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| of an old man and his fucking perfect tree. R.I.P. Mr. Reynolds (i know you hated me but i wish i'd told you i cared.) (but life is full of regrets) (i think i will regret it anyway) |
the logic "you look so beautiful when you cry." he says,the logic by ~CatchingWind
"i should make you more often."
and i am blindand i am blind by ~CatchingWind
there was a time when your hands
would slip above my belly button with
careful, precise actions-
as if a sudden movement would shock
me back to reality.
and i could intertwine our fingers, and
promise you such a thing would
never happen- that
where else would i find someone as perfect as you?-
nervous laughs invite the idea that the
unknown is waiting-
watching-
and i am naive, young, and pure-
until a night i wait for you,
wait for glass to pierce your eyes
and harsh hands that fit into
finger-printed shades of violet-
apologies are nothing,
darling- all the hurt in the world
could not make my love any less.
Beautiful books He remembers me, oh yes- he does. He acknowledges my presence in the musty scent of his untouched library, the yellowing pages of Jane Eyre and To Kill A Mockingbird encrusted with pieces of my soul. The carpet reeks of naughty, naughty, dirty things- but those are stories for another day. I must tell you of his books.Beautiful books by ~CatchingWind
He had beautiful books. Layer upon layer of hidden temples and fortune-telling monkeys, hopeless romantic and nonfiction for those iron-bound to the present. Oh, how we danced in those days- dipping over tables, knocking over lamps- but we remained on the surface, touching all skin and no soul. Years passed and the musty scent
a thousand more walls so i spent a year and a half breaking down tougha thousand more walls by ~CatchingWind
layers of your soul til i reached the very tiny,
somehow very important, part of your heart that glowed
through your eyes.
they sparkled that day. guys always tell me that eyes don't
sparkle or do anything special it's just romance-
obsessed girls imagine they do, but i swear, it was like
looking at a night sky on a cruise or somewhere else,
lonely, faraway and isolated.
they don't sparkle now, as the right half of my face turns
violently red. it doesn't register, really, what happened. you
are curled up into a ball, the little fetal position people take
on when they think they're g
| life is bits and pieces and this is mine. it involves bad fudge cake and blind fish, roses in disguise, and promises that were as real as unicorns. whispers spoken in the dead of the night, screeches of a street alley cat and liquid that burns as it goes down your throat. knives and axes and men dressed in black. it involves all these horrors, and more, yes. but it is also my happiness. life is bits and pieces and this is mine. it involves pumpkin pie and whipped cream, weeds that turned out to be roses and friends that lasted forever. promises spoken under the influence but kept for the rest of eternity. the cry of newborn babies and fruit loops. princesses and fairy tales and playgrounds where we once played hide-and-seek. it involves all these joys, and more, yes. but this is my story. what is yours? |
The reason whyThe reason why by ~MessyMistakes
She fell in love with him for the same
reason that the sky above your head is blue and that
the grass beneath your feet is green and how everyone
knows that bubbles are too fragile to catch.
She fell in love with him for reasons that she will
never really know the answers to.
He made love to her for the same
reason that boys pee standing up and that the telephone
was invented and that man decided he wanted to walk
on the moon.
He made love to her because he knew he could.
She lied to him for the same
reason that mothers tell their children that Santa Claus
and the Tooth Fairy are real and that if you don't eat
all your
on puppy love telling secrets and white lies in your treehouseon puppy love by =meganbreukelman
in the heart of our young summers.
watching sprinklers spin like falling diamonds
the heat of july sun beating down
on our fragile new skin.
feet dangling from swingsets
trying to reach the ground
(but coming nowhere close.)
and you told me to go home
because michael was coming over
and you didn't want him to think
i was your "girlfriend."
i walked home crying
with a barbie in one hand
and no ken in the other.
some kind of catharsis have you ever driven real early in the morning high? well all the cars seem like extensions of what they are- long and tall and rectangular figures. they seem three feet away but they come at you so slow. and the sky is really grey even if it's not. you're not the type of girl who anyone would expect to do anything, but you really are. your younger brother is in the backseat and the guy from down the street is sitting beside you. he's talking about how dank this shit is but it doesn't really matter because you can't feel your legs anymore. or your arms. and you roll the windows all the way down and stick your hand out because, jesus, dear godsome kind of catharsis by ~khaosxcaos
the year of the rabbit to matt:the year of the rabbit by ~khaosxcaos
calling into question every conventional way of being,
i am two or three or sevens solar poppings away from
a complete degradation into separate cells of matter
what i am really trying to say is that all this
bullshit with the dollar is making me mad. not the
sweet, rampant mad that leaves flowers in its rear
and churns the dirt into dust into dreams but the
silent, steady mad that will cause the body
to do horrible things to itself. if i was asked a
question: what is your soul's deepest desire?
i would respond: well, i would go to california
and work a shitty job and rent a shitty room that
has windows with beautiful th
| a collection of works i find abosultely captivating. beautiful writing that i wish was mine. i am going to wish on a star. you, go watch the writers of the above. |
hi, i'm violet. i like to write poetry when i'm stuck in traffic and coffee and doodling in felt-tip pens. i hid the ugly truth behind pretty words and make myself over more times than i can count. i lost the original copy a while ago, along with yesterday's calculus homework. i love to listen to laughter and life scares me, especially with heights and rollercoasters.
who are you?
"we write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect." ~anais nin
| express yourself through art <3 |
i hope all is going well!! 
i wrote another poem! 
its a sad one but i still wrote one!
sis 
i miss talking to you!!!!! what have you been up to?!?!?!
Sta.sh
