Poetry Drafts

oil on finely chopped lumber

Tomorrow I will paint

Broad strokes on an empty canvas

My truths will be revealed

stories shared between friends

and us

hunger

There is no silence between my breaths / the mice / the mice are everywhere / breathe …. breathe / nibble,,, nibble,,, bleed / and the next mission …. compromised / the silence / your breast^H^Hth / I am scared / and hungry

Moments

There were moments, and then there was paprika. In abundance both admirable, in pinches; bland. There were moments, and then there was nothing. An insufficiency of stimuli, in a moment that wasn’t.

staff:

Congratulations! You’re a Webby nominee.

Tumblr is in the running to win a Webby (@webbys) for best community on the internet—and it’s all thanks to you. This is our eighth Community nomination. With your help, it can be our sixth win.

You’ve created some beautiful little communities here on Tumblr. You’re welcoming, you’re passionate, and if we must be honest, just the right amount of weird.

Where else on the internet are you going to find SKAM fans who translated each and every episode into English for those who don’t snakker norsk? What other platform is home to witchblr—the people who see the magic in everything, from emoji spells to crystal instructional guides. You are the community who got together for the first-ever virtual march—an online march for each and every person who was not able to physically attend a March For Our Lives rally. You are the people that host your own Tumblr prom every single year so no one feels left out. That’s because no one is left out here on Tumblr. Everyone is welcome.

You’re what makes Tumblr feel like home.

So go on and vote before the polls close this Thursday, April 19. We’re rooting for you.

We would be building even better communities if you (Tumblr) could be bothered to fix the issues we have reported in your apps!

u

Sometimes I write for you, other times I write about you, but most of the time I write because of you

Under her dark and clouded skies

the grass remain green

Under her dark and frowned brow

she still manage a smile

Under her dark and unwieldy imprint

she tells us how she really feels

A face not always portraying truth

her reality; multilayered

It is not jealousy I feel inside

it is something more akin to envy

to see you grow up afar

to study and learn and then

to leap into the unknown

to a life awaiting

I envy you and your future ahead

as I contemplate that all I had

is already behind me

I am afraid

to read my runes of old

thoughts in another language

another lifetime’s truths told

I am afraid

to read the words of others

my world no longer pure; poisoned

to become a copycat; faking

I am afraid

I am

of that

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