She Fell in Love with Melancholy

laziest poet alive. Poetry, creative writing, quotes and general ramblings found here

[moonkissedletters]

If you love someone, you should be willing to show it.

- Lauren Myracle//Let it Snow

[two-bees-poetry]

so soft it hurts

[christianrichardrice]

Lake Mackenzie, New Zealand, 1979.

[elycwinters]

spring shower

It's four a.m. and the world is dark, chilly spring air that dips colder as sudden black clouds roll in.

And without warning, rain falls - hard and fast, cleansing the still dark world before the sun rises.

It last for a while. The world filled with water sounds as it hits concrete and glass, growing colder by the second.

And then, it stops. The air fresh and clean, still dark, no sun on the horizon yet - but as the spring shower leaves, the world knows peace.

~ Ely C. Winters.

[elycwinters]

dancer

She dances to music only she can hear, footsteps so light, they barely make a sound. She dances alone, eyes closed, pretending that death's cold embrace has not touched her (It has, her body rest six feet under, flowers blooming upon her mortal remains. She's dead and gone.) as the moonlight shimmers through her.

~ Ely C. Winters.

[petaltexturedskies]

Anna Akhmatova, from The Akhmatova Journals, Vol. I: 1938-1941

[jerseyclown]

countdown to geography of wounds

from W-A-N-T by k.c cramm

[nevver]

[nevver]

Too dead to die, Jocelin Carmes

[drunkengodofslaughter]

there are times when my longing for you overwhelms me, so often i can think of you only with teeth clenched.

[mournfulroses]

Anton Chekhov, from The Complete Plays of Anton Chekhov; "Ivanoff,"

[petaltexturedskies]

Emily Dickinson, from a letter to an unknown recipient wr. c. 1862

[nevver]

Cool hang, Aron Wiesenfeld (print sale)

[nevver]

Some girls, Vanessa Raw

[geryone]

I Will Destroy You, Nick Flynn

[latibule-e-deactivated20231012]

[Text ID: It was always October in my throat.]

— Ocean Vuong, from “To My Father, To My Unborn Son.”

[nevver]

Just one of those nights, Flóra Anna Buda

[latibule-e-deactivated20231012]

[Text ID: Yours, yours. I was painted for you.]

— Donna Tartt, from “The goldfinch.”