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<3

you know, all i like to write about is love.  writing is easier when it’s about your own personal experiences of grief, of pain but love is the beautiful dove of the two  released at a funeral, released at a wedding. , because the definition is different for everybody. — the trees rustle again tonight, and the wind gently taps on the windowpane, begging again to be let in and my thoughts race farther and faster in the night than a pure-bred, hot-blooded racehorse, bucking wild for the first time my mind buzzes, stricken like a gong, reverberating in the quietness of tonight as i drag myself closer to you, you reach out for me, an unspoken, gentle and devout prayer, asking for me in the unspeakable words conveyed in a whisper through actions – i promised you a fantastical world of your own, where you are safe, through my own creation. i have created for you in the heart of my own somewhere for me to love you,  fully and infinitely with all of myself. if this is not where you are safe, then there is nothing else. –  word by word and sentence by sentence i create dreams i would never tell anybody not even under the skies of a cloudless night. when i sleep, i tuck my hopes and sadness under my pillow and hope a fairy will kidnap it and place in that spot something i should need more. but night after night, my dreams just macerate in the container of my heart. soon, i will drink them like an elixir of truth and what i am afraid of will come

@neiternal

2d ago

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the ocean

there is something figuratively beautiful about the things we know and don’t know, the sublime and mundane and when you visit the beach, do you ever think about if the animals who live in the embrace of the depths remember the beauty of the ocean? where the salt envelops every single one of us,  accepting us as kin letting her wind tousle our raw, visceral edges  and pepper them with her sea-foamed kisses  which tell me that it’s okay to pretend and okay to tell the ocean all of myself the ocean reaches out to me, hands cloaked in the sharp coolness of water and something else- something i don’t understand as I poke around in a tide pool, like a vendor at a bustling market, observing the wares that the ocean has to offer and i turn around and ask her, do the barnacles see themselves? do anemones understand their own beauty, fragile and ephemeral?  i don’t think they do.  but the ocean doesn’t have any words for me, instead shutting my mouth with a shhhh  as her sandy dress rustles down the shore, laced with white foam and gossamer trails of ripples and wordlessly, tells me to look  and i do.  until the sun hurriedly retreats from the wispy radiance of the moon, enrobed in puffy clouds and it's just the three of us. the moon tugs at the ocean’s hand, dancing to their own secret rhythm,  letting me see them in their love. personally, i think it’s beautiful \\ and i wish i had something like it and the ocean laughs. nothing jeering or ridiculing, simply an acknowledgement that i understand. everything around me falls,  like petals cast off from a chrysanthemum. and then, we were wordless  like the ocean had never spoken in the first place.  i want to descend into the depths of the ocean one day, to be hugged once more and never again. not because i am tired of being alive, but frankly within me exists too much zeal to live. uncontrollable surges of wow i am alive in flesh, blood through my veins, and thoughts in my head become more addictive than any form of fentanyl, cocaine, heroin  and better than any gateway into a better life  or a better existence, transcending normality and the moment it’s just me in my head, without the viscous energy of being alive suddenly drains me like a leaking bucket, decrepit and dry. i want to burn like a torch, setting my world alight into embers, into flames,  into an inferno.  Sunrise:: being alight || with a halo of only thoughts and dreams || and the divinity of something new

@neiternal

2d ago

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9th grade poetry for school

just something i wrote for an assignment in 9th grade English. also if you recognize the mitski quote hidden in the poem don't tell my school I plagiarized pretty please i. I am to be born anew in ten days.  I can feel it In my skin. It pulses under the flesh Like a river, rushing through my veins. A change is fast approaching and I am not strong enough to withstand it. ii. I am too vulnerable, too fragile to change. I am one to be crushed under a boot, I cannot endure this change that will come in 9 days' time.  I am afraid. Afraid. iii. My mother changed only weeks ago. She is as young as I soon will be. Her children, my siblings, are many. I am one in one thousand and I will be lost in a haze of orange when we change. It will be brilliant, it will be, Fleeting. Our beauty will last only seconds in the eyes of those who look upon us. Mother, I am to be young again.  Mother, were you scared? Were you scared mother? I am scared of the change to come. iv. My hunger grows with each passing day, as does my fear. Some of my siblings have already started to settle. They seek out the places closer to the sky, as if, even in this life before the next, they long to be weightless, held only by the cold wind that I feel on my back.  They do not seem afraid, as I am. They turn their heads to the sky, facing down the wide expanse of blue like the ant faces a hurricane. They do not cower, only waiting for the change they know is coming. They are resilient in ways I am not. I am not, I am not, I am not. Please, I am not them, please, I cannot withstand this. I am afraid, do you hear?  I, who make no sound, am screaming I am afraid of the change to come. v. Today, I reflect. My life, as short as it is, is coming to an end. In five days, I will become someone else. In five days, I am to live a new life in a new body.  Mother, you are dying soon. Soon, my new body will replace yours in the kaleidoscope. Soon, mother, soon. I do not want to leave the ground, I do not want to take flight like I am intended to. Mother, soon, too soon.  vi. I have begun the change.  Soon, mother. Soon. ix. This barrier between me and my new world has begun to crack. I push at the walls of my chrysalis with new arms, new legs. This new body has not seen the outside world but it is unafraid. How? How did something so sensitive become a rock in a river? I had thought, before my new mind settled in my head, that my fear would remain.  Even if my body had changed, my mind would remain. But it has not, and I am just like my siblings. Their resilience which I had only witnessed when I had looked into their dark eyes, and seen the look on their faces, has become mine.  Oh mother, is this how you felt? Was I wrong to ask if you were afraid? You were, weren’t you? Just like me, my mother, like me. And like me you weathered your storm, you were born anew and unafraid. i. I am different. I feel it, in a way unlike any other. My body has changed but my mind as well. Before, I was guided by the will to survive. Before, I was not looking to the skies because there was nothing in them for me to look at, but now, now my weary head turns to the sky as almost second nature. It calls to me, to my newborn wings and my young resolve to conquer it.  I am finally living. Mother, is this what you felt like? Did you live as well? This change, this change, I am alive, for the first time, I live.   Oh, mother, I am not afraid. I will face the skies,         Unafraid.        And the wind will push my frail body   but I will not fall, no,         These new wings,  they will take flight and I will rise, Do you hear? Mother? I will rise, just like you.  I am born anew.

@salmune

May 13, 2024

Top Recs from @annaispunk

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letting grief stay awhile/feeling your feelings

my dad died when i was young. today is his birthday, he would’ve been 64. this day usually passes as normal, but this year i’m feeling particularly sad, and i am trying to feel those feelings fully instead of numbing them

@annaispunk

Jul 1, 2024

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the bell jar by sylvia plath

i just finished down the drain by julia fox today too!! also you are going to LOVE my brilliant friend/the neapolitan quartet!!!! my favorite books fr

@annaispunk

Jul 17, 2024

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i need to carry my whole life with me in my bag

my everyday bag is a large baggu crescent bag, and it is the love of my life. i have a variety of pins on display that say, “help the police-beat yourself up!”, “mean lesbian”, and “the moral panic is about ME!!!” i keep my wallet and coin-purse in the one little inside-pocket, along with lip balm/gloss, airpods AND wired earbuds, pencils/pens, lighters, my trusty bus pass, and an unlimited use kiss coupon from my partner. in the main part of the bag i have a smaller bag full of stimming toys and communication cards (and gum and more lip gloss). i also have a taser, one reusable bag (just in case!), my journal (i’ve been trying to keep a commonplace book), my kobo libra color, my vape, a few joints in a cute kitten cigarette case, and a pack of american spirits (the teal ones are superior). not pictured: owala water bottle and any given crochet project

@annaispunk

Sep 4, 2024