January 2010
1 post
Why You Should Never Marry A Poet | Heather Bell Think about it - the way that credit cards, bougainvillea, vacations, dictionaries, the road on the way to work will all never be enough. The poet wishes with her deepest bones and writes that she wishes she would have killed you in the supermarket. She wonders why she ever loved you in song. She publishes book after book. Each line detailing how...
August 2009
1 post
“I hope that you are a disaster.
I’m sorry, but I do.
I hope that you are...”
– joey, asofterworld.com (via capricious) (via alwaysregal)
July 2009
10 posts
I can't stop with these tonight
and this is why all I want is to be a writer, someday.
You Must Accept - Kate Light You must accept that’s who he really is. You must accept you cannot be his unless he is yours. No compromise. He is a canvas on which paint never dries; a clay that never sets, steel that bends in a breeze, a melody that when it ends no one can whistle. He is not who you thought. He’s not. He is a shoe that walks...
The Thing Is, Ellen Bass The thing is… to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you’ve held dear crumbles like burnt paper in your hands, your throat filled with the silt of it. When grief sits with you, its tropical heat thickening the air, heavy as water more fit for gills than lungs; when grief weights you like your own flesh only more of it, an...
more things i didn't want to relate to again
It’s been so long since I’ve been by myself And I need this more than you will ever know People like you and me never felt the breeze People like you and me will never know the easy way I scream into the wind and laugh As the words slap me in hte face I would gladly trade a lifetime of convenience For and honest day or two It’s just not the same when you’re staring Into a...
“so i’m beginning to see some problems
with the ongoing work of my mind
and...”
– ani difranco (via capricious) (via alwaysregal)
life used to be life-like now it’s more like show biz i wake up in the night and i don’t know where the bathroom is and i don’t know what town i’m in or what sky i am under and i wake up in the darkness and i don’t have the will anymore to wonder and everyone has a skeleton and a closet to keep it in and you’re mine every song has a you a you that the singer...
Wait
Wait, for now.
Distrust everything, if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven’t they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become lovely again.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again,
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands. And the...
I have no idea why I just signed up for this or what to do with it.