The Moon That Turns You Back, Hala Alyan
he/him • 20s
poetry consumer trying to stay alive. im an adult who says concerning things tread with caution.
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#sm.rb <- i reblog
#sm.txt <- i talk
#sm.web <- webweaving
Sweet Seals For You, Always
NASA
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Sade Olutola

Game of Thrones Daily
Today's Document

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blake kathryn
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Not today Justin
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

izzy's playlists!
Mike Driver
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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The Moon That Turns You Back, Hala Alyan
he/him • 20s
poetry consumer trying to stay alive. im an adult who says concerning things tread with caution.
TAGS
#sm.rb <- i reblog
#sm.txt <- i talk
#sm.web <- webweaving

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musings on June
1. anne sexton (“the truth the dead know”), 2. anne sexton (“suicide note poem”), 3. mary oliver (“august”), 4. l.m. montgomery (“anne of the island”), 5. morgan parker (“the black saint & the sinner lady & the dead & the truth”), 6. found poems: sylvia plath / peter k. steinberg (“percy key among the narcissi”) artwork by hugo grenville
It is too much
I KNOW I LOOK FINE, BUT DON’T LOOK. JUST LISTEN.

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Why can't I feel it?
I want hope, something to hold onto. E-mail my therapist another plea, beg for a few kind words. God I'm on my knees again. Hands up in the air. Give me something. I don't care what it is but I'm so tired of constantly balancing on the edge. Hurt me. Help me. Heal me. Make me feel anything other than what I feel now. Cause this constant chaos is tearing me apart and I can't stand feeling like this any longer. I'm scared of everything - maybe the most of myself. Of who I've become and who I've been. I look for the woman I was and can't seem to find her. Feel little girl small in an adult life. I try. I try. I try. It's like that dream where I run, fall, get up again. Keep falling. Fail to find the escape. Keep getting up again and again.
I just don’t remember enough
SORRY FOR DOING IT ALL WRONG
It doesn’t work. I still feel afraid.

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Samuel Araya

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from "Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin (1939-1947)"
Leila Chatti, from “The Moment When A Feeling Enters,” in Wildness Before Something Sublime
[text ID: I go on living. Deathtouched, changed, but my life arrives again / at yet. It’s May. I wake to it, thick and sweet as honey I’d forgotten.]