Let the poets cry themselves to sleep.

[reigning-in-hell]

You know it’s got bad:

you've stayed up all night so you

don’t go to bed sad.

[reigning-in-hell]

A boy I once thought would love me Until Earth crumbled to the sea Looked the other way, To my dismay, And said "lim'ricks must be funny".

[reigning-in-hell]

The idea of loosing you makes me sick to the core,

But then the thought of you staying makes it worse than before.

[reigning-in-hell]

I didn't like how she looked at me.

Her smug smile and slanted eyes told the world that she knew everything there was to know about me;

That I had nothing left to offer her because she'd already had it all.

Her condescending glance that reeked of insincere condolence: Sorry I exhausted you. Sorry I used you up. Sorry I'm worth much more now than you will ever be.

Her entire demeanor left me feeling  deflated and insecure.

And yet, as she strutted away - as I evaluated the ladder in her tights that she probably hadn't even noticed yet and admired the way her hips swayed - I found I was smiling. 

Smiling uncontrollably in fact.

And smiling became laughing.

Laughing broke down in to hysterics, and suddenly I was crying with sheer joy.

I felt I had won. For there she was, the creme de la creme, walking in the opposite direction, so sure she had drained me of everything of value. And here I was, stood on a street corner, tears in my eyes. 

Safe in the knowledge that I had so much more to give, and that she would never even know that.

[explore-blog]

Ever finished a book? I mean, truly finished one? Cover to cover. Closed the spine with that slow awakening that comes with reentering consciousness? You take a breath, deep from the bottom of your lungs and sit there. Book in both hands, your head staring down at the cover, back page or wall in front of you. You’re grateful, thoughtful, pensive. You feel like a piece of you was just gained and lost. You’ve just experienced something deep, something intimate… Full from the experience, the connection, the richness that comes after digesting another soul. […] It’s no surprise that readers are better people. Having experienced someone else’s life through abstract eyes, they’ve learned what it’s like to leave their bodies and see the world through other frames of reference. They have access to hundreds of souls, and the collected wisdom of all them.

Beautiful read on why readers are, “scientifically,” the best people to date. 

Perhaps Kafka’s timeless contention that books are "the axe for the frozen sea inside us" applies equally to the frozen sea between us. 

(via explore-blog)

[reigning-in-hell]

The scratches you left on my back got infected. I sometimes wonder what hurts the most; The pain Or remembering how good it felt at the time.

[reigning-in-hell]

You may as well

Slit my wrists 

And drink your fill.

That's all I've got left to give you.

[reigning-in-hell]

I know what Lana meant when She sang of 'summertime sadness'. There's something incredibly fucking depressing About nights that don't last as long as your heartache.

[reigning-in-hell]

Oasis.

There was only so long she could rehydrate herself with the dew drops on her lashes and the rivers on her cheeks.

[reigning-in-hell]

Irony.

(noun) def:

The fact those who have never felt 'love'

Are often more romantic

Than those who feel

It on a daily

Basis.

[reigning-in-hell]

When sadness came

We glugged Purple Rain

To drown the shame

And purge the pain.

[reigning-in-hell]

Songs end.

Cigarettes burn out.

Love dies.

And life goes on.

[reigning-in-hell]

When Shakespeare wrote that

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of may,

He forgot to mention they were ripped out

Root and stem.

[reigning-in-hell]

Optimism is believing it will turn out for the best.

Pessimism is believing it will turn out for the worst.

Realism is recognizing  that either is possible.

Pragmatism (often confused with optimism) is recognizing that either is possible, but understanding it is better to hope for the best.

[reigning-in-hell]

The moment she left,

As moments go,

Was only the second worst.

The moment she arrived,

On the other hand,

Is undoubtedly the first. 

[reigning-in-hell]

So I found a few poems in a note pad that I don't remember writing. They must be really old. And they're quite shit. I probably wrote them in year ten or something? I might post some that I like... If I can find any!

[reigning-in-hell]

Fill your mind With things sublime. Make your face The picture of grace. Hold your head high, Never cry,

And lock your heart away in the darkest place.