#opetry

[theglasschild]

I felt pleasantly empty, untouched by everything around me and happy to be unseen by all.

Knut Hamsun, Hunger

[finita--la--commedia]

They say there’s no justice here on earth, But there’s no justice higher up, either. To me That’s as clear and simple as do-re-mi.

Alexander Pushkin, from “Mozart And Salieri”, translated by Nancy K. Anderson “ Все говорят: нет правды на земле. Но правды нет — и выше. Для меня Так это ясно, как простая гамма. “

[finita--la--commedia]

The way to keep something is to forget it.

Jenny George, from “Mnemonic”

[jfrebe]

All of Space and Time and you're the one who makes me doubt my purpose for existing.

I've had my time feeling bad for the things I've said,

the things I've done and the person I almost became.

But what have you done but break more hearts,

and tell more lies while acting innocent?

I'm cutting the rope and hanging my former self with it,

let your tears fall like acid and set fire to this bridge between us.

All of my screams just echoed through the valley beneath us,

but never in your head. 

Why am I still here? I ask myself every day,

the space between us seems to grow as you fall,

and I could stop it and reach out.

I could. I could. I could.

I don't.

[writing-frees-you]

Poetry.

I love to write.

I love the structure.

I love that there are places, 

where things fit and belong.

I love that there are rules to follow.

But I love poetry.

Because these rules

are meant to be.

Broken.

Punctuation. Where you 

want it.

One. 

Word.

Sentences.

capitalization?

Unheard of if you do not want it.