every reread kills me a little bit more
reread and enjoy <3
One Nice Bug Per Day
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Monterey Bay Aquarium
KIROKAZE
ojovivo

shark vs the universe
Jules of Nature
occasionally subtle

Origami Around

romaâ
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
RMH

ellievsbear
h

pixel skylines
Mike Driver
Fai_Ryy

PR's Tumblrdome

seen from Malaysia
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@heroic-poetry
every reread kills me a little bit more
reread and enjoy <3

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on self-love
?// @heavensghost // @roach-works //Richard Bach //?// @bakwaaas // @llleighsmith // Clarice Lispector// Anonymous
also a poem from the new, unreleased collection. very possibly my own all-time favourite.
Catherine Pierce

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suddenly remembered this poem as i was making breakfast this morning & frantically googled âpoem remembered to buy eggs?????????â & somehow managed to find it & it utterly knocked the wind out of me just as much as when i first read it
Sophia Loren / Unknown / @ ojibwa / AdĂŠlia Prado / Unmade Bed by Sally Strand / Paul Auster / Unknown / Lucille Clifton / Unknown Artist / Kaveh Akbar / Unknown Artist / Marguerite Duras / Claude Monet
The More Loving One
i. Wikipedia / ii. Unknown / iii. Remember My Name - Mitski / iv. You Cooked for Me - Caitlin Conlon / v. A Loving Feeling - Mitski / vi. starparkdesigns / vii. A Burning Hill - Mitski
You've Grown on Me
Maybe I was too quick
To judge,
Maybe I didnât understand you
At first,
Maybe I thought too harshly
Of you,
But youâve seem to grown
On me.
At first slightly and delicately;
A daisy,
Then faster, twisting up my leg;
A vine,
And most surprising of all;
Like fungus.
Your caps sprouting from my ears
Filtering the words I hear,
Your spores clouding my eyes
Blocking what is truly in front of me,
Your mycelium taking residence in my brain
Making sure I only think;
Of you.
Youâve grown on me.
A parasite grows in its host,
But who is hosting whom?

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marbles & dominos
â
he told me
not to romanticize the pigeons,
theyâre scavengers.
But they know not what they do
like the squirrels who plant trees for me & you
wild woods donât worry the way we do
and when the sidewalk chalk washed away,
words were even easier to say
.â˘.peako greenâ˘.â˘
Blisters from a Magic Lamp
Hands aching Red with friction Fighting the crave My addiction
Tarnished brass Worn with use Scratched and dented My abuse
Still no answer For my call All alone Wanting it all.
April 2023
Peako Prompts
â
1. blisters from a magic lamp
2. couldnât keep looking back
3. puddle of wax
4. a life interruption
5. thick line that runs through me
6. felt you on the tips of my fingers
7. bags too heavy to carry
8. but it fell out of me
9. left in the dust
10. quiet music in the hideaway
11. rinsing out the cell
12. a new moon away
13. oxygen to a collapsed lung
14. sharp accusations
15. stuck to the shadows
16. sour soap
17. the key to me
18. instead of the worst case scenario
19. you were my bookmark
.â˘.peako greenâ˘.â˘
â
Feel free to use the prompts however & whenever youâd like. Use any peako-related tags too. :)
Goose Shit by Evil Mary Oliver Who Lives in Your Head
You do have to be good. In fact, you have to be perfect. Having even one perturbation will disqualify you from going to the grocery store. You are obligated to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting, backwards, in underwear made of red-hot puff adders. You can't let that soft, fallible animal of your body love what it loves.  Are you kidding? Tell me about despair, yours, and keep telling me, and don't stop, or you'll completely explode and go to jail, and then hell. Meanwhile the world goes on without you. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of hailstones are beating down on your head, pouring into the buildings and deep gutters, the corpse-laden mountains and the rivers-- did you read that article about the one that turned bright yellow from pollution? Meanwhile the wild geese, hissing and shitting everywhere will not leave your yard. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, you can always get lonelier! And I can help. I call to you like the wild geese, harsh and intimidating, over and over announcing your place-- oop, sorry, never mind, someone else took it.
Secret
I donât care if
you keep me a secret
Like a note tucked away
Into your back pocket
.
I donât care if
Your finger touches your lips
When my name is mentioned
As long as my lips can follow suit
.
I donât care if
We only talk in hushed whispers
Because at least Iâm getting
To talk to you
.
I donât care if
You keep me a secret
Because if you keep me
At least Iâm yours.

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Burial
I died. I died. So long ago. So bury me in falling snow. No summer grave. Shall be my rest. Cast down in dirt, Bruised and undressed.
I died I died So long ago. Laid by a lake, No sight of snow. Young and fragile, In blood red ground Body discovered, My soul unfound.
I died. i died. So long ago. So bury me In falling snow. My time will come Again one day At peace Iâll be In frost Iâll lay
I died I died So long ago So build me up A pyre aglow A day will break Dusk into Dawn Smoke flashes in air Up to the sun.
I died I died So long ago Drowning on air Nowhere to grow. Muddy tracks, And bloody flesh Wash me with fire And leave me fresh
Hold me, holy, helpless
Shaking like an earthquake
Like a falling leaf in late
December, dearest, I am
So afraid of who I am and
Who I was and what these
Trembling hands cannot
Carry, I carry on with
Tattered wings full of
Soil, my soul is see-
Through in the sunâ
I was an angel, once