Picture My Life

For Intellect. For Emotion. For Substance.

Posts tagged Words

112 notes

There’s something about writing that doesn’t feel honest anymore. I sit in front of a screen, fingers typing away on a keyboard, writing an infinite number of words and yet… they’re all meaningless. Maybe writing isn’t as pure as I used to think it was. With all this scrutiny, the fear of sounding vulnerable just turns these words into shallow holes devoid of any significance. I remember once listening to a song just to hear the lyrics, just to feel the tight grasp of the verses suffocating my soul with longing and relatablity. How simple words could capture an emotion so vividly, leaving me a sobbing mess of sentiment. In and out of the context of language came the taste of love and lust, the very essence of passion, all inscribed like scripture. Faith had a definition engraved in bereaving hearts and lifeless souls that found refuge in romanticized jargon and home amidst the chorus of colloquy. Our words have become so far removed from deity that we’ve grown accustomed to calling them politics, so formulated and barren, they could have no evocative expression but to assume the form of dogma.

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152 notes

It was the kind of intensity that burned

Deep into memories; engraved

Permanently stitched into history

We had all the makings of forever

And yet you left me feeling breathless

Knowing I could not breath without you

Your compassion soon turned passionless

And this exhilarating flame fell dormant

To distrust and faded honesty

Branding you a scarlet letter

Filed under creative writing spoken word spilled ink poem poetry poet prose love sex passion heartache broken words quote dear diary thoughts history lust

142 notes

I often have trouble with words

Not in their sound

But in the way that they perform

They frequent misconception

Recurrent moments of misunderstanding

Toneless through text

But with the tendency to tinge volumes

Either way coming out misconstrued

Because in the recollection of future histories

It’s these words that remain remembered

Out of context

As simple run ons that ran on

The before and after’s withering past thoughts

And all we’ve memorized are these specific instances

That specify definite words we recall

In isolation their definitions faulty the memory

But I just can’t remember the rest of what you said

So I piece together separately

Each and every word you denoted

Passively passing pathos in every sense

Or maybe I put too much value in your word?

It’s all you gave me anyway

Today they mean the world

But tomorrow they are nothing but terms

Somehow losing expression

At a loss of meaning, significance

In time becoming recollections of momentary value

Exponentially subsiding into irrelevance

Words are just words after all

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91 notes

Lost in this toxic pool of thought, I’m swimming against an overwhelming ocean tide of regret that seems to have broken me down just enough to let me know I’m damaged. So here I am, bathing in this beautiful abyss made up of my own chaos and I’m feeling like I’m drowning in solitude. And it happens to be the most tranquil seclusion of lethal reflection I could ever sink in.

Filed under creative writing thoughts poem poetry lost open mic poetry slam dear diary words quote

104 notes

Junkie

I’m haunted by the subtle grace of your lips lingering like a whisper on the veer of my neck. Your words trace themselves along the crevices of my heart, ingrained like scriptures, although I’m feeling quite faithless these days. I’m lost in the empty space your distance left behind, adrift in the intrusion of your memory. My thoughts are transient nomads of amnesia, ignorant of the solace torment forsaken in your absence. My breaths take you in like homage, high off bittersweet agony and foolish devotion. My hands reminisce in the essence of your touch, your kiss saunters the brink of my desires, leaving me helpless and fiending for your love.

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84 notes

His touch was soothing. Like a tranquil form of ecstasy, I got high off my lack of inhibitions and fell deep into the abyss of mesmerized. His eyes dug bottomless to my soul like an excavation of emotion. He carved feeling into the soils of my skin, branding his name on every curve of my body like I was to be his forever. His fingers inched their way to the clasp of my bleeding heart, nails digging into the fissures of past love affairs, filling voids with his sentiment. I’d found myself suffocating in the heat of a dream like passion, a tasteful ardor only fantasies were made of.

His touch was soothing. Like a tranquil form of ecstasy, I got high off my lack of inhibitions and fell deep into the abyss of mesmerized. His eyes dug bottomless to my soul like an excavation of emotion. He carved feeling into the soils of my skin, branding his name on every curve of my body like I was to be his forever. His fingers inched their way to the clasp of my bleeding heart, nails digging into the fissures of past love affairs, filling voids with his sentiment. I’d found myself suffocating in the heat of a dream like passion, a tasteful ardor only fantasies were made of.

Filed under creative writing poem poetry poet spoken word open mic poetry slam quote love heart soul passion words

56 notes

The moon peeked beneath the shadows of broken clouds beaming through rays of sunlight. I could hear the haunting tales of my evening whispered at the tip of lucid tongues, unforgettable. He was a constant reminder, with a slightly smirked smile on a crested shape of indecency. I was overwhelmed with emotion, anxious with sentiment that sat deep in my womb of worry. The scent of mistake enthralled me with a sense of nausea and an unsettling undertone of impropriety. My heart was lament, strangled with the unseemliness of mourning, tormented by the numbing pain of regret. It was a bittersweet kind of agony.

Filed under creative writing words poetry poem spoken word open mic poetry slam poet love moon pain heart lust sex sick death religion prayer