You ever hear that old chestnut about how most people neglect the part of the story of Icarus where he also had to avoid flying too low, lest the spray of the sea soak his feathers and cause him to fall and drown? You ever think about how different the world would be if Icarus died that way instead? If the idiom was to Fly To Close To The Sea? A warning against playing it far too safe, about not stretching your wings and soaring properly? You ever think about how Icarus died because he was happy?
if you can’t get love from yourself, of course you’d beg other people for it
I picked up
one of those perfect published
poetry anthologies
flipping through its pages
fumbling for this authors sense of style
tripping headfirst into the phrase
“if writing would kill you, would you still write?”
my joints crack on impact
god there are weeks
when i can’t even dream
of pen and paper’s sordid affairs
but there are moments upon moments
where it’s the only impulse
I have left
i may never achieve
that coveted haven
on a barnes and nobles
new releases shelf
but god damn
i
will
write
until
i
die
or
i
cease
to
be
complete
This is the magic lucky word count. Reblog for creativity juice. It might even work, who knows.
which one of u was going to tell me that tea tastes different if u put it in hot water?
never let anyone tell you that trawling through mediocre victorian poetry isn't worth it. we just happened upon an absolute BANGER of a worm poem. go read it or else 🪱🪱🪱