Guiding Lights
The carved faces flicker softly in the Autumn's chill, for a missing they have that they must fulfill: Guiding the little monsters that go out to play so they many not fall into a tramp by the fey.
~ Ely C. Winters [29/10/24]
cherry valley forever

çĽćĽ / Permanent Vacation
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
wallacepolsom

romaâ

Kiana Khansmith
Not today Justin
Sweet Seals For You, Always
đŞź
RMH
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Claire Keane
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

blake kathryn
Monterey Bay Aquarium

if i look back, i am lost
Keni
ojovivo
hello vonnie
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@theholygrails
Guiding Lights
The carved faces flicker softly in the Autumn's chill, for a missing they have that they must fulfill: Guiding the little monsters that go out to play so they many not fall into a tramp by the fey.
~ Ely C. Winters [29/10/24]

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Today Was The Last Day
Day break told that it was so. So sturdy I held my head high. High hopes spread through my chest as I begged you to stay. There wasn't anything that could prepare me for this. This loomed over me like a mist within the sky. Skylights continued to creep through the window curtains. Today was the last day that I would hold you. You were nothing more than a picture in my arms. Arms weak and giving as they laid you to rest.
my heart moves twenty paces quicker than my mind. it races for things so far out of reach. my mind tries to speak it's peace, preaching that things come with time. yet, my heart aches and breaks. it's chiseling it's way out of my chest. when will it learn that things take time? when will it learn that there is no pain in wait? for it's making me weary with every day. for it's running me down with every dream it has.
kisses scattered across my face from all the angels that were once before you.
sun engraved tattoos laid upon me from all the flowers you pressed into my tired skin.
calloused feet spread across the earth for all the miles i've walked to you.
- j (x)

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Oh, wow. Hi, everyone. Itâs been a while since Iâve been on this blog. Life got hectic and I just forgot about it. But coming back and seeing Iâve gained a lot of new followers is just wow. Iâm mind blown.
I plan on writing on here again soon. Hopefully, you all like what Iâve got wrote in my notebooks.
A little life update about me though. Iâve recently turned 24. Wow, itâs hard to believe I started this blog when I was 20. Iâve graduated college with my bachelorâs in biology. Iâve gotten married and moved away from my hometown. Lots different now and I hope to be able to reflect that in my writings to you.
Sincerely yours,
Diandra
All I ever wanted was a family. The kind of family that sits around a dinner table and talks to each other. I wanted birthdays full of laughter and Christmases around a tree full of smiles. Rooms filled with love; a place where I belonged. I wanted home to be where my heart laid and felt protected. Adventures we took together. But the puzzle never seems to quite fit. My pieces are skewed and wonky; the edges never line up. I am a picture all alone in an empty room. Forgotten and unseen.
âHow could you put so much expectations in others while you put so little in yourself?â
â âAsk Yourself This When You Feel Disappointedâ, Repressed Feelings
CigarettesđĽ . . . . . .
#mywriting #typewriterpoetry #typewriterpoem #mydearestlove #poetry #poetryofinstagram #poetsandwriters #poets #spilledinkpoetry #spilledpoetry #poetsofinstagram #spilledink #writer #writersofinstagram #quotes #instaquote #quotestoliveby #writersofig #poems #poetryporn #instapoetry #instapoet #lovepoetry #lovequotes #lifequotes #tumblrpoet #tumblrpoetry #love #breakupquotes #movingon â view on Instagram https://ift.tt/mLSb3KE
âHereâs what I know: if someoneâs much better than you at something, they probably try much harder. You probably underestimate how much harder they try. Iâm not saying that talent isnât a meaningful differentiator, because it certainly is, but I think people generally underestimate how effort needs to be poured into talent in order to develop it. So much of getting good at anything is just pure labor: figuring out how to try and then offering up the hours. If youâre doing it wrong you can do it a thousand times and not produce any particularly interesting results. So you have to make sure youâre trying the right way. [âŚ] Iâm curious about the ugliness of trying, the years and years of wanting and hoping and working. I donât know why Iâm so fascinated by craft. I think itâs because it requires such a sustained tenacity. Like Michelangelo saying that he just chips away at everything that didnât look like David: a hundred thousand little motions to reveal the underlying beauty. I think a lot of people want to be but they donât want to do. They want to have written a book, but they donât want to write the book. They want to be fit, but they donât want the tedium of working out. Theyâre ashamed of rejection and theyâre ashamed of imperfection. I might want lots of people to subscribe to this Substack, but do I want to workshop a post every day? Donna Tartt once said in an interview that if the writerâs not having fun the reader isnât either. I think people make the best things when they love the process, when they willingly shoulder the inherent uncertainty and pain that comes with it. Itâs almost like a form of prayer: you offer up what you can even though the reward is uncertain. You do it out of love.â
â Ava, effort

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what does a heart know of bounds, only that they don't exist? of seasons except the psalms of hands reading memories? I never understood what happiness meant until I saw you laugh, how you held all the happiness in the world within your smile. I love how you collect my heartbeats and keep them safe. All I want is a little bit of forever, and a lot of you.
Youâre not alone, youâre just far from home.
I thought for one split second
That I had nothing more to experience
And had a lucky escape
Mama always protected me from thunderstorms
I had never known the sound of thunder,
Or felt it
Until I was 26
The night before I turned 26
You were a bad joke
You were a thunderstorm
Poet from London
Disenchantment
It originally means, âno longer believing in magic. âHumans like magic. It gives us solace and energy and hope. In many ways, the rational era of science and engineering and evidence and proof eliminated any practical belief in magical forces. We know how and why the sun sets every night. But we still desire magic.

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you always have the choice to be kind.
âWhen a flower doesnât bloom, you fix the environment in which it grows, not the flower.â
â Alexander Den Heijer