quando ele parte
parte também o coração,
agora mais pequeno
que a soma das partes
They say...Mom says our hearts started to beat
at the same time,
That we uttered our first words
And our first steps were coordinated
like a waltz.
Dad says I cried when you were
That you asked for water when I was
And our mouths opened at the same time
for a yawn.
The doctor says you had a fever when
I was ill,
That my stomach ached when
you had appendicitis,
And our allergies always happened
at the same time,
The teacher says I knew the answers
to your homework,
That your drawing was an illustration
of what I wrote,
And we copied in tests with just
(Mom says go up there and talk)
And I say
We never needed to copy in the tests,
That our stories were always the same,
And we did our homework together.
Our allergies were one and the same,
That we had appendicitis on the same week,
And we always got sick on the same day.
We felt sleepy at the same time,
That we were thirsty and of course
We weren’t walking we were dancing,
A beautiful dayIt’s a beautiful day
and I don’t know why.
Of course the sky is blue,
and the sun’s in the sky.
But the sky being blue
Sometimes makes me so…
And I can’t even say
I’m thinking of you.
But it’s such a beautiful day!
And I think now I know why!
It’s not because the sky is blue
Or there’s candy cotton clouds in the sky…
It’s such a beautiful day…
Because I’m happy.
In my own
Obvious SecretsWhen you look at her
You know what she did
It’s written all over her face
Clear on those rosy cheeks.
The hands behind her back
match her big innocent eyes
and the sweet treacherous grin.
A cherub who knows no sin.
And once you ask what she did
She’ll bat her eyes
Giggle, smile and speak:
“I’d never steal a cookie!”
Unaware of the chocolate
smeared all over her cheek.
Things That Fit in the Palm of My HandIn the palms of my hands there is everything.
Roads from one side to the other,
Mountains, hills and red spots.
They carry my life.
They carry my love.
And if I could…
If I wanted in my hands I would carry
A whole country, a whole continent.
Maybe the world or even the Universe.
But, my love, there is nothing I wish more
than to carry your hand in mine.
100TC - 52. ChristmasMerry Christmas I am told
And I am waiting to be cold.
But it’s hot everyday,
Even when it rains!
And if Christmas is so close,
How come it’s spring?
Shouldn’t it be fall?
And are you telling me Santa will bring
All the gifts here?
He must be wearing shorts
And drinking cold beer.
When I die I'll be MusicWith so much beauty in the world
Couldn’t I have been born
As anything but this flawed being
That I am?
In a world of waterfall and trees
Wolves, foxes, squirrels and fawns,
With buzzing wasps and bees,
Flying doves and silent swans
Why ain’t I one of these?
If I float in the universe alongside galaxies,
Comets and stars,
Not too far from black holes
And even closer to Mars,
Why ain’t I from one of those?
When I’m surrounded by the arias,
The poetry and the paintings,
By the sculptures and the buildings,
The songs and the plays,
Why ain’t I one of these makings?
When I die I’ll be music.
What about you?
100TC - 94. Brokenhearted (or Chris' Lament)The problem is not that I’m alone,
That there’s no one to welcome me home
Or that the bed is empty in the morning
in the evening and dawn.
The issue is not the meals for one,
The evenings in on my own,
That there aren’t calls from anyone
and no reason to have a phone.
The question is not that I’m lonely
in this one bedroom apartment.
That there’s nothing to make it homey,
except for what I can’t have anymore.
The question is you once were here
and you were my one and only.
The question is you showed me more
and had me longing for what I hadn’t before.
The issue is my heart longs for you
and my body misses your touch.
The issue is I’d love to hate you
but I can no longer hold a grudge.
The problem is I fell in love
and made a terrible mistake.
The problem is I am not above
of feeling this heartache.
100TC - 19. HomeI once thought I could only be
happy on the other side of the horizon.
Where the grass was greener
and the seas were so much bluer.
Wherever I was…
I wanted to be somewhere else.
Whoever I was with…
they were never the right one.
Whenever I saw the snow,
had snowball fights and
I wished for the white sand
and to take a swim
on tropical beaches.
Happiness was harder
and harder each day.
The horizon was further
and further away.
(It’s just an
and you can never
I realized I can be happy anywhere.
If I call it home.
The grass sometimes is tall
and the sea if far away.
But there’s no place like home
and no one quite like myself.
I miss the snow.
The water here is freezing.
But happiness is so easy.
And the horizon is just a line.
100TC - 50. 5 a.m.Most days
5 a.m. is when I’m asleep
And you’re awake.
Later I’m awake
And you’re asleep.
5 a.m. is “your 10 p.m.”.
When I wake up and it’s night.
It’s when there’s no work
And I’m awake till the morning light.
5 a.m. is when we meet.
On the street, by your door.
We forget all those screens
And it’s like never before.
What Certain People of Tumblr Don't UnderstandThere is literally nothing wrong with being cis,
your very existence does not make you transphobic.
You are not an oppressor by default,
do not blame yourself for someone else’s transphobia,
because it’s not your fault.
Racism isn’t restricted to just whites.
Anyone can be a racist,
you need only express a prejudice.
Sexism is practically the same,
no matter the gender,
it goes both ways.
Mental illness is not some fad,
it’s not something to be tossed around so freely,
like some badge.
It’s not something you can self-diagnose you have,
therefore using it as an excuse to act like an ass.
There is a stigma created when you act out, you see.
And the world associates mental illness
with your disgusting tendencies.
It is horrific and cruel to use mental illness as an excuse,
especially when the illness you claim to have is not
Feminism is not for every boy, man, woman or girl.
It is not a cure that will heal inequality in our world.
LifeWhat is life?
Life is something, that we must to respect, something that we hae only one time, something that we must feel inside of us
Our life can be hard or cruel sometimes, but you must learn to live with it, do the best out of it and maybe you can change something in your heart and other once hearts.
Live your life in this way like you feel, be free, be yourself
We dont know the meaning of life.. but we still know what we want: We want to live and that matters.
Even when you go through the biggest adventure, and dont find yourself anymore, there will be people in your life who still helping you out of your misery, no matter what happened
You can be heartless, you can be sad, you even can hate everything, but remember, even when you are one of those persons, you still have something to live for and you always have love inside of your heart. Make yourself proud and dont lose hope or the way you go, you will always be part of something big and fantastic
Never lose your hope and i pro
I'm Sorry For Being a RapistI'm sorry for being a rapist,
though I never even touched you.
I'm sorry for assaulting you,
though all I did was gently brush you.
We were in a crowded subway,
what more could you expect?
Someone bumped up against me,
and my raised hand went to your chest.
I'm sorry for being abusive,
even though I'm just three.
I'm sorry for crying in front of you,
because I’m supposed to be strong.
I'm sorry for being gay,
because society doesn't like it that way.
I'm sorry for being your boss,
even though I worked extremely hard.
As opposed to you, I came from nothing,
and had to earn my family's butter and bread.
We escaped a communist country,
from a government who wanted us dead.
But you wouldn't know that,
because to you we're all the same.
I'm sorry for calling you a bitch,
after you carelessly called me a bastard.
Or calling you a slut,
when you cheated on my friend, and his life ended in self inflicted disaster.
I'm sorry for earning more than you,
but you know you can go to court.
Being Cis Isn't EasyBeing Cis is Easy
So I suppose that when I was kicked out last night,
for being gay,
that my pain meant nothing,
because let’s face it, i'm cis, anyway.
I think that the marks on my wrist are just ketchup stains,
because i'm cis, so I can't bleed,
Did you know, I'm invincible to pain?
Racism isn't a thing if you're a cisgendered male,
be you black, white or whatever,
you can't experience racism, so why even tell?
Misandry nor misogyny exist of your cis,
so girls and boys, let's stop this confusion,
let's just do away with this.
Depression, huh! Do you mean a cry for attention?
Because if you're cis and experiencing this,
don't bother mentioning it.
And you can't be bullied, you cis scum!
So stop telling us that you are,
because we know you're just making it up.
A broken family, bitch please!
Everyone knows that
cisgendered brats have everything.
Call me stingy, but I ask one thing,
I beg of you to keep the
label “cis” away from me.
Because you love to put us al
Autism Is Not A DiseaseSome say it's a virus,
That spreads like the plague,
Until there's nothing left,
But for those with autism,
When we're normal human beings,
Yes we are different,
But isn't everyone else,
Like for those who are bright,
While other's are dumb?
Sure our brains are wired,
All over the place,
Making it harder,
For us to think.
But it doesn't matter,
When no one's the same.
And Believe me,
This world would be a bore,
If we knew our every move,
Knowing what everyone would do.
So let's hear it:
Am I a disease,
Or a living human being?
Control"Please stop, you're scaring me"
They cried with tears shed.
I'm well acquainted with the voices
That live in my head.
They make me so angry.
I'm as cold as ice.
They dare me to do things.
They're my greatest vice.
But they aren't my issue.
The issue here is me.
The demons don't do this.
The demons aren't free.
"Please don't do this"
With voices so old.
This is my body.
I'm the one in control.
numb.walk the edge of disaster
like you are one yourself;
don’t pretend –
the hurricane offering
rain to the earth and when
the cruel wind rips
it away, laugh at the
burn it leaves behind
just to feel
HetaliaxDepressed!Reader:Self-Inflicted AchromaticHetalia x Scary! Depressed! Reader: Self-Inflicted Achromatic
I want to be a person just like you, don't you see?
I want to be a person who is still being "me"
A tired sigh escaped your lips. You were just so damn tired. The other countries said that you, (f/n) or (c/n), was scarier than Russia himself. But of course, you have lived 2500 years with wars and bloodshed always trailing after you. You just really want to be happy. But all those wars and blood imprinted on your mind, you really just released off a dark (a/c) aura and a stoic atmosphere.
It really would be nice but I'm paying a price
'Cause I'd really, not be me and that would not suffice
You asked yourself, "I know my face doesn't show my pain. But isn't it obvious in my eyes? I'm lonely and hurt" You rubbed your numb (s/c) wrist, yesterday's cuts still had a colorless ache to it. You picked your silver knife, twirling it around watching the others argue. The said knife is the one you also use to cut yourself.
A dream which
anything.i talk about you
to every person i meet
they don't know you
and i can tell them anything.
i can be honest about the severity of the fire
in your eyes
or i could lie and say you love me
i could say you bought me roses
and wrote poems about me
i could say you hold me
while i cry
and send me texts every morning
asking how i slept
even though you know i didn't sleep at all
because we were talking on the phone
about the universe and van gogh
at 2 am.
or i could even say that i don't love you.
i could say you love me like crazy,
but i don't love you back,
that you're the one existing with each separate pulse
of a broken heart
and that i get a good night's sleep
not worrying at all.
but i don't.
instead i show them the blood
on my shirt
from where my skin is drenched
from erratic and choppy heartbeats
that stutter and cut
when you look at me
or when i hear your voice
talking somewhere away.
i could lie to these people
because they don't know you
and they don't know me,