Ocean Vuong, from âTell Me Something Good.â
occasionally subtle
Cosimo Galluzzi
Peter Solarz

Origami Around
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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JVL

izzy's playlists!
Misplaced Lens Cap
đȘŒ
Mike Driver
Aqua Utopiaïœæ”·ăźćșă§èšæ¶ă玥ă
Not today Justin
taylor price

Discoholic đȘ©

@theartofmadeline
styofa doing anything

blake kathryn

No title available
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

seen from Greece
seen from Panama

seen from United States

seen from Belgium

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Mexico
seen from United States
seen from TĂŒrkiye

seen from United States
@breathlessgrace
Ocean Vuong, from âTell Me Something Good.â
It Lasts Forever and Then It's Over, Anne de Marcken
lovers, of course, are notoriously frantic epistemologists, second only to paranoiacs (and analysts) as readers of signs and wonders.
*
adam phillips, on flirtation
Margaret Atwood, from "February"
people r always saying âget therapyâ 2 ppl who have actually had too much therapy and need to do two years of a brutal physical labor job instead Genuinely no more therapy-speak and obsessing over the supposed intricacies of your average mind for you get your ass on the Alaskan salmon fishing boat
Franny Choi, from "I Guess By Now I Thought Iâd Be Done With Shame"
Jenny Xie, from "Zuihitsu", Â Eye Level
Long-worn, tattle-taled, wonder-struck, of course you were full of spite the minute you saw me again. All these months of preparation for absence in a single moment: dissolved, disregarded. I felt some kind of disrespect although there was hardly enough time to calibrate a reaction as such. You and me, we're all sentiment, you said, we're soft as sand, we're slipped off. Well! It isn't the worst to be seen by you; I can imagine many worse fates. For instance, the forest in the morning. For instance, waking up unable to lift my hand.
*
Casually resting on your bed I remember the deep green spread You were far away, on the phone or something, and for once I thought: What a beautiful man
*
Come on then, don't drag this on. I'm not doing this to protect you nor am I doing this to hurt you. In fact whatever I am doing right now is agnostic to your gentle heart.
The last thing he ever said to me was: stay dead.
In response, I wrote a poem that ended with:
I obey your absence,
I break and maul; I destroy
the kitchen, myself, the bed.
For you, I learn
the art of staying dead.
He never liked my poems; I was sure as hell he wouldn't like this one. But I suppose, sometimes, that's exactly the point. To be abhorred, enraging, unbearable. Pull me out then, feather plucked, needle swung. I'm as terrible to remember as I am to forget.
*
In seeing you again all these years later the best I can think is to withdraw any forgiveness I might have accidentally offered
It doesn't serve me well to be good Better I feel unconquered and bitter The anger really does wonders for me My skin's clearer than it's ever been
âI obey your absence, I break and maul; I destroy the kitchen, myself, the bed. For you, I learn the art of staying dead.â
â WE SURVIVED, AS WE DID, Aditi Nagrath
âPart of having a body means whatever can be felt can be forgotten. Forgetting is like sleep, like water. Heavy wet brain. Clear swollen dreams. It is some kind of relief, I guess, that whatever I am will be gone one day.â
â Sanna Wani, âWho is the Sun, Asking for Sleep?â, My Grief, the Sun
Natalie DĂaz, from âGrief Workâ, Postcolonial Love Poem
07/29
[like orpheus, I am not strong enough to not look at what I want]
on death with 1. lilies abounded, @petfurniture, twitter; 2. frances molina, âoâdeathâ
Margarita Karapanou, tr. by Karen Emmerich, Rien ne va plus
Ocean Vuong, from âNot Evenâ, Time Is a Mother
Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib, from âAnd What Good Will Your Vanity Be When The Rapture Comesâ