[writingblus]

i dont "go on walks," i dont "use character sheets" and i dont "plot before writing," i raw dog it, and if it doesnt flow, I FUCKING CRY.

[devoureve]

heavy on the “how’re you doing today”

[tankhall]

[havingapoemwithyou]

Prayer/Oracion by Francisco X. Alarcón tr. Francisco Aragón

[petaltexturedskies]

Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin Vol. II: 1934-1939

[diary-of-alice]

a love letter to grief❦

[tenderlypressed]

[literaryvein]

L. V., another page torn from the epilogue

[literaryvein]

[devoureve]

Flat Soda

1,825.

I knew you. And by “i knew you” i mean i fucking

suffered

violently vehemently fucking suffered

by your god damned hands.

not violence because im carving myself into you

(felt like i could have died cutting you out of me)

violence because i am fucking hemorrhaging

violence because i bent so far back my spine can’t see straight anymore

violence because i walked out with a limb missing

violence because it felt like fucking

war

But.

It wasn’t.

it was another

One thousand eight hundred and twenty five

days.

i guess some things just feel like the same thing.

like how our intertwined lives of five years unwound like yarn. and five years later.

Some things feel like the same thing.

& so, it just was, & it just is.

& i know that life works out the way that it does because

it has to

(at least that’s what i have to tell myself)

Or else. or else, or else.

-K. Eve

[writerglittercaffiene]

[literaryvein]

L. V., excerpts from the afterword

[literaryvein]

L. V., writing as you sleep

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

[mournfulroses]

Fyodor Dostoevsky, from a letter featured in Letters of Fyodor Michailovitch Dostoevsky to his Family & Friends

[unspeakablearchives]

[probuccalfat]

it’s fucking wild because one day you’re like i guess i’m not dying tragically young and you go to the store and you buy dental floss, ingredients for soup, and a bath mat

[probuccalfat]

it’s this sentiment in practice, in day to day.

[metamorphesque]

Tired, Langston Hughes