Śūnyatā

F/25/INTP Everyday, I feel less real

[lifeinpoetry]

Like so many sharp things, I know

I couldn’t stand to watch myself disappear into you.

— Bailey Cohen, from “Have I Ever Been Wicked?” published in The Boiler

[theanxiouschild]

I have crossed oceans of time to find you.

Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992)

[salemwitchtrials-deactivated202]

[ID: excerpt from “Alcestis,” a poem by Kate Daniels 

I smoothed the feathers of my heart afraid to grow frail and hysterical. I wanted the company of cold people who would never touch me.’]

[artfilmfan]

Rooney Mara as Mary Magdalene smoking a cigarette beneath crucified Jesus

[witlovesyou]

[sunsetquotes]

“The rain is full of ghosts tonight.”

— Edna St. Vincent Millay

[lifeinpoetry]

I am sorry my clutch is all

tendon and no discipline: the heart is a severed kind of muscle and alone.

I can hear yours in your room. I hear mine in another room. In another’s.

— Brenda Shaughnessy, from “Epithalament,” Legitimate Dangers: American Poets of the New Century

[the-devils-sin-deactivated20251]

After you, I dressed into a million different beings, trying to find the one soul you hadn’t touched.

-Makenzie Hipple

[derangedrhythms]

She liked herself best in darkness, as do I.

Barbara Kingsolver, The Poisonwood Bible

[derangedrhythms]

Margaret Atwood, You Are Happy; from ‘Circe / Mud Poems’

[derangedrhythms]

Margaret Atwood, The Penelopiad

[lifeinpoetry]

After the spasm / of youthfulness, time is eating itself out. // And I ask, like I do not know, / what darkness shall befall us // from the mouth of light?

— Saddiq Dzukogi, from Book Two, Bakandamiya

[toiich]

The Taste of Tea (2004), dir. Katsuhito Ishii

[midnightinshadow]

[venustapolis]

The Artist’s Home (Arthur Wasse, 1920)

[pigeon-post-office]

Dreaming is a language

~Dearest regards Pigeon-post-office

[astriloquum]