and miles to go before i sleep

i like art and flowers, red lipstick and tea

[awildseed]

You Will Not Take My Heart Alive, Joanna Newsom

[artcompilations]

A Mad Man who does Not Love Me - Maisoon Saqr, trans. Khaled Mattawa // Pride and Prejudice (2005) // Can’t Help Falling in Love - Elvis Presley // The Touch - Anne Sexton 

[inkskinned]

i’ve been obsessed, lately, with the way we say things. how sometimes you hear the great northeast in the clip of my “course” and the back-of-the-mouth “roof.” about how i find out little bits about where you grew up just from the way you slide through “news.” 

our bodies splayed on the floor of my room. i open the book i’m writing about you and say how do you say this and i point to hedonist. 

you say head-on-ist.

i say it’s heed-on-ist.

you say you heathen and i’m struck by the smile on you.

i scoop up water in my palms and watch it run out. is it in-sure-unce or in-sure-ance. 

in-sure-ance. your hair is catching the sun. i watch your mouth move around the syllables like syrup.

we’re outside and i point up. is that a firefly or a lightning bug? 

you look over to me. whatever it is, i’m in love.

and whatever it is, i’m in love.

[inkskinned]

They wrote only ever about first love. First love was every novel, every movie, every artist rendition. First love was a fire, the stars, the universe; an expansion you never recover from, an ache that never dies.

But what of us who did not love the right person that first precious time.

What about us who carry that break like a knife fight, who learned from the falling, who put up better defenses. The excuses we make for not trying again litter our beds. The habits to hide our softness.

God, I want to be tender like a wound but I already healed over. Instead I know not to touch the stove because I’ve seen what happens.

Oh I close my eyes. My new love is not a bullet or a bike chain.

My new love is soft. It’s teaching a drought the goodness of rain.

[stylelogs]

[sweetestsecrets]

“I can’t count the times that I have dreamed of sharing this sea and this sky with you.”

— Ernesto Sabato, from “The Tunnel,” originally published c. May 1948 (via violentwavesofemotion)

[20aliens-deactivated20200625]

[littlestpersimmon]

but I always thought you were cool

[inkskinned]

it’s just going to be like this, huh? i’m going to walk around with nightmares and what you did to me sitting in my stomach like a rotting peach and i’m just going to swallow hard and keep walking and i’m just going to have to live like this, knowing you’ll never apologize, knowing i don’t get closure, knowing i never get to yell at you until i shred apart, knowing i’m going to shred apart. 

and you get to live your life and forget about me and scoff about how im crazy or making shit up or how i’m just dramatic. you get to keep going, laugh about it, shrug it off. we both know i’m melodramatic. that my personal narrative is all messed up. that i make shit up.

like, it must be nice. showers are probably just showers for you. no standing in the water picturing what i’d say, what i’d do, how i’d show you. you get to walk away. that must be nice.

not all of us do.

[inkskinned]

baby! i look at you and my heart remembers the time when my atoms were a mossy log, all ray of sun. you make me remember a summer i never had. feel like a future where we live with our rescue dogs and greenhouses. make you more flower crowns. when i dance with you it feels easy, one-two-three. like kitchens are ballrooms.

i been lookin for ways to tell you i miss you but they always seem so silly. the glow of your eyes puts a sun in my spine. hearing you laugh is a meadow i never want to stop running in. i want to spend all my time finding ways to fill up your life. you’re warm cookies. good coffee at sunrise. a book and soft socks and rain on the rooftop. 

[alonesomes]

I’m posting most of my new stuff on my Instagram: Instagram.com/caitlynsiehl

[especially]

[morganhessart]

“How long, you know? How long until I stop wanting big things and settle for a fold-out table making me happy?” @inkskinned

[memoryslandscape-deactivated202]

“They say nothing lasts forever but they’re just scared it will last longer than they can love it.”

— Ocean Vuong, from On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (Penguin, 2019)

[inkskinned]

this is cheesy, isnt it. writing to what is already broke. // a semi-collab between r.i.d & z.m.g

[inkskinned]

Oh man. Looking at you makes me stupid. I get obsessed with the smallest things. How you look while examining your fingernails. When you stretch, the curve of your neck. The slip of your spine. How wonderful. How enchanting.

You look up. Wrinkle your nose. “Why are you staring?”

I get wordless. All tangled heat and longing. I wanna build a universe where we never get out of bed. I wanna crawl into your arms like ivy, catch your laughter from the air and spin it into a blanket. You make me feel like I’m moss on a tree which is to say you make me feel like I’m home and where I’m supposed to be. Around you I trap sunlight. I want to tell you the inside of the forest you planted in me.

Open my mouth. “You’re a nerd.”

Classy.

[wylansvaneck]

he is half of my soul, as the poets say.

the song of achilles ― by madeline miller