Claire Keane
ojovivo
RMH
DEAR READER
KIROKAZE
cherry valley forever
Show & Tell
Misplaced Lens Cap
Sweet Seals For You, Always
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Andulka
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Three Goblin Art
Origami Around
Sade Olutola
Janaina Medeiros
we're not kids anymore.
No title available
#extradirty
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@thecuriousunfamiliar
Tw: flash
Today I forget how I forgot to be me.
I change the course, I change the fee.
The cost and the weight to simply just be.
Not shaken. Not stirred. Just rudimentary.
...
I will write again. I will create again. I will learn again. To be me.
Now Where?
i feel hapless. Unsettled. Unfettered. Undefined.
Twine without thread. Sea without salt. And the sheer lack of multidimensionality when you’re a shapeless, faceless, placeless being.
Thicker than blackness. Deeper and darker it grows, continuing to consume gravity and forever abstract the fabric of time.
Find me on the event horizon of the rest of all and nothing.
Remember when we? When we would look at the light together and just fall so madly in love over and over again? Remember when we were a we and when I just loved you so so deeply?
I do. When the sun hits that special spot in the day that always reminds me of you. Being here. Next to me. With me. Being us.
Only haze lives in the skies these days. The haziness of longing.
This is a poem not about love…
Footprints. Tiny footprints. Treading lightly through the sand. Little bits of almost glass carry weight of what I am. Not so distant tides caress the shore that hugs the sea. Bright blue skies reflect in eyes, also blue who, belong to me. Waves crash beneath my ribcage, currents flow around my heart. Ships sail on my soul by the wind these currents start. I long to see the waters of a world so vast and new. I long to hear the music from ten-thousand leagues below the blue. Simple logic states that white caps go back to kiss the shore… So this implies these salty eyes are seeking something bigger than before. And I’m just some wayward wanderer, writing the maps that my spirit will explore.
| ✨One of my best✨
The Rain Never Came
Broke apart that cold receiver. Old secrets slipping through the slots of a lost transceiver. Making sense of such a heavy breather broke the bent-over back of the silent seeker.
Once she fell ill so did your demeanor. Your bitter bones bruised deep beneath her. How could a bastard like you feasibly relieve her? An impossible feat for one who can’t even perceive her.
Your father said it best. You’re nothing more than a coward too unfit to be a leader.
Then came that same time each night, when you’d ramble some prose you chose to recite of all the moments you expended wasting chasing her light. Her permeated presence was enough to ignite,
Some fire inside you that you kept wild, resenting her rejection and the fictitious affection you’ve chased since you were a child.
Still shivering from the scarlet fever, you forced her fragile face into the freezer. To ease her aches fell beyond your leisure as you watched her struggle through another seizure. You swear on your mother you never meant to deceive her. Pretentiously preaching about how she is the grass people promise is greener.
Finding peace in the fact that losing her also meant that you’d have to grieve her.
You never truly cared for the girl once she neglected your features. She made you feel vulnerable and hopelessly meager. Drove you to the point where you basically beat her. Ignored her pleas when you were lost how to treat her. Never hearing her weep in the night cause you’re such a heavy sleeper and every time she’d beg you to free her, you’d say you couldn’t hear her as you turned up the speakers.
It’s not like any other soul even offered to keep her. Shunned her away like some horrible creature. She became more of a wreck with each day she grew weaker and before her death, she detached as she fell dizzyingly deeper.
They mocked the poor girl, called her cruel and twisted. Always whisperin’ ‘bout how she would pray for a new life and constantly insisted, no, pathetically persisted that this was the best way. Standing frigid and ironfisted. Onlookers gossiped, claimed that’s what happens to folks who run away from routine the quickest. They get destroyed by sadness and devoured by sickness.
Oh, the way that man’s evolved into a species so disconnected and wicked.
And wicked you are. Morally sick. Shaking your head while you dig a 6-foot deep pit…
Bury her with weathered dirt that cuts up your hands as you dig it up from the earth. Bury her with the false promises and lost words that never carried much worth. Even your make-believe sadness is met with caution as your forced tears fall upon her make-shift coffin. Don’t forget to remind her how it was actually you who was wronged when she was vacant so often and then died before the two of you could even give birth to a child who would only make this nightmare despairingly worse.
And before you give your bullshit goodbye, tell her one last bullshit lie about how life is a bitch no matter how hard you try to make it work.
I’m glad for what keeps me afloat By Jessica Neuwerth
Wherever you are, be all there.
Jim Elliot (via quotemadness)
Remembering you feels so convalescent...
As if you were tickling the surface of my brain. A brain that has no feeling.
You pricked the places that fell dormant and I held you in adornment, and where you can still stray to or stay for as long as you please. Just squeeze me. I’m reeling.
Take your lips off the back of my spine. Do no harm. Quit brushing my shivers with the soft hairs standing tall on your arms. Fall in line. Lover whose love was never mine. Because you remembered me. Back on that day we fell deep into it. Like happening upon a brand new sort of gospel, one true and free from the wars of the hostel. Do you ever remember us as we were in that time? Well, you know... before all this fate became led by the blind.
You are just so sweet my honey, my boy, my bumbling best friend of the past. Please, just beg on your knees with me for this to last. All I need is your charm. Your character. Your class. One more brief splitting second of our crime. Come back and visit me offline. In the blissful attic of nostalgia tucked way back in my mind. Won’t you be wise? Come altruistic, no disguise. I’ll be shimmering somewhere subtle, waiting to catch your breath with my eyes.
new moon
visualldreams
Feeling your body flying in the water By Tina Sosna
Liana Rakijian
