Related Recs

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FIRDANCER; O’sweet, O’Belov’D

My mind is made of bubbles Synapses pop here and there Take me in different directions Through alleyways and down steep stairs My emotions come and go like the mornings receding tide Shift like piss swift dribbling down drainage pipes and play-place slides My words are drool upon your feet My eyes are hung like frozen coals Or snot that freezes and puddles In jacket arms, on brand new clothes The mirror is a needle but these ropes are all the same I built my house on a rock in sands so that I can be displaced by strange rogue waves Sometimes screaming doesn’t help Today I can’t talk at all Self harm gets only a couple chuckles when friends come round to call My loves tears taste like cinnamon I can’t swallow without spitting up Ones once loved don’t talk to me because my medicine makes me less fun I cry every other night over folks I chose to hang around My room is set on fire every time I say something and don’t like how it sounds Good grief, bang the drum all day

@a2den

Dec 29, 2024

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I ate my heart today

My four chambered friend writ across stolen paper your red walls pulsing in my hands with a song so loud, so salty sweet, my lover to devour in the afternoon up three thousand steps, poetry on company time, secrets held close to the chest like playing cards, nine of hearts in my arsenal like a cat falling from the roof eight times into oblivion I save my ace. I’m a hunk holding a hunk, I’m Casanova and I really want to know you, I’m a heart throb on a mission. My star across the sky and on a waiting list a meteor patiently in line at the self checkout, with a fistful of ibuprofen and a need to speed right into my bed. Answer my emails from between silk sheets with a rose between my teeth. Leak your devotion all over my best shirt on Mondays my love, come apart in my hands, melt into a silky hot drink for me to guzzle. Beat like a drum for me only, my ever-marching accomplice, you complete me. Let me crawl into you and take solace there I’ll eat you from the inside out, melt your walls down with my hands and leave no residue.

@caskeyc

May 13, 2024

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doubts

Reflections of sombre thoughts, unfriendly – yet, familiar – caught; Rising with these marmalade skies: a past affair, but no surprise. Along with the wind, came a whisper, gloomy and hazy, but growing clearer; trickling outwards from within, losing warmth from this mortal's skin. As tangerine hues bleed indigo, a pattern of thoughts slowly unfold; Unfortunately it is one too accustomed, for far too long and unwelcomed. What does it take to refuse you? Clouded with these thoughts untrue. What does it take to keep you away? These darkened skies have led me astray.

@dream

Jan 31, 2024

Top Recs from @sammyawkward

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MEMORY BOXES

Does anyone else keep memory boxes? These are old shoe boxes full of keep sakes which could be as silly as receipts from a holiday, letters from old friends, gig tickets, set lists from memorable shows, photos etc I have quite a few of them now and am aware that if I keep on going like this, I’ll probably have an entire room full of boxes of these objects that possess a sentimental value. But will that be practical? So I came up with an idea, an archival undertaking of sorts called ’Debris Of a Life’, where I whittle down my boxes to just one box to rule them all and with the keepsakes that don’t make the cut being scanned and documented via a zine. I’d imagine this could end up being a few volumes worth of material but there is something that has really caught my imagination with this style of scrapbooking being presented in my most favourite of all formats; the zine. I will post more about this idea as it develops.

@sammyawkward

Apr 6, 2025

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SOCIAL MEDIA AS WENDY COPE’s THE ORANge 🍊

Don’t you think that PI FYI is a bit like Wendy Cope’s poem The Orange if it was a social media platform? Everyone sharing and recommending the things that bring them meaning and joy in life. It’s so wholesome. It’s been a minute but I have some time off this weekend so I will likely indulge some more of my thoughts and recs for the benefit of journaling.

@sammyawkward

Feb 22, 2025

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SCHEHERAZADE BY RICHARD SIKEN

Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake                                                                   and dress them in warm clothes again.        How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running until they forget that they are horses.               It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere,        it’s more like a song on a policeman’s radio,                     how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple                                                                                                   to slice into pieces. Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it’s noon, that means        we’re inconsolable.                                             Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. These, our bodies, possessed by light.                                                                          Tell me we’ll never get used to it.

@sammyawkward

Jul 1, 2024