all I do is kiss you through the bars of a rhyme

My word collection

[miamaimania]

“Cut the Rug (Cake)” ☀ Alana Jones-Mann ◇ Sponge cake with a 400-thread count

[fairycosmos]

they need to make healthy coke for me personally. i deserve this

[afloweroutofstone]

[katlovesshrimps]

does anyone have that tweet that's like "talking to the ace hardware employee: gonna remodel an old brownstone by myself can I get the fisher price tool kit and stupid white paint"

[twincanine]

[katlovesshrimps]

THATS EXACTLY IT THANK YOU SO MUCH

[versaversa]

[kosmogrl]

[rubypomegranates]

“The beauty and mystery of this world only emerges through affection, attention, interest and compassion... open your eyes wide and actually see this world by attending to its colors, details and irony.”

Orhan Pamuk “My Name Is Red”

[feral-ballad]

Kapka Kassabova, from Someone Else’s Life; “How to survive in the desert”

[petaltexturedskies]

L.M. Montgomery, The Blue Castle

[metamorphesque]

the unbearable heaviness of girlhood / Su Xinyu / Lucie Brock-Broido

[mournfulroses]

Trista Mateer, from a poem featured in her collection titled The Dogs I Have Kissed

[feral-ballad]

Courtney Marie Andrews, from Old Monarch: Poems; “Watercolor”

[Text ID: “If I were a paint, I’d be a watercolor. / Indecisive and hard to control, / no one wants to handle watercolors / unless they are brave, patient, or mad.”]

[cersplace]

─ Hisham Siddiqi

[metamorphesque]

   Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, 21 July 1882

[text ID: Though I am often in the depths of misery, there is still calmness, pure harmony and music inside me.]

[arifables]

“I was looking for a love unlike my parents’ love or my sister’s love or the love on a foreign kitchen floor. I wanted my own kitchen to keep clean and full of bread and milk and hot sauce and a big clean empty sink where I could wash my dishes. I wanted to forgive my mother and father for their misery and find myself a light man who lived buoyantly and to be both his light and his dark, serious baby.”

— Rebecca Dinerstein, The Sunlit Night (via fragmentarie)

[hungryfictions]

[shisasan]

January 27, 1924 Journals of Anais Nin 1923-1927 [volume 3]