𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑

only the stars can judge the person i become.

[aerigonee]

on my tongue lay the words that had been caught in my throat in the form of a lump i struggled to swallow whole forced out into the air they disappear into the sound and still i am left unsaid

[aerigonee]

every pain every burden rest heavy inside the arch of my back my body lays in the dirt my face is hidden from the sun the earth shifts into sand i sink under the weight of all the words you never say silence lives inside your throat i am wanting i am pleading for the sound of your voice i am starved of affection i am hungry for your touch your hands caress only what they would possess like a bandage pulled from a wound too soon you strip yourself away from my flesh i am left bare for whomever may comes next

[luthienne]

The summer is ending and the darkening of evenings—which in other years brought me fatigue and sorrow—now close over me lightly.

Heather Christle, The Crying Book (via luthienne)

[antigonick]

If I speak for the dead, I must leave this animal of my body,

Ilya Kaminsky, excerpt of “Author’s Prayer”, in Dancing in Odessa (via antigonick)

[aerigonee]

As my story came to a close I realized that I was the villain all along.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt,  The Tiny Book of Tiny Stories, Vol. 2

[luthienne]

Like a river has no need of air, nor the sea of land, nor the sword of banquets, I have no need of the world if you are not in it.

Dulce María Loynaz, Absolute Solitude: Selected Poems; “Poema XXXVI” (tr. James O’Connor)

[Original: Fuera de ti ha de sobrarme el mundo, como le sobra al río el aire, al mar la tierra, a la espada la mesa del convite.]

(via luthienne)

[antigonick]

But there are days I wish there was less in my head to examine, not to speak of the busy heart.

Mary Oliver, excerpt of “Percy (Nine)”, in The Truro Bear and Other Adventures (via antigonick)

[weltenwellen]

I touched the bottom of suffering, and then I rebelled, violently, and definitely.

Anais Nin, Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anais Nin, 1939-1947 (via weltenwellen)

[aerigonee]

and i couldn’t tell you enough that i’m sorry / and no, you couldn’t tell me enough that you love me

Dermont Kennedy

[morsvita-deactivated20200809]

“The darkness was more compassionate to his swollen and violent heart.”

— Virginia Woolf, from Orlando

[aerigonee]

a drop of black rippled into a sea of red flowing into the waves of blue that spiral shades of silver that drips down heavy on the crown of gold

[aerigonee]

do you hear the pounding against the cage inside my chest, the rattling of my heart tossed from one end to the next, the ripping sound it makes as it breaks and tears to pieces, the crimson that escapes as my suspiration ceases

[aerigonee]

my feet sink deep into the soft earth, it wants to take me back and make me clay and dust, to nourish the soil and give back the life that was stolen

[aerigonee]

feeling the warmth of another's skin pressed deep inside until my soul releases sparks of fire burning crimson that fades into amber turning ashes to gold

[aerigonee]

there’s something false in the way she laughs, like in one moment she will break down into pieces.

[aerigonee]

like a falling star combusted into flames, will you be mesmerized as the fire licks away until only ash remains.

[aerigonee]

there it was on the tip of my tongue, a song untuned to a melody unsung.