🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
todays bird
h
roma★
Mike Driver
blake kathryn
Cosimo Galluzzi
Sweet Seals For You, Always
No title available
will byers stan first human second
NASA
occasionally subtle
Origami Around
titsay
EXPECTATIONS
noise dept.
No title available
YOU ARE THE REASON
shark vs the universe
d e v o n
seen from United Kingdom
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seen from Costa Rica
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seen from Mexico
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@i--amnt-blog
I realized something today. My languishing heart has never been victimized under my courses of action. In simpler terms, I have never broken my heart. In the midst of being in the middle of social interactions and relationships-I fell in love again with my solidarity. Intimacy and affection has been over-glorified as a shared connection between two people…but it’s so much more than that.
Ambrosia.
the ambrosia is eaten today all remains in the light, within the gutters a whimsical sound of furious sex while the whores of St. Matthew's street whimper in all their glory here is the latter the survived have claimed a furnace burned in infernal dust ashes crown the legacies while mudworms suffocate the ravaged yes, it is known to be real oh! the rejoiced! and the relishes... forbidden in a crack of limestone the embers of stolen souls and the chatter of the worn burlap rest here with ambrosias hammered in their gluttonous bellies! sleep well the humble kinds awake into the sound of a newborn begins again, begins again, begins again
i’m not quite sure, this is weak
if you coiled into my like you’ve never been more afraid
i think i would love you more than i could have ever imagined
to feel needed and wanted, is the ephemeral sensation
i would retreat back into the echoes of my heart and soul
while willows whisper in the placid scene
i’ve wanted you, for too long
my soul has wasted away for you
but just like every byronic tale,
my soul will not diminish only falter and weaken
because it’s humanistic
your noxious love has damaged me too long
i think that this venal love is sickening
and i ask of you to never speak to or of me again
5/6/16
dear universe,
you have taken all of me. i walk like a past apparition that mourns the loss of itself, it hurts being like this. my teeth crack while my lungs rot under the tables that we hide with. my six foot soul has been hiding under 3 inch walls and i have no longer been able to see the life in anything anymore. the scratches of dry leaves on dry pavement has been ringing in my ear since morning while the smell of clementine skins sleeps on my fingertips. my hair blows in the wind, and with it go the ashes, the ashes, the ashes that have been spread all along the floor since decades ago. waterlilies are choking me while the eyes are watching me-do i have mercy? will you let me succeed in this one life that i have been given or shall i remain again as the cracked pieces of shell under a dubious moon. i have floated to the surfaces of the water while sun beams prick at my eyes like a hungry crow-relentless, ruthless and i- dehumanized in the pollen grains and stippled sand that sticks to my thighs as i lift myself up. sweat and dust is what i leave behind. i light my last and final smoke and i step into the salty waters and dwell into the uttermost parts of the sea.
goodbye my throne, my steel, my soul. i have drowned beneath the heart of hell itself. where have i gone?
Do you think I am an automaton? — a machine without feelings? and can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips, and my drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! — I have as much soul as you — and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you. I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh: it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God’s feet, equal — as we are!
Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre (via prideful-peep)
It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquillity: they must have action; and they will make it if they cannot find it. Millions are condemned to a stiller doom than mine, and millions are in silent revolt against their lot. Nobody knows how many rebellions besides political rebellions ferment in the masses of life which people earth. Women are supposed to be very calm generally: but women feel just as men feel; they need exercise for their faculties, and a field for their efforts, as much as their brothers do; they suffer from too rigid a restraint, to absolute a stagnation, precisely as men would suffer; and it is narrow-minded in their more privileged fellow-creatures to say that they ought to confine themselves to making puddings and knitting stockings, to playing on the piano and embroidering bags. It is thoughtless to condemn them, or laugh at them, if they seek to do more or learn more than custom has pronounced necessary for their sex.
Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Brontë
If you think books written in the 1800s are irrelevant today, you’re incorrect.
(via a-little-fall-of-ravenclaw)
crave
My hands have become rough like leather We have wandered this elusive maze of air and breeze The sweeping landscapes of the hills And the poppies that weep underneath the leaking of the chromatic sun It skirts the hills and embraces the cloud I stand in the middle of all My hands trace the frames of my body-the craving of touch in becoming more wild It has become so unendurable The pure agony of my lonely song It drips down the lace strands of ribbons and bonnets Everything has fallen apart But the essence of lone has survived within the madness of thawing teardrops That have been written along the poppy fields and the enchanted lights Everything has provoked me to this- Unstill and ravenous
the blood
By the edge of night, we have crept through all that his consumed us We shake in the face of something unholy Fallen angel of thine, begging father for his unblemished mind and awakened ears My sins gone with the spirit My sons, my fruitless soul that thoust carried well Soured torture of today's light Rest upon mine head Rest upon mine head, receiver of the fortunes The winds cannot favor my leave the harbored songs Harrowed through the eternal fortresses Of being Of giving And of reforming Forward on heavenly grass equitable was thy embodiment My shout shrieks with the owls call We sleep without knowing mine of heart Everything shall rest behind us follow me, sons of this cavernous state The blood of the moon ascends while the blackness of night Sacrifice thee of this disdainful fate All shall be lost And carried on Through days and night
In the gloaming, my skin fails to wither not even the hardening of touch slipping through the shadows of frost’s kiss or fire’s bite tends to the- the nepenthe of my sorrow a numbing sensation and the hollow ways I seek the night in the plains of our shattering fingers entangled in soft embrace I see the mirror of my dissociation… the sound of the dissolve deepening as I float -I have been floating to the limelight a blackened space to which I rest my head on the lap of Lucifer the palm of his scallion skin glides across the locks of hair which cascade slowly, down his body this, the subliminal picture
I confess to him the orphic nature of my want for the everlasting sleep while, his possession of me becomes more intense, more poisonous…
and the last second I remember of the color; were the times of heartbreak, heart-wrenching, life-eating, soul-sucking moments which pushed me deeper into the soil I remember the serenity I felt- onism no longer remaining in the dark, hauntingly reverberating in my body; the purest form of alleviation
when the leaves fell to the ground with striking eloquence in their fugacious return, and I was overwhelmed by the physical myriad to which I was now connected to for during my living I could only see but never understand the chimerical flow of existence until I wept not because of sorrow but because of the immense conclusion to the velleity that lingered in my being I, a refuge of the world I, no longer sank to the oblivion I, was within the surface of all life the unspoken realm of emotion- “Eunoia”…
Collection of Nothings from the Past Two Months
10/8/15
I think about caring for someone a lot. There's a chime in my head and I feel a glisten.
10/1/15
When he speaks, I hear liquid gold.
10/1/15
I lost my breath and the world went by with haste.
9/29/15
grass greens under a slow rain
9/27/15
As soon as the hour hits late, I feel blue blue blue
9/27/15
I gave up the ghost.
9/27/15
I remember. I remember the smell of ashes in my hair the morning after.
9/22/17
I’ll find my way
9/8/17
Whenever I leave the house, a part of me stays behind. I lose myself out there. An introverts heart is scattered along the home floors.
9/7/17
After maddening silence-I realized we were better at being strangers than we were anything more.
9/6/15
four walls, weakened heart, the discarnate spirit
9/4/15
concept: I am underwater, rays of light pierce through the surfaces of water-I am one with the dimension. I am breathing.
9/1/15
August 11th, 2015 12:43 a.m. THE KICK Ate Acid, Heard Everything
and when you hit 27, you will let yourself go
I, the storm, destitute of my rain; my wrath & thunder.
I've been gone
Hello...Hello?
4:24 a.m.
The devoid of you
Is what made me run for you Never you, never this Never the dysfunction in the space between us Between hands and glances Fallen for something unreal Like a desire to sleep in clouds And only to dream and dream and dream
Never waking I never want to awake to you to this to you Can anybody hear me? It’s so cold here
I forgot what the warmth in my ears felt like
Hello
Can I have your hand now?
Eat Acid, See God
3:14 a.m. "ate acid, heard everything" We drove down the hills An effusive glow from orange street lamps running alongside a gliding car And I, sitting in the backseat In the becoming of a heliotropic- It was a late night blanketed in the ushers of music The whispers between a lover and I And the urbane scent of leather and whiskey pertaining the characteristic of sweetness underneath my tongue Everything seemed unbelievably, undeniably...natural. I ran my fingers through the moss, through heavenly grass; then I closed my eyes to feel the essence of beatific candle-light shading over me Out of date Christmas lights hung And I lay on a mattress With closed eyes-I become one with the earth My skin, the texture of grass My eyes, watered in sea glass My mouth, dry of spoken poetry My fingers, reviving to a familiar ingenuity But my silent being, enmeshed in the cosmos A torrid affair that I sing in song About the azure sky and my longing to feel something That moved in waves and waves and waves Much like the water beneath me Flowing in a fey grace In the unexposed silence, I hear the acrosonicism of celestial water that drips in a creek And yet again I Believing to carry the aura of a favonian wind However-no such kind would stay with me I could only perish from thereon I could perish to all that could carry me A paroxysm of desire that I became heavy with Dragged me out It dragged me out To the umbra A new vigilance that sat on my shoulders, leading me to something that I would never question again Even when the pages of mind perambulate to follow obsolete nothingness I subsist to knowing that I am one with the earth But even still, in this sibliant axiom Here I am Telling this story; a pseudo-erudite Fleeing to my old solipsistic self Rather than admitting a euphoria Obtained only by not knowing myself It was the in rainbows that accentuated to my existence, my being To which I believed I discovered The temperamental heart of mine Sulking in the sea foam of the atoll And I wasn't thy body I never remained I: in the air... In the air In the air ...(hours passed, but night never grew old. I fell to a paralyzing slumber.)
The only way I know how to live is inside my head-I don't know any other forms.
confessions
Today I walked in a dream, but I unfold-revealing; tainted & plain.
collection of haikus (1/365)
But for me, you were going to be the end of the world.
something that stayed with me, even after leaving
