March 2011
78 posts
I wish I had beautiful piercing blue eyes.
It’s the little things that keep me tugging on your sleeve. The things that hold me close and push me far into the sea. It’s the little things that are all coiled up and pushed into your pupils that keep me coming back for more. For more and more.
I am part of a dying breed.
I really don’t think you know a single thing about love. But what makes me a good source of knowledge on the topic? All I know is I’ve felt it, I feel it; and it deserves more than you give it.
I want to make cupcakes while watching french films. Someone do this with me.
My theory: I’m still sticking to it.
I have hope in it always being right because it never once was wrong.
Mister Mouth by Matmos
I want it to embrace me, consume me. (Drive me wild.) I want it to be on fire, I want it to be passionate. And I want it to stay.
The amount of anxiety that fills me right now is absurd. I am who I am. I like what I like. I believe what I believe. And I cannot put that aside for anyone.
Listen
Alexa Her pupils; doors of effervescent hope. Wide-eyed; fastened to his lips, lips coarse with words and names. Hers pursed, quivering in rhythm. Soaking in his syllables; she sats still.
Dear Men of America, Just because I am wearing four inch heels does not give you permission to honk your horn at me and/or yell obscene phrases out of your windows at me. I am a woman and sometime women wear heels. Get over it or get used to it. Thank you. Sincerely, T. Hunter
The lovers in love at the end of the day will bask in the glory of my lonely hands.
It’s like the heaviest eyes the world has ever known, looking at you from across the room. You feel the weight.
Eet by Regina Spektor
Her face was a map. He traced his fingers along it softly. Memorizing, hoping he wouldn’t lose his way, or forget.
I’ve decided that I need to open myself up and be more observant. I’d say compared to the general population, I am quite observant. But I need to open up more. I can’t just look at something and take it for what it is. I need to really look at it, right through it and feel it. Lately, I’ve allowed myself to do just that and I have been able to see things in new light with...
Last night, I awoke frantically at 3 a.m. and wrote down “josephine”. huh?
T: Why is it that the right thing always ends up being the hardest to do?
E: 'Cause if there is a god, a woman hurt him very badly and he's punishing us for it.
There are sails in the distance, on the horizon. I squint my eyes to see their beauty.
Your palms. I curled into myself. And your palms were against mine. The sun leaked; falling down onto my small shapely face. Your palms. The lines of love, the lines of sorrow. I did not know how to balance them both. But the sun, it still leaked down onto my face. Warming my every thought, my every action. And your palms, we’re all I thought of.
First salt and pepper shakers, now the ticking of the clock. What is going on?
Her wits, moments echoed. Eyes closed firmly, as if her eyelashes were making love. Stiff in her driveway. Delicate hands still gripping the wheel, her forehead leaning against it. It felt like the end, but not the end of it all. A dim light scraped the back of her thoughts. —Are we really here?
I had a dream, a dream that filled me, filled me to the brim. A brim that wasn’t always relevant. But this time it was. I had a dream that had hands in it. Hands that held me and let me go. All I could see were these hands, all I could feel were these hands. I believe these hands were yours.
a wise woman recently told me that at times like this i should snuggle a kitten.
someone bring me a kitten.
Those lips. Those lips. Toes, hips. Ten, ships. Those lips.
“You don’t need water to feel like you’re drowning do you?”
– Jodi Picoult - Nineteen Minutes
your, you’re.—their, they’re, there.—to, too. affect, effect.—then, than.
Guys, come on.
Pulled in— —dragged in. By the ends of my toes. A noise I cannot ignore.
She wanted to write about every movement of his hands, the small cuts on his fingers. She wanted to point out the way he licked his lips when he looked at her face, his kind eyes that held an aggression that took her every ounce of strength not to approach. She wanted to write about him. But her pen and paper lay hidden in her purse to her left. The words were not written down, but they were still...
My eyes hold more light in them when they are facing you.
Tonight I felt/feel the loneliest I have in a long while.
Justified, yes. Easier, no. Doors opened, perhaps.
I’ve never asked for words. The small treasures that sink or swim. I’ve never asked for eyes. The anchors that weigh down my thoughts. I’ve never asked for hands. The sails that coast across my humble sides. But I will ask for a ship, one that will hold my words, my eyes, my hands. And I will ask for you to accompany me.
You were in my dream last night and so was he and so was she and it was terrible.
Black holes; a gravity field. Let’s pull it in —pull it in. Collapsed strands of light. For your viewing pleasure.
I woke up to sadness sweeping into me and through me. Infecting and deteriorating. I curled my arms around myself and shut my eyes. Tell me nothing, everything, just tell me it all.
