February 2012
62 posts
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I once knew a girl named R who wore a faded jean jacket. I only remember her ever eating fruits and she told me her secret was an addiction to books. That a night couldn’t end until she fell between inked words on a page. She was little and possessed a scorching spark in her eye that reflected her spanish great grandmother (she kept an old faded photographer of her in her jacket, I...
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The Way Things Are by Fiona Apple
Anonymous asked: I'm so disappointed you have no morals. Drugs will kill you and are a serious way to harm yourself, yet here you are making jokes about them and acting like they are no big deal. Your just a stupid hipsters who think its cool to take drugs. I feel so sorry for you.
Anonymous asked: Care to share which kinds of drugs?
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everything smells like peppermint
and there is a big fat green lizard hiding under my bed
my needs are tangled in his big fat green tail
last night my hair caught on fire
buzzed up curls
you’re on the floor
but feeling 20 feet high
it’s nothing but an 8th floor catastrophe really
silver filaments
and bending liberty
lies caught the moon off guard tonight
while the only words...
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Hotel by Tori Amos
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“Yes, my consuming desire is to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers,...”
– Sylvia Plath
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Blue by Joni Mitchell
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“Do you remember ever playing with a prism? Every time you hold it differently in...”
– Tori Amos
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ever since icarus fell
i’ve kept the metaphor under my bed
in case.
it is useful for days when leaves go dry from northern winds
and great queens fall on their heads (always upside down)
today is one of those days
because language walked out the door a week and a half ago
we argued over his irregular past participle status
and now i fear he will not return
and will choose to melt...
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“When you sleep horses break from the night
upon your flat breast, and the...”
– from Funeral March by Jean Genet
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Mother bought me tulips for Valentine’s day but they have already wilted from the icy sadness that tangled their blooms this morning.
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I think it is because we all tread on feeble tight ropes made of silken threads and our unsteady hearts lead me to be far too nice to people. But yet I always leave some empty hole, somewhere. I fear people completely misunderstand the state I’m in, I fear they misunderstand completely what I am. I suppose, I long too much to make centaurs smile and find friendly shadows in the eyes of...
theunabridgedjournal asked: Hello dear. What are your feelings toward the day?
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Today is day two of the horrible food poisoning I have received from going out for fish and chips. I have not been this sick for years, I can hardly move.
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I was raised in checkered silence
in the cool nursery of the young century.
Human voices did not touch me,
it was the wind whose voice I heard.
I favored burdocks and nettles,
but dearest to me was the silver willow,
my long companion through the years, ...
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“She seemed to be near him in the darkness. At moments he seemed to feel her...”
– from Dubliners by James Joyce