#Thefeels

[hersurvival]

These days,

Writing is the only way

I'm allowed to bleed.

Just as screaming

At the top of my lungs

To metal on my drive

Is the only socially acceptable way

I have found to rage,

To grieve.

People hear the heavy,

Angry music

And ask, "Are you okay?"

"Yes," I think,

"I will be."

I'm trying to be.

[becomingvecna]

— David Cronenberg, Consumed

[sulfatto-deactivated20241018]

[slykwe]

nov 27 2020 worst night ever :'(

[weltenwellen]

Hanif Abdurraqib, They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us

[feral-ballad]

Rose Flint, ed. by Kate Rogers and Viki Holmes, from Not a Muse: The Inner Lives of Women: A World Poetry Anthology; "Black Wind"

[Text ID: “These are the nights when everything cages me: / your gentleness, our love, the spaces between us”]

[sulfatto-deactivated20241018]

[weltenwellen]

Kayleb Rae Candrilli, from “My partner wants me to write them a poem about Sheryl Crow"

[slykwe]

I wish my dad was here , he never made me feel stupid for asking him something i didnt know what to do , he understood i needed to be shown in order to learn . he knew i was different

[hobbitsetal]

online friends

“my friend the electrical engineer,” i say, or of someone else: “my friend the Canadian,” “my friend in Denver.” and i am down south, states and miles away.

“how did you meet?” they ask, puzzled by how far-flung my friendships. “the internet,” i say, a little proud, a little defensive because the next words are inevitable.

they always ask with a mix of amusement and horror. always. “have you met in person? no? how can you be sure it’s not an old pervert in his mother’s basement, a serial killer on the prowl?”

how can we be sure of anyone? the man who married a pastor’s daughter, then shot his pregnant wife in the back of the head–they thought they knew him. but these anonymous souls: they’re my friends.

we talk of books and ideas, family and differences in where we live and why we do what we do, and trade stupid jokes like candy, sweet and inclusive and joyful. my friends. my soul friends, who i meet on the internet.

friendships are not born of handshakes. they’re born of shared things and shared interests and sometimes just because you’re human and i’m human, and that praise God is enough. even over the internet, that is enough.

[alex-a-roman]

Your touch is poison We're walking on tainted ground I'm fading and you love it I want to disappear Awaken what's inside Your name is venom It won't kill me But it festers You will be begging for a saviour Next time you take a bite.

~ A. A. Roman

[alex-a-roman]

Your touch is poison We're walking on tainted ground I'm fading and you love it I want to disappear Awaken what's inside Your name is venom It won't kill me But it festers You will be begging for a saviour Next time you take a bite.

~ A. A. Roman

[nothingatallinthenight]

It’s noon but with the way the sky’s been, you wouldn’t know; cloudy all day, all night— all year— and he’s sitting across from me, two hours ago, and he’s telling me all these things, smiling, showing me his sketches, I’m dying on the inside and I’m seeing all the things I did wrong, all the right things I didn’t come close to doing, right there in the room with us:

we’re sitting by a window looking out into the street, and you wouldn’t guess that it’s April, but it is: and he gets up and says goodbye politely and I say goodbye politely, too, and then the world ends a little more & that’s that:

the hustle & bustle prior to us talking continues, has continued, is going to continue

[theblvckcool]

[difficult]

[slykwe]

#beautiful #waasnoode-kwe

[shithappensmoveon-blog]

[shithappensmoveon-blog]