Moriah Pearson

“The work of the eyes is done. Go now and do the heart-work on the images imprisoned within you.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke

135 notes

I mourn the tragedy
of kisses that never happened,
the spark that was snuffed out,
months long after the moment
of faces so close they were warm
with each other’s breath & I mourn
even the kisses that did, my hair
in his fist, his hand yanking it
& me backwards & around to meet
his lips dry as Ohio grass during
a mid-July drought, or how I spun
to her scent & clumsily pressed
my mouth against her mouth
when I wanted a first kiss to be
so much more & instead it was
something remiss. I have done
many things like that kiss
& loved you recklessly like
dancing tongue tangos
with four different
boys or girls in one night
to forget the last person
who didn’t have the courage
to live a little. I keep trying
to find someone who can
(because you said you can’t,
said, ‘I can’t do it right, but there
will be someone who can.’ & when
you said that you meant love me,
you couldn’t love me, but were sure
others could do it without a failure rate
of seventy percent), but my hands
are still tied to your imaginary
bedpost & they are empty
& I am naked & it is cold
here where you left me
without even the care to remember
to cover my bruised body with a blanket
or to tell anyone else where to find me
or how they could undo the bonds.
Moriah Pearson, linked

Filed under spilled ink poetry poem prose quotes creative writing mooneyedandglowing moriah pearson

476 notes

My heart is an infected tooth
& I can’t afford the dentist,
so I try to take pliers to it
& by pliers I mean that
I fuck people I probably
shouldn’t & I don’t even
feel that bad after it.
I mean, not for them.
I still feel bad that I know
it hurts you when I do this,
but I also feel like you deserve
a little hurt, because
who doesn’t deserve to know
that they’re still in love?
But love changes nothing,
the moon knows that when
so many people write poems
for her but she still can’t help
leaving before anyone wakes up.
What I’m trying to say is that
there’s a picture of the moon
as the background on my phone
& there’s a voice recording of you saying,
“Good morning. I’m awake. I’m awake.”
that I sometimes use as my alarm,
because I like to think that one day
you’ll wake up & it helps me with that,
but I should know better by now &
I promise that I’m trying to learn.
You just left a hole inside of me
when you decided on easy
& I’m not sure if I should grow
some violets there or if I should
just leave it empty & wide open
for someone new to try & crawl into.
Moriah Pearson (mooneyedandglowing)

Filed under spilled ink poetry poem quotes prose poets on tumblr mooneyedandglowing moriah pearson

2,697 notes

It is okay to want your own happiness. It’s okay to care about yourself the most. You are not obligated to sit there and smile and swallow every bit of shit everyone heaps on you. You are more than furniture, you’re more than window dressing, you’re not their shiny toy. You’re human, and you have the right to say “That was shitty of you”. You have a right to protest your own mistreatment and set boundaries for respectful interactions. The rest of the world doesn’t realize you have this right, and they will act offended and appalled when you exercise it, but it is yours.
Unknown (via quotethat)

(via doihatemyself)

202 notes

Pain does not take away from life. Pain adds a richness, an aching complexity that makes the beautiful moments even more beautiful. Pain is necessary, it isn’t something to always fear or run from & it is exhausting to do so, because you can’t avoid it. It is the essence of our existence, it is espresso being added to chocolate. On it’s own it can be bitter, it can burn your throat & make your stomach hurt, but it makes chocolate better, it makes it richer, it makes it bolder, just like pain does with life. So, no, I will not say no to even the most painful of experiences because through them I am able to find profound meaning in heartbreak, able to find joy & freedom whilst walking dirty streets at night, able to see the world in a sunset & feel my heart pulsing with life & so I will say yes, yes because I was put here with the ability to handle it, to taste all of the flavors. I was put here to feel, so go ahead, you make it hurt, you make it beautiful, because that, that is what I live for.
Moriah Pearson, bittersweet (via mooneyedandglowing)

Filed under prose creative writing spilled ink pain quotes mooneyedandglowing moriah pearson

41 notes

evenhigherwalls asked: I think putting a strict definition of poetry or calling it fake or real is the worst way to appreciate poetry.

36 notes

draniugwehttam asked: I feel like you're trying to be respectful, so since I don't necessarily have to be respectful to your followers I'll say this- that anon is, straight up, dumb as a fucking brick. He doesn't like your poetry, cool, but that doesn't make it non-existent. It's not "fake" poetry. Also, I feel like if someone's gonna bash your poetry they should at least have the balls to not go anonymous. Like "hey, I hate your poems, but I'm too scared of people disliking my ignorance to say it publicly."

28 notes

Anonymous asked: To me, poetry is words. There's no such thing as "real poetry." Poetry is thoughts and feelings summed up into lines. Sometimes they rhyme sometimes they don't and it doesn't really matter as long as someone can relate to it. I love your writing, personally. A lot of people do.

Thank you, darling! I appreciate you & every other person who reads my work & is able to get something from it. I agree with you on your sentiment of there being no such thing as “real poetry”. I think putting poetry into categories like that is really stifling & prohibitive to people’s creative process. Poetry, like all works of art, is a constantly evolving entity & the only “right way” for someone to do it is their way. 

Filed under writing poetry opinions anons thank youu