We Bleed Ink

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[bydhiyanah-deactivated20201226]

struck.

[bydhiyanah-deactivated20201226]

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My favourite artist in the fkn world right now - no one plumbs the fathoms like DH does

[ahuntersheart]

and now you measure time by darkness and less darkness never knowing a quiet that felt still you hope for a love that will wash the blood from your mouth so you can speak of grief until it buries itself inside the folded arms of someone strong enough to carry its weight but people are not hospitals and love cannot save you

-V.M. from “Please Do Not Die On Me: A Love Letter”

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Moving on

I haven't felt like We Bleed Ink on tumblr has been a home in a while now - it is a junk hole of odds and ends and I need to reconvene. It's time for me to focus solely on the words. I'm all about the words, me.

I now have a new tumblr for my writing - called The Abdomen Notebooks -  which will be solely for words, more considered, ordered than this space has become for me.

If you give a shit I'll meet you here:

http://miggy-angel-poet.tumblr.com/

Nice talking to you, friends. Hope to see you on the other side.

ps Don't forget to buy my book when it's released, too - 'Grime Kerbstone Psalms' 

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Hurry up & find me so you can finish writing your little book of freaks

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http://bethanyroselamont.blogspot.co.uk/2012/11/flesh-is-death-of-fantasy.html

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There were no ceilings in this world until we came along

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It's not that someone turned all the lights out but that no one ever turned them on

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this is probably really dangerous but look at those pretty colours!

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Invisible Groom - Jason Shindler

  To feel the intimacy

   of my friends

      is a good thing

  as in a room

   a small bulb burning

      a little light

  -   but the tenderness

that comes from those

   I don’t know

  has become a fire

   that burns

      even after the fire

  is out.

   To anyone

      walking hurriedly by  

  without stopping

   without ever knowing

      I was there

  their not-touching

   has become the one thing

      I lie down with.

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poem called 'noose' made from 'rope' begins with the word 'goodbye' on the surface is about 'weightlessness' subtext is 'the fucking ego'

[rauanklassnik-blog]

People Mean Well —- Holy Land poem/music collaboration — histrionic version —-

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Mr Klassnik reading from Holy Land

[al-chemistry]

[howtoseewithoutacamera]

by Arthur Tress

Boot Fantasy, New York, 1979