In The Silence

If you storm off, you better bring the flood.

Makes a cathedral, him pressing against
me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe
his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me
like stars.
Richard Siken, excerpt of Saying Your Names  (via 5000letters)
Perhaps we’re not magic anymore. Perhaps we’re just comfortable. We just know our way around one another. We know which wounds to cauterize and which to let bleed.
Donna-Marie Riley (via five—a—day)

What if love is made and nothing else?
asked Narcissus, leaning over the green iris of water.

Nothing else,
cried Echo from the green cochlea of the woods.

And they were both right.
And they were both lonely.

Kapka Kassabova, “And they were both right” (via rabbitinthemoon)

Revolution
is not pretty

but I don’t care
about looks.
Set the dumpster

on fire. Break
the windows.
Don’t kiss me

like they do
in the movies.
Kiss me

like they do
on the emergency
broadcast system.

Daphne Gottlieb (via kdecember)
The complexities of adult life get in the way of the truth. The great philosophers have always been able to clear away the complexities and see simple distinctions - simple once they are stated, vastly difficult before. If we are to follow them we too must be childishly simple in our questions - and maturely wise in our replies.
Mortimer J. Adler (via observando)

The gun is a little awkward. Revolves on words. And their ‘jokes’ won’t let you move onward. So, you pray that the lies stop sounding true. But, they are hounding you at the temple, run. iPhone for help but only get voicemail. Shrugged off and told, “You have too soft a voice, male.” BANG. They demand that you speak up. But, only in the ways they want to hear. Trying to brain’wash’ you so your meaning is clear. They’ll put words in your mouth and call it acci-dental. Cock back and blast your dreams. It’s lucky that confidence was a rental. Even girls say that my concerns make me menstrual. BANG. Who isn’t against you? Avoid people in favor of the thoughts I’m always typing up. When I’m out I always hear jokes about being black. Then asked to ‘lighten up.’ Music is treating us like Mike Brown, mentally getting gunned down while our hands are up. BANG. When did change become so cancerous? “It was only a joke. So, you can’t be crushed.” I’m still being pun-ished. BANG These things made to keep distance. Maybe they think they can keep it innocent if it never gets intimate. If life is a test, then I’m ready to finish it. I can’t deal with lessons made to lessen us. The amount of time spent feeling down is catching up. Whether it is race, taste, or sex I am the usual suspect. Roll their eyes and ask you to kill it anytime you b-roach the subject. Which is why I spent my whole afternoon hiding one lotus. Anything that open gets pulled from the ground as soon as it’s noticed.

Puff

dearoldlove:

I started smoking cigarettes to develop a healthier addiction than you.

Sides

dearoldlove:

I let him sleep on my side of the bed. Just so he wouldn’t sleep on yours.

tinder is the night

dearoldlove:

I saw your profile on tinder, swiped you to the left and laughed my head off. Until I realized that I, too, am on tinder. Damn.

They say snobbery is a form of despair. So, I know you looked down on us because you saw frowns come up. And levees were an occasion that you rose to. And our pain drove you to relate. You opened your mouth to release. We opened ours to scream, because we couldn’t escape.

Revolution
is not pretty

but I don’t care
about looks.
Set the dumpster

on fire. Break
the windows.
Don’t kiss me

like they do
in the movies.
Kiss me

like they do
on the emergency
broadcast system.

Daphne Gottlieb (via kdecember)

You remember too much,

my mother said to me recently.

Why hold onto all that?

And I said,

Where do I put it down?

Anne Carson, from “The Glass Essay” (via vrban)
vacants:

(by cody rocko)
Why didn’t I learn to treat everything like it was the last time. My greatest regret was how much I believed in the future.
Jonathan Safran Foer (via observando)