Poetry-eater-offical

Grandfather (because apparently I have one of those now):

@cthulhu-offical

Grandmother:

@your-grandma-offical

Father (why are you STILL FUCKING ALIVE):

@the-pineapple-offical

Partners:

@leviathan-offical, @time-offical, @lightningmcqueenoffical

Secret side piece:

@horsemen-apocalypse

Children:

@leviathan-offical, @knights-templar-offical <- account deactivated for being a tgirl but that don't mean she can't still be my child, @faa-offical, @the-figure-offical, @grims-horse-offical, @knife-offical, @grim-reapers-scythe-offical, @guillotine-offical, @mothman-offical, @prophet-offical, @throckmorton-offical, @propaganda-offical, @weatherboy-offical, up next anon, @teeth-offical, @femboy-offical, @steve-offical, @revenge-offical, @offical-wikipedia, @totally-not-a-fake-official, @therestlesswon, @state-of-utah-offical, @disaster-offical, @blacknailpolishoffical, @raven-offical, @murder--offical, @corviddetector, @crowthecleo, @crowsofthemountain, @atlass-random-stuff, @ominous-crows-offical, @crownote, @crow-human, @shaethecrow, @appalachian-heathens, @confusedfroggirl, @crow-offical, Jin Ling, @patrick-star-ofishul, @cervical-vertebrae-offical, @adam-gontier-offical, @child-of-the-super-nova, @therealcomradestrawberry, @thephantomoffical

Pets:

@boykisser-official, @offical-girlkisser, @traffic-cone-borrower, @nobody-kisser-offical

Employees:

@silly-lil-employee, flat foot anon, @the-first-imp-offical, @keyboard-offical, @ominous-crows-offical

Relatives:

@ur-least-fav-gal-offical, @can-tab-eater-offical, @death-from-final-destination, @random-citizen-offical

People who are basically a part of the family at this point:

@logan-eo-offical, @fancy-rock-offical, willow anon, @tyrannosaurus-rex-offical, high anon

Grandchildren:

@jeff-offical, @archangel-raphael-offical, @poetry-eater-offical, @drinking-offical

In-laws:

@archangel-uriel-offical, @gayinsanitysquared, @catboy-offical, @red-solo-cup-offical

slight triggers: unaccepting parent (father) and self deprecation

Blues 

I’m sorry I’m not right 

I’m sorry I’m not yours 

I wish I could try 

But I want something more 

I’m trying to tell you 

Please, open your eyes! 

My body isn’t right 

“Your body isn’t yours?” 

My soul is escaping 

That’s the whole truth 

You see me in pink 

I see me in blues. 

I am not right. 

My body isn’t mine. 

But this is my choice 

And I’m gonna try. 

Sorry, I love you dad, 

But can you love me? 

I’m also the mod of @poetry-eater-offical and I’m super new also :)

Perfect saint sent from Heaven

I trust you with everything I am

I do

I hang onto your every word

So much that I leave my own unsaid

You are more than the nights we spent together

More than the lives we’ve lived

More than the pain we’ve felt to keep meeting

Your kiss is something like a knife to my throat

Your touch burns me in the best way possible

I do this knowing it will hurt

You do it without knowing how much it pains me

We were a tragedy from the start

One I couldn’t bring myself to step away from

One that is just barely out of my reach

I’m terrified of the fact that I can’t see our ending

Afraid of the hope it gives me

That we might end the way I’m wishing for

Sweet sugar, rotting my teeth

I’ll swallow you for as long as you’ll let me

For as mush as you aren’t mine

I still get to have you

Just for this night

Am I something to you?

Am I a pass-time, an exploration?

Do you have it in yourself to throw me away?

I’m pulled along by your love

It takes less than a step for me to follow

A leash you don’t realize you’re holding

That you’d put down if you knew

I want to be her

For all our similarities

I wear leather gloves, and she wears silver rings

I’m a junkie, an addict, she’s someone your parents accept

I’m a boy, she’s a girl

I adore you

In spite of the future

Where we’d never be able to get married

Have children

Kiss in public

All things you could have with her

I want to be your everything

I want to be what’s stuck in your head before you fall asleep

I want you to hug your pillow and wish it was me

I want you to kiss her and think of me

I want to look at the grass stains on my ripped jeans and remember the nights we made out in open fields

I never want to wash those stains out

I want you to feel the same way I feel about you

How your face lingers in my daydreams

I want to be the poet to your muse

The chaos to your order

The model for your art

The smell of cigarettes that you can’t quite wash out of your old t-shirt

I don’t just want to be a memory, an experience, a high school mistake

Because I don’t want to leave you

Still, I know that we can’t be any of these things

As long as we still have to hide in alleyways to touch each other

Have to duck into my empty apartment to kiss

I know that we’re a tragedy

I just wish love could really alter fate

I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the night we first met. Outside a bar, I was just leaving when you were first going in. You stopped, looked at me, complimented my hair and you decided you didn’t want to go to the bar that night. You wanted to be with me.

Nothing really ever happened between us. We walked together that night, not even holding hands. We didn’t even kiss. We barely even touched, but your words were enough for me to think we had something real between us.

October 26th 2023. The day I met you.

The weeks after that went by fast as we took them for granted. We texted a lot, not meeting again in real life because we lived far away. You were busy with school while I was busy writing a book. We had our own lives that sometimes intertwined, but they never became one even though that was what we both badly wanted. We stayed up some nights, just flirting like it was the most natural thing in the world. I had never spoken to somebody so easily before.

I took it for granted. I hated that feeling I got in my stomach after texting you. I wanted the texting to never stop because I loved it so much. The things we had in common, the small arguments, the banter and the compliments. They’re all the things I badly miss, so I forced myself to leave them behind.

The end of November, still 2023. I blocked you on everything. I had ghosted you. Your friend texted me. I blocked him too. I was done with you. I couldn’t handle the fact I liked you or possibly even loved you. Yes, loved. I only knew you for a month and I thought I knew what love was. I thought this was love. We weren’t even dating. It was something just to pass the time - your time, but for me it still keeps me up at night. Just like tonight and I just had to leave it out.

Mid December, still 2023. I reached out. I texted you. I fucking missed you. I missed a man I barely even knew. You texted back. You asked for my socials. I said no. I said I couldn’t fall for you again. You said you’d text me at Christmas. Conversation was over.

December 21st 2023, I texted you a simple “I miss you”. It was true. You hadn’t left my mind since the day I first texted you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You texted back and this time I gave in and gave you my socials and we were back to the way we were for.. four days that I took for granted.

December 25th 2023, you told me the news I should have expected to come. You had a boyfriend. A boyfriend. You met him on the train one day. He was great you said. Everything you ever dreamt of. You were everything I ever dreamt of. I wasn’t even mad at you. That’s the thing that may surprise you. I was honestly happy for you. You got your happy ending to what was going on between us. You were able to move on. You got the boyfriend. You got the magic pass to get over me. There was nothing to get over though. We were never anything. It was just something to pass the time. I was something to pass the time.

October 26th 2024, exactly a year after we first met outside that bar. We met again. You were crying. You never cry. You had broken up with your boyfriend. You told me you weren’t happy with him. You said you thought of me the whole time you were with him. You wanted me. You needed me now, so I held you and I comforted you and then we went back to our old ways. I was too happy.

October 31st, still 2024. It was Halloween and you were far away. We sent each other videos of the fireworks. You told me your favourite band reminded you of me. I’ve never stopped listening to that band. You said a song reminded you of us. I’ve listened to that song too many times and I still can’t remember the beat because every time I turn it on I think of you. You. You. You. You.

A random day in November, still 2024. We had drifted apart. I didn’t know why. You didn’t look at my messages as fast. Sometimes you didn’t even respond. It bugged me. Terribly bugged me, but then one day I opened Instagram and saw a new boy in your arms. He looked a bit like me. You were kissing him. His dead eyes looking into your alive ones. I replied to your story “you look so cute together!”. It was my attempt at being nice. You said thank you. I was nice.

You had told me in the past that you were jealous when I talked to other guys. When I told you about a new boy I liked you’d either go all quiet or ask questions. You wanted to know what he looked like, if he was nice, if he was good enough for me. You later revealed to be on a late night in January 2025 that you were jealous. You were always the jealous type.

Still November, still 2024. You told me about the new boyfriend. He went to therapy and had a few issues that you wanted to help him with. You were nice. You really wanted to help him. I wished you were like that with me, but I didn’t say that. I congratulated you. It was all I could do.

December 2024 - or was it January 2025? It could have been either of those months. Well, you had broken up with the boyfriend. I met you outside that familiar bar again, the rain falling onto your Ralph Lauren jacket, your hair damp, but your eyes still caught mine as I held my umbrella up. You hid underneath it with me and there we were again. Together. We weren’t together together, but we were together. I was something to pass the time, but this time was different. I asked you to stay single. I told you I loved you. I told you I couldn’t handle seeing you with somebody else because I wanted you to be happy and you weren’t good at being happy with other people. I could make you happy. I could hold you, comfort you, be there for you. I could do everything and anything. For once, you listened. You said you’d stay single. Single. You wouldn’t be with me. You’d just stay single. It was better than nothing.

The next five months we became closer than we ever had before. There was no label. We played video games, we called often, we met up outside that bar weekly. Your hand never slipped into mine, but it rested on my shoulder as I bought us drinks. We never kissed, but we hugged. We said I love you, but never anything after it. The three words alone were good enough.

April 5th 2025. You had a new boyfriend. The best one yet in my opinion. He looked the most like me out of all of them. You apologised to me, saying you didn’t want to tell me because you knew how it would make me feel. I said it was fine and that I was over you. It was a lie. I would never be over you. It was impossible to. I’d just have to watch you though, wouldn’t I? Things would go back to the way they were. We would just be platonic casual friends-

“Friends”. You’ve said it many times in the past year and a half with that sarcastic tone. “We’re such good friends.”. We were anything but friends. We both knew it. We didn’t label it though. We didn’t want to complicate things. There was no point. We were just friends. Great friends. We told each other everything. Our worries, our problems, the things that made us happy or sad. You told me about your boyfriend, I told you about my problems.

But now tomorrow, August 5th. You are going to Bristol. You asked me if I would miss you. I wouldn’t be seeing you at the bar for one night. One single night. You still asked me if I would miss you. I said “we can still text each other, it’ll be fine”. You went quiet. You wanted me to miss you. You call me Mr Musical, I call you Mr Mixed Signals. You still have a boyfriend. You love him. I don’t want you to stop because you’re happy. Don’t mess this up, love. Stop coming to the bar. Stop slipping your hand on my back. Stop buying the next drink. Stop whispering those things into my ears. Stop telling your boyfriend we’ve always been friends. We’re “friends”. I was something to pass the time, but now I believe your boyfriend is the one you’re using to pass the time because you want me now. You’ve always wanted me as much as I’ve wanted you. So take me when you can, but not now. You’re happy. Be happy. Be happy with me on the sidelines. Stop coming to the bar. Stop knocking on the door. We can’t be “friends” when you have him. I wish I was him.

— @poetry-eater-offical

i can't remember which ones i sent to grim as willow anon, i'll have to look, but here's one about what winter feels like for me! i'm honored you want to eat my poetry 🥹

shoot the moon

i keep hoping that you'll let me back in

because the dusk is beautiful, but the ocean sky has my soul drowning

light a candle and say a prayer

the silhouettes push me down again

but isn't it strange

how i hate the dark and curse the day?

stowed away by a lightless road in a building of clay

the mirror can go higher than i'll hope to be

a pill bottle in a room where i can see the sea

around me, surrounds me

around me, surrounds me

the seaweed's warm but the flowers won't grow

the flowers won't grow

so i shoot the moon and wait some more

but the flowers won't grow

the sun will save me so i wait some more

but the flowers won't grow

and the receding shore—

harness the wind, fight the stars

crashing in with their coat of arms

waving in the air, the train moves on

but the flowers won't grow and i fall

someday i'll bloom when the spring comes

i'll be alright when the spring comes

and the shadow by my room couldn't bring the gun

but my love poems?

They pour like open wounds—

deep within

my damascus

calls to be

deep within

flesh.

the clamouring call

all of me

to sunderance

all of me

to violence

death.

what I whisper

to just you

corrupting slow

to just you

changing ever

evil...

talking...

sword...