cherry valley forever
$LAYYYTER
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Peter Solarz
No title available
occasionally subtle
Not today Justin
styofa doing anything
tannertan36
Mike Driver
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
d e v o n
#extradirty
Xuebing Du
No title available
Stranger Things
RMH
hello vonnie
NASA
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Russia
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from South Korea
seen from Malaysia
seen from Italy
seen from Belgium
seen from Netherlands
seen from Germany
seen from Canada
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from South Korea
seen from Italy
seen from Malaysia
seen from India
seen from India
@fullofdandelions
mirror
i want to be in the picture frames
in the halls, in my room
lay on my back in the garden
and the garden belongs to me
i am here because i will stay
im not leaving, i’m not leaving
my friends know me
they braid my hair
and in the mirror
i am in the mirror
homesickness
this is not home
the door is open
i know the hallways
know the rooms
and where i keep the vacuum cleaner
and plastic bags
and cardboard boxes
saved, just because
every wall painted white
i’ll leave it untarnished and barren
the idea of
inserting any part of myself
onto this space
other than my physical body already occupying some tangible volume within these walls
this box
feels as though i’m allowing myself to be home
allowing myself to taint untouched sterility
allowing myself someplace
of belonging
that i should not be allowed
i am the fingermarks and oil stains and mire of everything i come in contact with
and i wash my hands in the sink until i cannot feel my body anymore
i am not here, i am not home, i am not homesick
nobody knows i left
in the middle of the night
it was cold
red hands that hurt to move
and so windless
beyond me, clear skies and blurry stars
i didn’t clean my glasses
i never do
sat on that rock i one day decided
would be my favourite place on earth
i felt, feel so minuscule from up there
watching the houses and trees and harvested wheat fields
watching the ocean behind the fog and the bridge that disappears into it
the windows look like little stars as they extinguish, die one by one
every one of them gradually melting into night
still the bridge’s pylons protest the dark
with tireless wavering lights
they look so insignificant from here
i’ve been laying in these poppy fields
thought about when i stopped being human
i think the day i glanced at all those people
i realised not a single one shared the same
eyes as me
they moved in a way i didn’t
they spoke in a way i couldn’t
they loved in a way i wouldn’t
is this even a conscious existence if i am unaligned with man
am i instinct?
an unknown desire for survival?
am i ungoverned flesh?
rampant with animalistic tendencies?
the public stares at me in shame
but rest assured
i’ll decompose with these fields
and these grimaces i pull will disintegrate with me
to die in obscurity, because i was never human enough to deserve existence
and still to never cease
as a paradoxical nonentity
the boats sink behind the vista
has she ever taken off those heavy shoes and socks
that, like magnets, cling her to the earth’s crust
stepped into those cool salted waters
and seen how the horizon only shelves a dark blue underline to the sky
the boats sink behind the vista
rocks dig into her soles with each step she takes
every one of them covered in a slippery, fuzzy green blanket
until it’s only sand and sand and sand before the eventual drop into the depths
lay her down in that heaviness
let the waves cling to every jagged edge on her tired body
watch that sky dissipate and hope there is nothing else down here
hear how every sound muffles and fades and melds into a silence
the boats sink behind the vista
plague
autopsy report:
victim died of
hypothermia
was left to not rot
in the permafrost
his corpse would’ve remained
alive and cold and unmoving
hibernating and dead
with every disease he carried
he knew his breath was toxic
every inch of his limbs
covered in a thick dark sludge
thick dark sludge
with a grotesque kind of sound to it
he was avoided like the plague
and he wondered if he had the plague
or maybe a curse
because every step of the way
his body’s incurable diseases
made sure everyone
kept a safe distance
when he died in the permafrost
there wasn’t a smile or a smirk on his face
not relief
but when he died his hands were laid nicely
on his chest, like he was displayed in a coffin
death was welcomed
he was afraid of dying
but death was welcomed
hair
sometimes i consider
taking the scissors
and cutting all my hair off
because i am afraid
that my hair still carries those memories
that seep from my brain
and that my hair becomes
a vessel
for all the things i want to forget
entangled in a web of
brown string
my lungs black with tar
olfactory hallucinations
in my hair
how tears burn
like smoke in my eyes
constellations of
specks of ash
that paint
the bonfire
when i breathe
the wind
that carries
the soot
and it chars
my airways
a lovely chestnut brown
my lungs
black with tar
the city’s nervous system
swallowing droplets of light
as they precipitate into my peripheral
warmth travelling down my oesophagus
when i drink the city’s tears
electricity runs through its nervous system
the brightness a sign of its servitude
each spot an eye upon an eye upon an eye
polluting the skies with a dreary glance
on the most quiet of days
on the most quiet of days
where i can hear the wind in the leaves through the closed windows
the sun gushing in through them
a warm sound of buzzing fills the empty, lived in house
the playhouse stands barren
and the field the swings stand upon
stretches far
the tv’s on
static playing on loop
and manure still heavy in the air
through the closed windows
the shutters leave trails of light
with the living room table gently touched by it
yet i am shuffling under the covers
pulling them up to my nose
with this childlike wonder and joy
this moment will not last
but in the heat of the blanket
in the darkness behind the blinds
on the most quiet of days
i am safe
ceiling
i’ll stare at the ceiling
and it’ll extend
into the infinite void
behind my eyes
how i disappear
behind my eyes
to reach for the ivory
that drapes my room
i am more than this
i am less than this
and i hope
when the cracks in the wall
grow bigger and crumble
that when the ceiling falls on me
it is heavy
i wonder when it ended
when the spring barley fields
got pushed behind the sound barrier
to make room for all of those houses
when roller skates were put
in that plastic box with the knee and elbow protectors
and set in the back on a far up shelf i can suddenly reach
when the vhs tapes and the old grey tv
were replaced by the new flat screen hanging on the wall
with no need to wait for 7 pm when they play old cartoons now
i wonder when it ended
sitting on those metal football goals
and climbing the playground wall despite the callouses
and when the bushes were still called the forest
here we lie
here i lie
and it’s warm
braid each finger into one another
like they grew like this
like roots
and may the grass and clovers and dandelions engulf us
as spring summer passes
here we lie
and it’s warm
and it’s getting colder
red yellow brown leaves fall
like a blanket onto us
lay completely still
you might see a beetle
crawl from hill top to hill top (our knees)
and here it is warm
out the window
out the window
just behind the pane
stretches the world so untouched
orchards and harbour wharfs and gravel roads
you are the only to exist
no other breathing to match yours
no other shoulders to touch yours
those houses stand vacant
those streets unwalked
the sky unseen
every cloud passing will only have you
as their witness
and you will forget
and those clouds may very well
never have been there
when you lay down on that hill
tearing your eyes from that never-ending horizon
just to meet the celestial sphere
the world will forget, too
they spread your ashes in the sea
the world smells different today
small frogs hop on the rocks
it was summer again
staring out onto the lake
the lake didn’t end
the shoreline never showed itself on the other side
there was no other side of the lake
further and further out
just getting deeper and deeper
and eventually
at the bottom
right there was the core of the earth
warm and pulsing
submerged in lake summer water
it had never looked like that before