izzy's playlists!
Xuebing Du
bliss lane
The Bowery Presents
ellievsbear
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
untitled
Noah Kahan
hello vonnie
pixel skylines
No title available
macklin celebrini has autism
YOU ARE THE REASON
oozey mess
will byers stan first human second
Stranger Things
noise dept.
h
taylor price
Monterey Bay Aquarium
seen from Switzerland
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seen from Venezuela
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seen from Switzerland
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seen from United Kingdom
seen from Ecuador
seen from Switzerland
seen from France
seen from Chile
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seen from Russia
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seen from France
@evenasmallcough
it's okay to feel bad about bad things happening. to feel grief over loss, rage over injustice. it's okay to weep and scream. it seems like poems are the last place where it's okay to sit with a difficult set of tangled emotions. and leave it at that. at being a living thing.
- chen chen
enough
every sentence is an ending and it is not. There's another sentence expected after it.
Travis L. Tate, except from Summer City
Anne Sexton, from an interview featured in No Evil Star: Selected Essays, Interviews & Prose
Heart
My glass house thrown at stones
- Andrea Cohen, from Long Division
It was a time in the world after Leila Chatti, The Visible World
Most days, I just wanted to go. My veins split from too much missing. Remember the warm dark of summer? Rain heavier than thought. Incomplete kisses. A lie from a favorite mouth like steam screaming from a kettle. You know—things that shake you. The universe was expanding, but my world was shrinking. Despite everything, there is still a heart in me that loves and doesn’t want to play dead, that breaks for— Sky. Crepe myrtle. Crêpes. The tender specks of stardust under my nails. All the little nothings that keep asking me to stay.
— cora finch
THE VISIBLE WORLD
Lilac willing to be beautiful. Wild blackberries, wild lack—now my tenderness is full of briars. The light like velvet. It was a time in the world. The bluey lake dimming, the rhubarb. You know—that simple. Despite everything, there is still a self in me who worships the visible world and doesn't take it back. Egrets. Milkweed. Milk. I am being here, right now.
- Leila Chatti
when Gracie Abrams said:
You were my worst time You were the shoreline You were the crash and now I break
I'm far out, I'm by the shoreline, I I, I lived there in my spare time I know better than cold goodbyes
But in the morning, submissive once more, I Melt, like a slender candle… And then from my bare shoulder A black ribbon slides.
- Anna Akhmatova
A quiet morning feels dangerous, but so does
a loud one. A child straps on her backpack, gets ready to know. If I say: It is despair, precisely
well that just makes it precise. I want to feel like I had a hand in it, making the world.
- Maggie Nelson, excerpt from Dailies
Sleep in the center of morning,
Maggie Nelson, excerpt from Vallejo
I speak to you with my whole soul at the edge of my lips.
Maria Casares, to Albert Camus, July 18, 1949
Katherine Mansfield, from a diary entry featured in The Letters & Journals of Katherine Mansfield
Inside the trees are souls I think Souls that grow and change Inside each leaf, so quiet A memory of moments no one else has seen But no man ever listens Takes the time to think That trees might see what happens That in the way they rustle Is a hint they wish to speak.
- Jennifer Lynch, from The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer
They say the forest heals, some say faster than the heart—
Deahna Fumarol, excerpt from After the Work Is Done
Hawk's Nest, 1917 by Daniel Garber (American, 1880--1958)
