L. V., I Found This Poem When You Let Me Walk Around Your Mind

Girl in chair (detail)
Pablo Picasso, 1952

People say you're out of your mind but that's not true.

- L. V.

On the contrary, you spend way too much time in your head.

- L. V.

L. V., i found this poem when you let me walk around your mind

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More Posts from Literaryvein and Others

literaryvein

7 months ago

My mouth says: wouldn’t it be easier if our hearts were like flowers?

On the Balcony (Detail)
Childe Hassam, 1888

Someone asks patiently: what do you mean?

Wouldn’t it be easier if, on certain days, we could just pluck out our heart

like a flower, plant it temporarily in a pot, so we can get on with our day?

Then once we get home, we can plant it right back in its place.

Because today’s one of those days that doesn’t require a heart.

L. V., i found this poem in the midst of an anxiety attack

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art writeblr writers on tumblr nature☁️ painting moon poetry anxiety woman creative writing literature poets on tumblr my writing flower original writing spilled ink spilled thoughts impressionism word vomit poets corner childe hassam literaryvein

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literaryvein

8 months ago

The only way to love a hurricane is from a distance.
One could say the same about tornadoes and tsunamis.
An avalanche. Wildfires. Volcanoes. You.
- L. V.

L. V., i found this poem stuck to the bottom of a stranger's shoe

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art writeblr writers on tumblr nature☁️ poetry creative writing literature poets on tumblr my writing original writing spilled ink spilled thoughts poets corner literaryvein leonid afremov

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literaryvein

3 years ago

L. V., i found this poem where the ocean ends

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literaryvein

11 months ago

Detail of "Soaring"
by Andrew Wyeth, 1942

L. V., I Found This Poem Washed Up On Shore

L. V., i found this poem washed up on shore

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art writeblr writers on tumblr poetry creative writing literature poets on tumblr my writing original writing spilled ink spilled thoughts andrew wyeth literaryvein poet corner and yet we say goodbye and yet we must let go i wrote this after seeing a bird in the sky swooping down and the motion looked like the wave of a hand & it reminded me of watching someone give the most disheartened wave of a hand to say goodbye & you could tell he didn't want to say goodbye but he had to he had to let go

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literaryvein

8 months ago

The day I realised I’m going to be me for a lifetime,
I met Grief.

She was sitting on the curb
just around the corner; face resting on her hands,
elbows on her knees.

When you died, I understood why
people need to grieve.

You see, it’s so close to a year
since the funeral
and the memory of every vein
that runs across the back of your hand
is still crystal clear to me.

Without grief, how could loving someone be possible?

When I die, I don’t want anyone to find the body.
Let’s keep the world guessing.
Is she still alive? Was she ever alive?
Did she drown, fall off a cliff? Did she bleed out, starve?
Did something big and raging devour her whole?
Did she vanish into thin air?
Maybe this is why he called her a mystery.
Was it a murder? An abduction?
Look for a ransom note. Perhaps a suicide note?

The day you realised you are going to be yourself for a lifetime,
I hope you walked around that corner with your head held high;
your shadow, following closely behind.

- L. V.

L. V., i found this poem on the back of your hand

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literaryvein

11 months ago

I can’t do poetry, my words won’t write, if you could help me, that would be quite alright :)

As you can see, my poetry is shit.

"Poetry at its best can do you a lot of harm." —Sylvia Plath

"Poetry, I feel, is a tyrannical discipline. You’ve got to go so far so fast in such a small space; you’ve got to burn away all the peripherals." —Sylvia Plath

Are you certain you still want to write poetry, dear stranger?

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literaryvein

9 months ago

hi there,

love your work. among many other great artists on this space, i feel you have a unique creativity i haven't seen very frequently; it's clear that although you choose not to disclose everything, i feel you're someone who knows how to feel, how to be.

i hope life has been, and will remain, kind to you.

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it hasn't & it won't ever be but i'm okay with that sometimes i hope the world returns all the kindness it has for you i wanted to keep this message in my inbox forever - just for myself - like it was meant to be a secret - like it wasn't meant for the world when i first read this - waves of sadness washed over me because i knew these words weren't meant for me because of how wrong your kind soul had gotten me because someone who knows how to feel wouldn't be overflowing like this because someone who knows how to be wouldn't choose to be me the waves have since subsided & i realised if i kept this to myself i wouldn;t be able to thank you i hope life is kinder to you dear anon

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literaryvein

3 years ago

L. V., i found this poem running down the butter knife like blueberry jam

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literaryvein

11 months ago

Ant Face (detail)
Salvador Dali
1936 - 1937

I’ll admit, it's nice to be alive sometimes.

- L. V.

I just wish sometimes isn't always so far away.

- L. V.

L. V., i found this poem scribbled on the underside of a mountain

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literaryvein

9 months ago

grief makes you want to die every single day. but you don’t.

Tulips in a Milk Carton (detail)
Paul Wonner, 1989

you go on with what’s left of your life. you make the bed every morning.

you take out the trash. you buy your weekly groceries.

and as you inspect which milk carton looks the least wonky,

you realise this is how to kill yourself without breaking your mother’s heart—

you go on with what’s left of your life.

L. V., i found this poem grieving in aisle 3

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art writeblr writers on tumblr poetry creative writing literature poets on tumblr my writing original writing spilled ink spilled thoughts still life tulips poets corner literaryvein paul wonner contemporary realism

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