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Other β™•βœ¦ β€”β€’ πšœπš™πšŠπšŒπšŽπš 𝚘𝚞𝚝

intergalactic

𝙖 π™¬π™–π™¨π™©π™š 𝙀𝙛 π™ͺ𝙧 𝙨π™₯π™–π™˜π™š

【 πšœπš™πšŠπšŒπšŽπš 𝚘𝚞𝚝 】— π™žπ™£ π™¬π™π™žπ™˜π™ 𝙖 π™œπ™žπ™§π™‘ π™£π™–π™’π™šπ™™ π™«π™šπ™£π™ͺ𝙨 π™¨π™π™–π™§π™šπ™¨ π™π™šπ™§ 𝙩𝙝𝙀π™ͺπ™œπ™π™©π™¨, π™™π™§π™šπ™–π™’π™¨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 π™₯π™€π™šπ™’π™¨ π™¬π™žπ™©π™ π™©π™π™š 𝙬𝙀𝙧𝙑𝙙

β—†
 

intergalactic

𝙖 π™¬π™–π™¨π™©π™š 𝙀𝙛 π™ͺ𝙧 𝙨π™₯π™–π™˜π™š
have i told you...

i hate waking up to
these awful blue-color
painted walls and
this old, creaky
wooden floor.

after pressing dismiss
on the fourth alarm
that’s gone off in the a.m.
that’s titled wake the f*** up,

i always stay put for a
moment or so, trying
to make out what it is that’s
going through my mind so
early this time around.

often times, it’s mostly doubt.
trying to piece together what
it is this day could possibly
bring about, because i know
most times i’d rather never
get up at all.
and it’s never anything major.
it’s the simple, familiar things.
have i told you how i love
watching the sun wash the
room in colors of gold?
how, even though i hate it
hitting my eyes, i love it when
the sunlight warms my skin.

as soon as it’s noticed signs
of life, i know there’ll be
a little cat named muffin
that won’t let up on meowing
straight into my ears, surely wanting
it’s breakfast served already.

have i told you there’s a song i
always play before getting
anything else done?
sea by bts.
you should have a listen
sometime. tell me what your
thoughts are. but first, let me
tell you mine.

there’s something about the
song that stirs up so many
emotions from me. i can’t
place it, can’t name it, can’t
find the right words to describe
everything, but it’s almost like a
hurricane gone off in my chest.
but before any keys or notes
are played, and before any lines
are sang, there’s nothing but the
calming sound of waves.

and, even when being stuck in
this small room with my
overwhelming thoughts inside
my head, and the desire to
simply fall back asleep and
never wake up again, there’s
something that, somehow,
draws a smile from me.
every time i head the sound of
waves, i swear, i think of you.
i just can’t get it out of my
head, i can’t get you out of
my head.

the thought of being by the
shoreline next to you...
it warms me up in a way
i can’t explain.
i want to feel your hands
intertwined with mine.
i want to see a smile on
your face while we walk
barefoot in the sand,
nothing but the sunset to
testify as witness to
a trivial moment that means
the world to me.

have i told you that, with that
thought in mind, i get up with
a stupid smile on my face,
cursing at the terrible blue
walls and soon telling the
mirror that i am, ultimately,
hopelessly in love.


___________

note: i wrote this a few days ago, after visiting the beach with my family, and saw an adorable couple walking down the side of the beach, hand-in-hand, smiling as though their they had never felt such happiness in their lives. it warmed my heart so much i was almost inspired immediately.

β€” xoxo, v
 

intergalactic

𝙖 π™¬π™–π™¨π™©π™š 𝙀𝙛 π™ͺ𝙧 𝙨π™₯π™–π™˜π™š
i wish i could run away

i wish i could disappear from this town
and travel around
go to a quiet place
without you, just for now
see strangers passing by
and the lights fade away
go to a place with a weird name
i just want to run away...

poems can be beautiful
when the love can’t stay
but if the pain is here
i’m going to suffocate
peace is what i look for
but i only found the poor
my poor heart is broken
but happiness came
my life was upside down
and now i’m glad to say
i am running away


___________

note: this is one of my first poems i’d ever written, when i was around twelve and was very, very depressed. it might not make sense, but i’m proud of the improvements i’ve made over the years. anyway, i’ll probably be posting poems and other things on this thread daily, so prepare yourself for many, many notes to come.

β€” with love, venus
 

intergalactic

𝙖 π™¬π™–π™¨π™©π™š 𝙀𝙛 π™ͺ𝙧 𝙨π™₯π™–π™˜π™š
tick tock

tick tock, tick tock,
can you hear the
sound of the clock?
going around in the
same steps, getting
ready for the next
hour. ready for the
next set of pain.

tick tock, tick tock,
do you hear its
screams? watch
out before it sees
you. your fears
are a blessing,
but be careful,
they’re catching
up to you. do
you hear their
whispers?

tick tock, tick tock,
it sees you as it
goes around
every corner in
your mind. help
is nowhere, you
can’t be saved. do
you feel it’s pain?
do you feel it more
than your own?

tick tock, tick tock,
what did you do
this time? how
can you rip your
heart out, and
still live by the
rules? this road
is to hell, you
better turn back
now. there’s no
going back when
the hour strikes
twelve.


___________

note: another old poem that i’m so much prouder of opposed to the other one, and as i was rewriting it from my journal, all i could think about was writing β€˜TIK TOK’.

please kill me

β€” happy memes, venus
 

intergalactic

𝙖 π™¬π™–π™¨π™©π™š 𝙀𝙛 π™ͺ𝙧 𝙨π™₯π™–π™˜π™š
fear

the pouring rain was making the brown leaves wet. and as they fell, they fell with a harvest rhythm. saying goodbye to its roots and making its own way.

the little birds were trying to find shelter. but their wings were never going to stop moving. their hearts beat for their survival. they had to do this. for their children.

he stared at the plump, red apples laying amid the wet grass. the ones he used to collect with his grandmother. she would make juice out of the red ones, and save the green ones for a cool summer day. the smell of apple pie stained into his memories.

tears were dripping down his face when the thunder began. it increasingly became louder as he stood near his open window. he wanted to close it, to make the tears stop. but his hatred for thunder was overruled by his love for the sound of pouring rain.

eventually, the lightning came. he could never decide whether he hated or loved lightning. it was so beautifully misunderstood, but had caused so many people sorrow. and could easily strike fear into others. as it did to him now.

it lit up the dark night sky, and caused the mountains to stand out from the dark. he was afraid, surely as anyone would be. and it was obvious, as tears rolled down his cheeks, but kept flitting away, and somehow finding its way back. maybe it was the sounds. the sounds made him sad. it ruined the sounds of the pouring rain. it made frightened birds call out in fear for their mothers and fathers.

he cried for his grandmother. for she hadn’t collected those beautiful apples standing outside his window for years now. she couldn’t. he was sure that she wanted to, but she couldn’t reach for them.

she was out of reach, even for him.
she was lost in the pouring rain, taken away by the thunder and lighting that brings him so much sorrow.


___________

note: hey, sorry for not postings yesterday. i got really busy and found out i had plans with a few friends. anyways, i wrote this poem when i was in the ninth grade and my best friend’s grandmother had passed. he was so distraught and kept reminiscing about how he loved apple-picking with her and how he would look to her for comfort in the middle of a thunder storm when he was younger. i never told him that i wrote it, but now that i’m posting it, i guess my secret is out.

i wrote this for you, jeremy.

stay safe, v
 

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