Light Academia - Blog Posts

You just walked away like that.

And took all of my words with you.

I am left with an empty pen,

and an even emptier heart.

Where do I go from here?

Back to the misery that I came from,

or the uncertain darkness that lay ahead.

Maybe I'll rest here for a while.

Under the fading glow of the moon,

with the silence of the sky to keep me company.

It's not that I can't move on.

I just want to linger here a little more,

to trace my fingers through the blurring outlines of our fates.

Let the dying sun go in peace.

And soon enough I'll be gone from your name too.

Till then say yes to the whsipers I've sent with the wind.

Tell me that it was a good story.

And that you loved me once.

I am sorry I couldn't create a safe place for you.

I am sorry I couldn't be brave enough to let you be you.

I am sorry for all the times I made you say you hate pink (we love it now).

I am sorry for trying too hard sometimes and not trying at all other times.

I am sorry that you had to face all those years alone, without someone to hold you close.

I am sorry for letting you go when I should've held onto you tighter.

I am sorry for thinking that shutting you out will make me feel like I belong somewhere, anywhere.

I am sorry for abandoning you when all you ever had was me.

But now, little one, we are here. You and I, both of us are safe in this space that I have started to call 'heart'.

Cry all you want, I'll hold you. Be fierce, be gentle, be everything that you've wanted to be. I am here and you can be you.

Sweet young child, you're safe in my hands.

And we'll be okay. I love you, and that's all that matters.

To my younger self,

I'm sorry that I couldn't save you. I'm sorry that I didn't stop you from harms. I'm sorry that now you're too broken to be put together

It was never your fault. It was never your fault. It was never your fault. Not your fault. Not your fault. Not your fault. Not your fault

There will always be reasons to return.

In the form of old forgotten promises.

Or slow songs filled with a sort of comforting sadness.

Patter of the raindrops will call you back.

Every twinkle of the stars will remind you of home.

Of the heart that awaits yours after all this time.

It's never too late they say.

But it still is too early, says time.

The passing days are a blur of white and gold.

But in the tiredness of the lonely night,

your smile still keeps me warm.

Sometimes I wonder if I have wandered too far,

but then I close my eyes and there you are.

Right beneath my skin and always on my mind.

Space and time may keep us apart,

but still the yearning hearts find ways to be alive.

There's a kind of hope that stems from helplessness.

And everytime I crave your voice, I hope I can hear them in the soft crackle of the summer's fires.

The colors of it seems too much like the shade of your eyes.

It soothes me in this lone journey of mine,

What a pity that I can't hold it in my palm.

But then again fire and water never did get along.

Except maybe for us.

Is that why the stars were aligned like this?

So that I may cross unknown oceans and you may burn in my absence.

But they never anticipated that love might find a way.

Because we did and we always will.

It's getting cold and dark and the sky is full of stars that remind me of your eyes.

Maybe when morning comes I can take my first step back home.

Towards your waiting arms.

And towards our forever.

The ghost of your skin is still warm on my palms. Your scent lingering in the spaces between my fingers. My eyes are still on the last place that held your shadow. You've disappeared through the door that's still open. I can't bring myself to shut it, for fear that I might lose you forever then.

The moment stretches on and I can't feel anything except for this dull thumping of my heart.

It was a mistake to hold you so close and kiss you with love. And it was an even bigger mistake to hope that you kiss back. Mistakes that cut off our red strings of fate. And now, like autumn leaves in the cool breeze, our souls are drifting apart, blown away from the other to lands far from this place.

Calling this heartbreak would be cruel. This feels like death.

As I feel the colours in me drain away along with the warmth inside, I know you've killed me with your absence. Or perhaps your presence all along...

I know you will never return.

You won't ever come back.

I won't see you ever again.

And I won't see this me ever again too.

The sky is still sleeping outside. And soon the love in me will go to sleep as well.

They say empty vessels make the most sound. But the screams of my soul only come out as whispers against the silence of this dawn.

I've lost you and I've lost myself.

As the sky turns to a mixture of greyish pink, I stand at the same spot you left me. Wondering why everyone says love is beautiful, when it has been a painful poison all along.

Stop running and turn around.

I am still here, standing in the dark.

With outstretched hands waiting to hold you.

Come to me and please stay this time.

We found each other after a million sad stories.

Each one more heartbreaking than the last.

So come back and I promise I'll hold you.

Sleepless nights have been my friends for a while now.

But with you by my side, the world comes alive.

My heart is stronger this time.

Let me take away your pain and mourn for your loss.

Close your eyes and walk back to me.

For so long your were lost among the starless skies.

But now even the darkness is tired of keeping us apart.

I've littered stars to guide you back home.

Follow the fading lights and by dawn you'll be safe in my arms.

It's time for our forever, my love.

There was love between us.

Until one day there wasn't.

We just woke up and decided that was it.

And just like that, our paths diverged.

Will they ever cross again?

I don't know.

But everywhere I go, I still get reminded of you.

You might have left,

but not before leaving my soul drenched in your being.

Wherever I go, I can only think of you being there too.

We thought it'd be nice to be free again.

But now the freedom seems to have turned to loneliness.

And with every sunrise I miss you a little more.

You've been absent for a while now,

but I've been loving you nonetheless.

And judging by the way my eyes search for your face in every crowd,

I think I am going to love you always.

Whether you like it or not.

Whether I like it not.

And just like that I am yearning for you again.

And that's when I realised, there's still love between us.

From me to you.

And I'll wait for it to come back.

From you to me.

I miss you.

When will you come home?

A million touches later you're finally here to stay.

Probably with a million more you'll finally fall for me too.

But sadly, we don't have so much time.

Maybe this is our last sunset together.

And when the light of the next moon falls on your pretty face,

I'll close my eyes one last time.

And just like that fade away with nothing but your name on my lips.

Words fall from my fingertips,

in hopes that they can catch the dreams in my heart.

Because the expanse that my life is,

will not be enough to keep them alive.

So I let the words flow,

and when I can't go on anymore,

I rest my hand and dream again.

And hope to see you once more there,

where everything is as I always imagined.

With a tired sigh, you tell me that life has become pointless now and that you've forgotten how it felt to be alive. You tell me you don't know where to find the next chapter of this monotonous life of yours.

I hope you find it in between your favourite book, with pages folded that remind you of how beautiful life sometimes can be.

I hope you find it the way the flowers in your homemade pots bloom late in the afternoon, spreading a faint fragrance that people will soon come to associate you with.

I hope you find it in the sweetness of the tea that you have in the mornings, just before you walk out to meet your best friend.

I hope you find it in the warmth of your blankets at night, when the moon filters in through the open window and falls on the suncatcher beside your table.

I hope you find it in the familiar tunes of your childhood songs that always adds a little bit of yellow to your eyes.

I hope you find it in the swift winds of the early winter mornings, where the steam from your cup fogs up your glasess as you sit across and smile at the little boy who claims he is Peter Pan.

I hope you find your next chapter in all the tiny nooks and corners of the world that hides the most beautiful moments that this life can come up with.

You know where to look. But you've been looking with your heart closed.

Somedays I crave the touch of another in my soul. I need someone to understand all the chaos inside me but at the same time be intrigued by everything as well. I want to lay down my soul bare, like the musical notes on a white sheet of paper. And I hope someone who appreciates the melody comes along and picks me up. And when they start to hum the tune I have kept hidden in my depths for so long, I'll finally feel like I belong somewhere. Even if that somewhere is just the tip of their tongue or the curve of their lips.

It's the light brown color of my tired sighs and the warm pink of my sleepy snores. The monotonous rambling of my mind brings to life the precious olive green in my soul. The songs I know by heart, that are always at the tip of my lips, shines in a soft earthy brown glow. If there was a colour to describe the way my heart swells everytime I watch the sun go down in the far horizon, it would be a mild beige tinted with a pretty rosy flavour. And when I look at myself in the mirror, when I see the person I have become, I can see the turquoise of my soul smiling softly over my head. I don't know what color my aura is but all that matters is how beautifully I glow when I smile at myself.

Brown for the earth's child that I am, that I always was.

Pink for the pretty parts in me that I've started to fall in love with.

Green for my soul that has slowly started healing from within.

Beige for the ways I am always there for me.

Turquoise for how much alive I am and how beautiful it is to create and grow like I do now.

What is your color palette at this point in your life?

Grab your dreams in your hands and sprinkle them while you take a walk. Let the others after your time follow the trail and find their own treasure. Because even if you didn't make it, at least they will. And that means you did make it. Planting hope in the depth of a soul is the closest that we humans can come to being gods.

even when the flame expires and the roses wilt, I will still love you: for death is only the beginning of new life

cashmere and forgotten love letters

pistachio academia

request of @jolivers-wonder 💚

blueberry academia

requested by @jolivers-wonder 💙🫐

strawberry academia

as per request of @jolivers-wonder ❤️🍓

vanilla academia

open air bookstores and annotated pages

echoes from the halls of knowledge

frantic writing and study halls

Poems for a summer day:

Emily Dickinson

(my favourite poet)

A something In a summer's day

Summer shower

Further In summer than the birds

As sleigh bells seem In summer

It can't be "Summer"!

Summer for thee, grant I maybe

It will be Summer - eventually

I taste a liquor never brewed (the best poem ever)

The one who could repeat the summer day

What shall I do when the summer troubles

Ourselves were wed one summer - dear

So much summer

I know a place were summer strives

Would you like summer? Taste of ours.

There came a day at summer's full

Her final summer was it

Twice had summer her fair verdure

The trees like tassel - hit and swung by

John Keats

The Human Seasons

On the grasshopper and cricket

Shakespeare

Shall I compare thee to a Summer's Day

Over hill, over dale - from A Midsummer Night’s Dream

William Wordsworth

Book Fourth [Summer Vacation]

Daffodils (not about summer, but gives me summer vibes)

The Solitary Reaper (again, not about summer, but gives me summer vibes)

Langston Hughes

Summer Night (not about summer, but brilliant poem)

Pablo Neruda

100 Love Sonnets

Poem XVI

Poem LI

Poem XCII

Charles Baudelaire

L’invitation au voyage

Amalgamation of Poems

(these poems are grouped in amalgamation not because they are in anyway less relevant than the others above, the poems below have not been read by me or had been read long ago.)

Moonlight, Summer Moonlight by Emily Jane Brontë

June by John Updike

Love Song, 31st July by Richard Osmond

Apples by Laurie Lee

Warm Summer Sun by Mark Twain

A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky by Lewis Carroll

Fireflies in the Garden by Robert Frost

Midsummer, Tobago by Derek Walcott

A Green Thought by Katharine Towers

Adlestrop by Edward Thomas

When we got to the beach by Hollie McNish

Summer Stars by Carl Sandburg

Before Summer Rain by Rainer Maria Rilke

Morningside Heights, July by William Matthews

Miracles by Walt Whitman

Bed in Summer by Robert Louis Stevenson

Summer night, riverside by Sara Teasdale

The Idea of Order at Key West by Wallace Stevens

In Summer by Paul Laurence Dunbar

For once, then, something by Robert Frost

Summer Holiday by Robinson Jeffers

A boy and his dad by Edgar Guest

Long Island Sound by Emma Lazarus

Bath by Amy Lowell

Summer Morn in New Hampshire by Claude McKay

In the Mountains on a Summer day by Li Bai (personal favourite)

Backyard by Carl Sandburg

Idyll by Siegfried Sassoon

If you get there Before I do by Dick Allen

Fishing on the Susquehanna in July by Billy Collins

Indian Summer by Dorothy Parker

Fragment 31 (Jealousy) by Sappho (brilliant poem)

Constantinople by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu

Green by Paul Verlaine

From the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyám, quatrain IX

To Natasha by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin

[These poems have an aspect of summer and definitely, most of them have addressed deeper issues through the appearance of a beautiful imagery of summer. This has been created from my own reading experience, google websites and recommendations from friends and professors. If you want me to add anything more, leave an ask or comment. Enjoy these beautiful poems and no hate please.]

I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk / down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs / to let you by. Or how strangers still say “bless you” / when someone sneezes, a leftover / from the Bubonic plague. “Don’t die,” we are saying. / And sometimes, when you spill lemons / from your grocery bag, someone else will help you/ pick them up. Mostly, we don’t want to harm each other. / We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot, / and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile / at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress / to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder, / and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass. / We have so little of each other, now. So far / from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange. / What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these / fleeting temples we make together when we say, “Here, / have my seat,” “Go ahead — you first,” “I like your hat.”

— Small Kindnesses, Danusha Laméris

If you have trouble remembering all the beef two historical figures had for your exam, just start shipping them.

I am not joking.

They hated each other before their coalition? Enemies to lovers. One of them was assassinated? Right person wrong time. They have portraits/photos together? They must’ve fought the urge to hold hands.

You’ll be surprised by how easy their lore becomes to remember

wonder

I love the smiths but how could a man ever know how joan of arc felt

if I had a nickel for every time politicians were thrown out the window in Prague I'd have three nickels. which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened three times???

writing monstrosities in my diary but it's okay because it's in latin and I'm using a glitter gel pen

"listening to music in your target language is the best way to learn it" they said "it'll be fun" they said but now i'm listening to smells like teen spirit in classical latin with weird instrumentals in the background.

my love language is poetry and I think I'm willing to finally accept that I'll always be the poet and never the poem as long as my muse lets me write about them forevermore