Guy backing up a truck with one hand = Victorian man seeing ankles for the first time
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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
wallacepolsom

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Monterey Bay Aquarium
cherry valley forever
Not today Justin
Sweet Seals For You, Always

#extradirty

roma★
One Nice Bug Per Day
Claire Keane
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if i look back, i am lost
Today's Document
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
sheepfilms
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@poeticdabbler
Guy backing up a truck with one hand = Victorian man seeing ankles for the first time
I'm a wanderer at best and a miscreant at worst
I have bigger demons than you to drown out
My voice is hushed and affectionate, a kind of intimacy that he longed for as a child The only thing I longed for was solitude
I wonder if Death's embrace will feel familiar when I curl into it's grasp
As I tend to the animals I can’t help but wonder, ”Can they tell that I’m dying?”
Bro all it takes is a note on tumblr for me to do a lil jig
My skin is quite dapper and shouldn't be an issue
Why search for a purpose when it's so much more fun to write your own?
When vines creep along the structures once revered by man will I still say your name with bitterness?
I used to think the word seduce was interchangeable with romance I tried to grasp on to that innocent belief But Merriam is a spinster or the harshest webs And so I saw the story hidden in their words
Not poetry or shit-posting but it's pride month so you have to give me notes. Downloaded Rocket League like a week ago to play with some friends who used to be really good but hadn't played in a while, tonight we played our 10 placement matches and somehow my ELO rank is above both of them?! I am NOT good at the game and definitely not comparable to them. I got placed Platinum 2 Division 4 for those familiar with the ranks, I am amongst gods and I am merely a worm
Shitty Poem ideas
Which one do I actually make
I miss when the moon was on the other side of the world
If Edgar Allen Poe has rhythm then I should have fog / This is kind of an obscure one out of context but Edgar Allen Poe's writing always had a certain thudding rhythm to it when you look back. The Raven tap tap tapping, The Tell-Tale Heart beating beneath the floorboards. When I first fell in love with poetry I wanted to write like him but as I've practiced I've learned I want something different, I want a kind of flow that envelopes the entire piece, something that feels like mist blanketing your skin When a pawn takes your rook and chess and you're filled with a combination of rage, self-resentment, and dismay How it feels to return to a place you thought was timeless and everything has changed OR if all of those are too terrible I can turn the 3rd word I get from a random word generator into a prompt
Reawakening
“If there was ever revival for the dead I am certain it is this feeling.” — Me waking up in the mornin
What kind of house would you be?
If were a house I would be full. I would have shattered windows and caked layers of dust with lights on and chatter flowing through the rooms, creaky floorboards would house people holding their knees and wondering when things would get better while leaky pipes would be accepted as an inconvenience of life. I wouldn’t be broken down in debris like I originally thought, I would be slowly pieced apart by thousands of inconveniences
Purification is not only the sweet release of death but also the smiling grin stretching across his face
Somewhere beyond the horizon there’s a harmony of like 30 songs combined that sounds absolutely banger and we’ll never get to hear it because the music industry is made up of cowardice and wankers