
    into a smile and laugh until your
    throat is fucking sore, and
    then you laugh even more because
    that’s what it takes to get
    it through to your head that this
    is it and you’re gonna have to
    live like this for a long time, for most
    of your life, or at least,
    sometimes.”

    SOMETIMES // r.e.s

    Posted 2 weeks ago With 36 notes

    “There are still so many pieces of you in me that sometimes I pass a mirror and have to stop to check who’s staring back. And it’s not just that we look sort of similar on the outside, it’s that I still can remember the first and last words you said to me. They play on a loop in my mind sometimes; the soundtrack of us. In a few simple words. But that’s sad.
    Sometimes I begin to write a sentence and I mistakenly write your name. I stand in line at the grocery store and pick up your favourite drink without realising there will be no one to give it to when I get home. I see someone wearing the jumper you wanted so desperately, and I’m so close to asking them where they got it from.
    And I can still picture the light of the laptop screen illuminating your face long after the neighbours lights are turned off for the night. The shrug of your shoulder when you said ‘I love you’. The beer bottle pressed to your lips as if it’s your only salvation. I wish I could shake that last image, but sometimes it glues itself to the back of my eyelids and I have to stop myself from blinking. If I do, I think I’d suffocate.
    I’ve gotten slightly better at looking away when I pass mirrors, or holding back from buying your favourite drink, or imagining what you might be doing on a night like tonight, with all the stars shining brightly like that.
    But I still forget sometimes, that you’re not here and you won’t ever be, and the realisation that I’ve carried your jumper all the way home with no one waiting for it has me stopping right on the doorstep, key in hands and tears in my eyes. The realisation that I’ve been carrying you with me all this time. I’m not sure yet how to let go.”

    The You In Me // r.e.s

    Posted 3 weeks ago With 51 notes

    57
    The Clouds, The Stars, And You // r.e.s

    “I was never able to unwrap
    myself from around
    your little finger.
    But now it seems I
    can’t unwrap the bed sheets
    from my legs.
    So I’m caught up in all
    these bed sheets whilst
    my best friends are falling
    in love with each other
    and I’m falling in love
    with the nothingness
    in me instead.”

    Falling In Love | r.e.s

    Posted 3 weeks ago With 37 notes

    “I can feel everything in this moment so deeply, and it hurts, it hurts, it goddamn hurts. I can feel the spaces between my fingers, where yours are supposed to be. I can feel the emptiness beside me when I lay down on the grass in the local park, how I never got to show you the trees I used to hide behind. I can feel the missing pieces of me more than the pieces I have left. If there’s anything left. Is there? I can feel the thump-thump of my heart all over again, except it’s not speeding up like it did when you said you loved me, more like when you said you didn’t anymore. I can feel myself draining, and I’m scared of how fast it’s all rushing out of me. But most of all, I can feel the space that separates us like a gaping whole in my chest that it hurts to walk through. I can feel the time since we last spoke growing longer and longer; the words you last said to me are a constant whisper in the back of my mind. I can feel how little you miss me. I can feel it like a gun against my chest, and your finger on the trigger. And god, I can’t stop shaking.”

    I can’t stop shaking // r.e.s

    Posted 3 weeks ago With 120 notes

    hello, so I’m going to be on holiday for about five days or so, and I didn’t get time to queue any poems. Im really sorry but I’ll upload something as soon as I get back ^.^ I hope all of you have a fabulous week

    Posted 1 month ago With 1 note