Party Medicine by itotallycantdraw-woo, literature
Literature
Party Medicine
When the stars in your head become a terrifying mirage,
You are easily fooled by lights and flashing signs.
Your stomach aches from every shot of poison
You let slide down your parched throat,
Scorching your delicate insides with laughter and fake feelings.
When you wake you'll feel unwell.
Memories of the joy will fade,
But don't you worry darling.
Have this drink
And you will be alright.
A snowflake kiss
On my lips
Over in a second
Melted away
A snowflake butterfly
On my eyes
Gone so fast
Dripping like tears
A snowflake embrace
As I lay down
Here for the moment
Till it turns to spring
A snowflake friend
Child-sized Angels
Watching over me
Till summer arrives
dear god,
i planted no tulips in autumn
and no tulips came in spring.
how silly of me, then
to mourn the empty garden,
to long for fields of amsterdam,
to kneel at night in cold dirt,
hands folded.
i’ve learned there is
a certain ache in lacking
a thing never had, that small itch
whose relief is two seasons past –
so god, if you can hear me,
know that i am homesick
for amsterdam,
whose name, like yours, i know
but whose flowers i cannot see.
A Message of Positivity by MagnumMaster, literature
Literature
A Message of Positivity
Hey.
You.
Yes, you.
You, looking at this screen.
You can do it.
No matter what it is, no matter how much you believe you can't, you can. Don't be afraid of failure, because failure is just a part of life. But don't let it drag you down; instead, let it empower you to succeed. Because without the wisdom of failure, we would never know the knowledge of sweet success.
Many great leaders, innovators, and visionaries of our time and the time before us have fallen so far during their lives, some more than others. But they aren't famous and well-known because of their failures, rather because they got up and rose higher and higher than they ev
an open letter to my twelve year old self by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
an open letter to my twelve year old self
one day you will cut all your hair off,
and hang up a map of the world in your
room and you will look at it on days
you think your life is going nowhere.
i hate to tell you this, but this isn’t
your worst year. it also isn’t your
best.
one day you will cut all your hair off
and realize that some poems need to be read
out loud, to an audience, so you’ll take a hammer
and some nails and build yourself one
out of a girl whose veins look fragile but
whose bones are strong, a boy who isn’t as tall as
he thinks he is, but whose lifelines are the deepest
you’ve ever seen, and a girl whose eyes remind you of the
east
Down here, the floor smells like yesterday’s washing and just a hint of mould below the window. Down here, I can scream into the carpet and nobody will notice. Newly reborn, I am a babe of dust, leftover crumbs and the corners where no-one will find me.
Weeks have passed since I hugged the walls with their tack-stained white: weeks since I peeled at the edges and my paper-thin weight dragged me from my pedestal. Shed, I was, like the leaves of last summer, cast at the base of the bed and left to crease and wither and gather the filth the cleaners missed.
It’s cold down here, cold but not lonely, for I am hung with the husks of o
who i am far outweighs who i was by MisfitableGrae, literature
Literature
who i am far outweighs who i was
last night i pressed a hand up against my ribcage
and imagined how it would feel
to touch the bones there.
once, i could have seen them.
but it’s been years and years since then,
and sure, sometimes there are days i can only drink
tea and lie about how much food i’ve eaten,
but there are other days i even eat
breakfast and i know that doesn’t sound like a big
deal, but trust me, it is.
last night i went through my closet
and took out every shirt i shoved to the back
of my drawers four years ago like a dirty secret,
too small by half, but kept in the hopes that
some day in the future it might hang right
on my shoulders ag