❤︎ .:; welcome to sappysapphic ;:. ❤︎

⚢ this is a sapphic poetry blog

⚢ i specifically only write sapphic characters

⚢ each poem is carefully written with intent to keep the tone of this blog “soft”

⚢ this is the place to find new sapphic poems! written me (faerie .:;) when i feel like it!

⚢ sapphics do not only deserve merely unrequited yearning!

⚢ we deserve emotional satisfaction!

⚢ inspired by Sappho’s lost works

⚢ soft sapphic love poetry

⚢ modern-day romantic

⚢ my name is faerie .:;

⚢ i have been writing at least since 2011

⚢ i write about my relationship with my girlfriend & love for her

⚢ this sapphic poetry blog is actually my first public portfolio of any flavor of my own work ever & i’m 26 as i write this & all this isolation was by choice!

🎀 i wear my heart on my sleeve & i am disabled & i am soft ❤︎.❤︎

🎀 i am an independent poet by trade, presently publishing exclusively to tumblr!

!!! ;:. yes, i am actually hand-writing a poem every day with surprising consistency for someone who hasn’t been hired once since they graduated in 2022.

!!! ;:. no, i don’t have an literary agent! presently. no, i have never been published by anyone who has given me money for my words. as of writing this.

!!! ;:. yes, you can contact me if you are interested in publishing my work in any official capacity (but be aware i am very wary of scammers)

!!! ;:. yes, eventually my work will additionally be stored on ao3 too (i will update this pinned post as it becomes necessary too)

this is my main blog!

@soft-sappy-sapphic

🌸 a portfolio of soft sapphic poetry, original content made by me (faerie .:;)

this is my side blog!

@starry-sappy-sapphic

🌺 overflow for any poetry & content i create that does not fit the niche of this main blog.

workaholia, melancholia .:; by faerie

i miss my girlfriend’s

sun beam eyes

my fur gets warm

like a cat sunning in

an open window

but she is out instead! i miss her!

she is working to keep us both

happy & well

i hope to keep her

happy & well one day soon

but for now

i just want her back in my arms

sleepy cat, poem by faerie .:;

i watch her sleep,

more, i feel her sleep next to me

she is tired but

if i touch her body

she reactively curls into me

often i let her be

let her not be disturbed in

awareness

sometimes i still cannot resist petting her hair

i know it selfish, she’s so tired but

fuck

she feels so good sleepily curling into me

this one is mine,

this, my sweet dove

she’s pretty & has the prettiest song

and she makes me feel safe

for the first time in my life

and all i ever wanted was warmth

my mockingbird, an original sapphic poem by faerie .:;

the mimics amongst us

are the most honest with themselves

when none think them honest

cause a mockingbird plucks her prettiest repertoire for her mate & humans call her

mocking

how evil of humans! to incite such self-doubt in divinity itself?

that mockingbird’s call is my own

i am a mockingbird. hers. belonged to another mockingbird.

do the humans not feel?

a human’s speech is mimicry

all human speech,

just another’s call

but folk lie and sneer and say mocking to a creature who knows not-…

she is joyful, screeching the notes on top of fence post that she aligns with and loves

and she think a mate will too

she mimics every flavor until her mate knows { it simply must be the other half of her soul over there making those pretty sounds }

simply knows no other creature could achieve such a titter

humans will sneer, the root of such sneer seems man-like

i am no man

just another creature akin who feels joy in her mimcry like no man of the humanity that chooses to sneer at my dances, calls, even my softest looks

align your heartstrings with my narrative threads, but your own heart is for your own plucking

has your heart noticed those words in that moment of time before? will you remember when others do not? do you worry if anyone will remember your song?

did you align your heart, little human?

how strange!

ah, what does it matter if you plucked a cacophony of words from others?!

you made this nest that you live within

but don’t allow yourself the kindness

soothing allowance of a bit of self-identification

within your own heart?

not on anyone’s page, but within your inner world

i can only tell you the words that align with my inner world

because my sweet mockingbird sang them to me and i gobbled them greedily

getting to me my nature, myself

because she sang me back at myself because she thought me the prettiest

how strange. i thought i would never feel that song in my heart

self-love

you must think it strange, seeing me like this — perhaps this the performance?

bravo, darling reader! you fell for the shtick of a mockingbird!

cat, haiku by faerie .:;

she thinks me soft but

i am a creature with claws

with fangs, you think cute

writing partner, life partner ;:. original poem by faerie .:;

creativity is our secret language

we spend days

shoulder to shoulder

most days

fingers flexing as

we type to each other

paragraphs and paragraphs

sonnets of speech

making each others hearts flutter

for the hope of it all

touched. original poem by faerie .:;

i’d forgotten who i was

she took my hand

pressed it to my chest

showing me where i was

my rapid-beating heart

am i crying?

i’d forgotten how

i thought it was impossible

but you

oh you impossible,

beautiful thing you…

showed me myself, again

how powerful! how strange!

how curious, this feeling!

how utterly rare!

becoming anew, original poem by faerie .:;

fuck, stingy nettles of frigid ice

around my heart

were a plague of my own devising

until

she wrapped me up

warmed my frozen heart

that wasn’t supposed to happen!

why does she care?

to my hear my heart beat

like she does

every night

and touch my soft skin

my sweet muse

turns icy nettles into vetiver

sapphic sex! haiku by faerie .:;

she is so pretty

gonna put my fingers in

within her soft lips

darkness, the kind that grips. original poem by faerie .:;

she’s starlight itself.

but me,

i’m the infinite darkness of space

& clutching at her greedily!

she feels so secure in my grip!

the specks of nothing

flock around her but-…

me, i don’t orbit.

i squeeze.

i am not

the gravity that keeps her in place,

but the darkness.

i keep holding her,

unmoving within me

my grip is tight on her clothes.

some call my obsession abstract things.

“starry-eyed,” some say

how i fawn over her sun spots!

i’m uncertain if i am still the darkness

flecked with her stardust? do i care?

Dove, a haiku by faerie .:;

she scuttled to me

with her oh-so tired wings

i will protect her