January 2011
28 posts
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I think about you immediately upon waking every morning. My mind skims over those short few days, when your hand found mine as easily as breathing, and my head seemed to fit perfectly into the crook of your neck. I miss the person you were in the summer, but not who you’ve become. Your warm heart has turned to stone. And I can go about the rest of my day without having you cross my mind...
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There are so many things I had to tell her when...
and once she got off the train, she disappeared into the crowd, and I never got the chance. Suddenly Penn Station became very small, and although filled with people, lonely. I would scream if I thought she heard me, I would call if I knew she’d answer.
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I’m like this every time, I meet a nice girl that shows interest in me and before we even exchange numbers I’m already thinking about how it’s going to end. Fast forward past all the good parts that could be us to the unfortunate demise of a relationship that had no chance. I am the problem and I have no solution, all because of her. It’s a little selfish of me to say that...
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With a groan, I rolled over to look at my clock. Four a.m. I rolled over again to reach for my phone from under my pillow. I might as well text you about the crazy dream I just had, because that has always been our routine. But as I held my phone in one hand and rubbed my eyes with the other, I realized that I couldn’t even start typing the text. We hadn’t spoken in weeks. I had...
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With your head thrown back. Watching your throat, like a mound of sculpted wax bridging me to my brokenness, letting it be passage for the air that expands you. The girl I’ve loved for six years caressed your obsidian locks she saved from cut, and I could only wish I could endure it without caring.
Then, I wet my face, pressing my forehead into the counter top, to make a faucet of my own....
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The Everly Brothers — “All I Have To...
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i would take a Sharpie Marker
and write all over your skin the shit i never got to say. not blue, not red, but jet black- jet black ink screaming my words. not softly. but hard and loaded with intention.
via mydamnscatteredmind.
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fufmadz asked: follow me
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the filament i used.
my voice echoed up the winding stairs, vacant, left with ghosts of our bodies once tangled in the fibers of the soiled carpet. you and i, we ate the love like breakfast on sundays; drizzled in warmth, there is nothing but christmas.
lately, i’ve been memorizing your memories. and one by one, they gather like old cut outs of newspaper clippings. i use my breaths to wipe them clean of dust...
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buzz
dust settles in the curve of your eyelashes, but you don’t bother to brush it away. lying in the same position as yesterday, the covers sunk around the outline of your fragile frame, you’re discovering pictures in the swirls of paint in the walls. pictures of places you’ll never see. a fly buzzes somewhere in the house, trapped between a screen and a pane of glass. caught between...
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Etta James — “Almost Persuaded”
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The heart remains the same
When he couldn’t sleep he watched the street, lit up orange, below. Most of the few people he saw at night were young men slowly staggering home; heads lolled back and arms swinging languidly at their sides, when together, they would stop each other from drunkenly running up the wrong stoop with a simple tug on the arm. When girls appeared, they were often alone. He watched them walk up the...
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It’s too cold to be alone.
(via rinther)
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Anonymous asked: Scenerio: You're getting attacked by a serial killer. He pins you down and whispers in your ear "Why do you deserve to live," to determine whether or not you benefit the world around you in any way, and if he is satisfied with your answer, you live. If not, he kills you.
What would you tell him?
What would you tell him?
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