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Text Post Mon, Apr. 21, 2014 18 notes

Silent Fall

essemmar:

Occasionally
I feel
my heart
plummet
to
great depths
      inbetween
the verse
the lines
the words
I read
      inbetween
each sentence
each breath
each syllable
I hear

My heart
plummets
      between
all I know
and all
I can not say

(via thewriteofi)






Text Post Fri, Apr. 18, 2014 6 notes

outofherhead:

listless — alive
past all that
begging for more,
going back in time
rushing forward,
coming to terms
you’ll never learn.
loving — hating
lusting — loathing
bathing in light
hidden in darkness,
pitch perfect
a fucking mess.
giver — taker
candlestick maker.
lover — hater
breath taker.
alive — listless
survive — survive. 







Text Post Fri, Apr. 18, 2014 22 notes

illusions-of-allusions:

she was dressed
in dead branches
with crippled roots
barren of life
skin pale white
haunting me
she sung with
echoing lament
beautiful and soft
bringing me closer
to her ethereal touch
begging me
to drown in her
melancholic
and void






Quote Post Fri, Apr. 18, 2014 21 notes

“You can’t have it both ways
Straddling a bridge is impossible for long,
mortar shifts and bridges fall
And the tastes of salt water and chocolate will make any one ill
Let one foot slide to safety and choose
Every moment we lose I fire futures by simply existing
And mourning for them all erases he one we still have”


intrinsichumanity (via intrinsichumanity)

(via lzlabseesu)





Link Post Fri, Apr. 18, 2014 7 notes

gifted child

thecrazycorgilady:

gifted? is that what they call it?
it is both a blessing and a curse.
to be intelligent and separated
or to go along with the boorish mob;
I could not tell you which is worse.
from the moment of my birth,
lifted head and curious eyes -
strong, beyond the normal,
always searching for the…




Text Post Fri, Apr. 18, 2014 16 notes

Carving A Crucifix In The Dead

ionofalion:

a sudden shiver
iced bath water
killed the father
wearing priestly robes

telling the children
to take off their clothes

when the devil’s bidding is left in the palms of man, he’ll often grip so tightly & break
his hands.

preacher, I’m now your teacher
let the blood flow
let it show the truth
innocence stole from youth

abusing knowledge for pour
words that left my mouth sour






Photo Post Fri, Apr. 18, 2014 232 notes

punkrot143-ryan-miller:

his
sick,
ill thoughts
had become
cyclical;
a rushing carousel 
of churning hell,
spinning 
to the melodies
of his ego-centered 
maladies.
he knew the path.
he knew better.
he could do the math.
yet, 
he’d fallen in love 
with the mistress of 
attachment 
and 
couldn’t 
forget
her.
yet,
perpetually 
waiting 
was his 
constant,
karmic  
companion
—mind’s catalyst.
his atman.
yes,
a transcending ego slayer
tempting
him 
to delve into 
a 
spiritual 
chrysalis. 
to search for all bliss.
to leap into 
a well of 
‘no self’
where he could
finally love entirely 
and 
know self.

-me

punkrot143-ryan-miller:

his
sick,
ill thoughts
had become
cyclical;
a rushing carousel
of churning hell,
spinning
to the melodies
of his ego-centered
maladies.
he knew the path.
he knew better.
he could do the math.
yet,
he’d fallen in love
with the mistress of
attachment
and
couldn’t
forget
her.
yet,
perpetually
waiting
was his
constant,
karmic
companion
—mind’s catalyst.
his atman.
yes,
a transcending ego slayer
tempting
him
to delve into
a
spiritual
chrysalis.
to search for all bliss.
to leap into
a well of
‘no self’
where he could
finally love entirely
and
know self.

-me

(via my-randomly-erratic-thoughts)




Text Post Fri, Apr. 18, 2014 39 notes

problem-with-average:

She has cobwebs settled between 
her ribs and her heart is a halfway house
for ghosts. Her bones ache from the grip
of long, forgotten demons and her lungs
hide monsters inside. Dying vines hanging
with carcasses of butterflies(that tried to escape)
wrapped around her veins, hoping to feed off of her
radiant skin, but death doesn’t shine.
Not even in haunted houses. 






Text Post Fri, Apr. 18, 2014 140 notes

She Comes To Me

dontcryitsonlymike:

She comes to me in solitude
smiling
as if to say she understands 
my heart must yet remember
myriad lovers o’er a millennia 
and yet
she patiently waits for my return
one day I must go home to her
that my feet may walk again
upon her warm and healing sand
to make love to her upon her shore
then that our loneliness might end
into her softness I’ll dive in
and we’ll be one forever more

(via mikefrawley)






Quote Post Fri, Apr. 18, 2014 1,122 notes

I was told the girl of my dreams
would have stars in her eyes
and when I looked,
I would see her soul
mirrored in a thousand suns radiating light.

I am so glad they were wrong.
I’ve been burning for so long
that I don’t need more fire.
I need the ocean. I need the waves.
I need the blue bliss
and currents pulling me into forever.
I am so glad that your eyes quench me, devour me,
swallow me whole and spit me out,
Wet and salty,
a happy man that will live
a few years longer.

But I won’t tell you this.
Because you don’t know how long I’ve been burning
and I don’t know if you’d want to let me swim in you forever.
I’ll just say you are beautiful
and your eyes sparkle oh such a majestic blue
because you deserve everything
and I don’t know if that’s me.


Elzaro25th December 2013

(via elzaro)

(via elzaro)





Text Post Fri, Apr. 18, 2014 43 notes

problem-with-average:

I ripped out my organs 
at a very young age and he’s called me devil
child since then, but he doesn’t see 
the dirt under his nails and I’m ok with that.

I spilled ink on blank canvases to breathe
but black ink leaves irremovable stains and I
was keeping the perfect picture from being painted.

So I stuffed words inside my chest and let the waves
carry them to the end of the sea, where hopefully 
somebody sees them as a treasure someday.

And till then I will read what I want to say
in somebody else.






Text Post Fri, Apr. 18, 2014 9 notes

When Touch Is Your Love Language

shespeaksyvon:

My soul is starved for affection.
Loose skin hangs from its frail bones,
and the nourishment
of gentle kisses and warm hugs
does not come to ease
the familiar hunger pangs
that linger like weeds when
the farmer no longer sees the worth
of his over-sown earth.
I have been harvested one too many times.
I am land untended, left alone.
Soon, I shall become dust.
Perhaps then the wind will take me.






Link Post Fri, Apr. 18, 2014 43 notes

Glow Worms

curvypervyme:

Take a blanket
Lay it out under the stars,
Anywhere with you tonight.
I close my eyes and imagine
You and I ,
Speaking poetry
With no words
And writing music
With no lyrics
Just keeping warm
With no clothes on
But skin on skin
Glistening and glowing
From the moonlight




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