soleil vert

look at this tangle of thorns

[yesterdaysprint]

St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Missouri, November 23, 1910

[typewriterblues]

mistake

[visual-poetry]

from the series »thoughts on romance from the road« by victoria crayhon

[buttonpoetry]

I just loved someone yesterday. so you see the dilemma. I just promised someone that I would watch them grow old in a country that wants them dead.

Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib, The Crown Ain’t Worth Much

(via buttonpoetry)

[whoisshe777]

Tenari Ioapo // Apology to the love of my life #3.

[wnq-movies]

When you are young, you believe there’ll be many people you’ll connect with. Later in life, you realize it only happens a few times.

Before Sunset (2004), Dir. Richard Linklater (via landscape-photo-graphy)

[fuckyeahmrleonardcohen]

Do not be afraid to be weak. Do not be ashamed to be tired. You look good when you’re tired. You look like you could go on forever.

Leonard Cohen, “How to Speak Poetry”  (via weltenwellen)

[birdasaurus]

Katch Silva

[soleil-vert]

what do you think about when you think about me?

[shefoundherselfsomehow]

I think we were meant to be but we did it wrong.

12 word story (via shefoundherselfsomehow)

[kloxical]

[hipeponymous-blog]

Visit Original Link

“Fiddler’s Green” by The Tragically Hip (Words/Music: The Tragically Hip, Album: Road Apples, MCA 1991)

September 17, for a girl I know it’s mother’s day

[soleil-vert]

[h85sos4ever-blog]

Visit Original Link

[soleil-vert]

Burn, Ray LaMontagne

[nevver]

Sundays are the worst

[yourcoldclay-deactivated2018012]

I decided, enough pain….I was not the woman who breaks into pieces under the blows of abandonment and absence, who goes mad, who dies. Only a few fragments had splintered off, for the rest I was well. I was whole, whole I would remain. To those who hurt me, I react giving back in kind. I am the queen of spades, I am the wasp that stings, I am the dark serpent. I am the invulnerable animal who passes through fire and is not burned.

Elena Ferrante, The Days of Abandonment (via yourcoldclay)

[soleil-vert]

"It never really ends well, does it?" "What?" "Love."