(Source: myshoesuntied, via clarev)

44 notes found this again and now i'm SOBBING

No one’s fated or doomed to love anyone.
The accidents happen, we’re not heroines,
they happen in our lives like car crashes,
books that change us, neighborhoods
we move into and come to love.
Tristan und Isolde is scarcely the story,
women at least should know the difference
between love and death. No poison cup,
no penance. Merely a notion that the tape-recorder
should have caught some ghost of us: that tape-recorder
not merely played but should have listened to us,
and could instruct those after us:
this we were, this is how we tried to love,
and these are the forces they had ranged against us,
and theses are the forces we had ranged within us,
within us and against us, against us and within us.

Adrienne Rich, Twenty-One Love Poems, XVII (via holdonmagnolia)

(Source: theoryoflostthings, via jessieflux)

227 notes

38 plays

"I guess it really is just me, myself and my millions."

decided that the best cure for breaking up with your boyfriend / moving out of your apartment / looking for a new job / feeling generally like jello is to  only listen to rap music and put money over everything

13 notes $$$$$ by rap music i mean drake

also, as an update on my life, i have been trying to write some poems about boys again, and so far, they are all ending with “We are two big idiots.” so I think it is going REALLY WELL!!!!

8 notes stick a fucking KNIFE in it :~)

Snow and the Dirty Rain

Close your eyes. A lover is standing too close
to focus on. Leave me blurry and fall toward me 
with your entire body. Lie under the covers, pretending
to sleep, while I’m in the other room. Imagine
my legs crossed, my hair combed, the shine of my boots
in the slatted light. I’m thinking My plant, his chair,
the ashtray that we bought together. 
I’m thinking This is where
we live. 
When we were little we made houses out of 
cardboard boxes. We can do anything. It’s not because
our hearts are large, they’re not, it’s what we
struggle with. The attempt to say Come over. Bring
your friends. It’s a potluck, I’m making pork chops, I’m making
those long noodles you love so much. 
My dragonfly,
my black-eyed fire, the knives in the kitchen are singing
for blood, but we are the crossroads, my little outlaw,
and this is the map of my heart, the landscape
after cruelty which is, of course, a garden, which is
a tenderness, which is a room, a lover saying Hold me
tight, it’s getting cold.
 We have not touched the stars,
nor are we forgiven, which brings us back
to the hero’s shoulders and the gentleness that comes,
not from the absence of violence, but despite
the abundance of it. The lawn drowned, the sky on fire,
the gold light falling backward through the glass
of every room. I’ll give you my heart to make a place 
for it to happen, evidence of a love that transcends hunger.
Is that too much to expect? That I would name the stars
for you? That I would take you there? The splash
of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube? We’ve read
the back of the book, we know what’s going to happen.
The fields burned, the land destroyed, the lovers left
broken in the brown dirt. And then’s it’s gone.
Makes you sad. All your friends are gone. Goodbye
Goodbye. No more tears. I would like to meet you all
in Heaven. But there’s a litany of dreams that happens
somewhere in the middle. Moonlight spilling
on the bathroom floor. A page of the book where we
transcend the story of our lives, past the taco stands
and record stores. Moonlight making crosses
on your body, and me putting my mouth on every one.
We have been very brave, we have wanted to know
the worst, wanted the curtain to be lifted from our eyes.
This dream going on with all of us in it. Penciling in
the bighearted slob. Penciling in his outstrechted arms.
Our father who art in Heaven. Our father who art buried
in the yard. 
Someone is digging your grave right now.
Someone is drawing a bath to wash you clean, he said,
so think of the wind, so happy, so warm. It’s a fairy tale,
the story underneath the story, sliding down the polished 
halls, lightning here and gone. We make these
ridiculous idols so we can to what’s behind them,
but what happens after we get up the ladder?
Do we simply stare at what’s horrible and forgive it?
Here is the river, and here is the box, and here are
the monsters we put in the box to test our strength
against. Here is the cake, and here is the fork, and here’s
the desire to put it inside us, and then the question
behind every question: What happens next?
The way you slam your body into mine reminds me
I’m alive, but monsters are always hungry, darling,
and they’re only a few steps behind you, finding
the flaw, the poor weld, the place where we weren’t 
stitched up quite right, the place they could almost
slip right into through if the skin wasn’t trying to 
keep them out, to keep them here, on the other side
of the theater where the curtain keeps rising.
I crawled out the window and ran into the woods.
I had to make up all the words myself. The way
they taste, the wy they sound in the air. I passed
through the narrow gate, stumbled in, stumbled
around for a while, and stumbled back out. I made
this place for you. A place for to love me. 
If this isn’t a kingdom then I don’t know what is.
So how would you catalog it? Dawn in the fields?
Snow and dirty rain? Light brought in in buckets?
I was trying to describe the kingdom, but the letters
kept smudging as I wrote them: the hunter’s heart,
the hunter’s mouth, the trees and the trees and the
space between the trees, swimming in gold. The words
frozen. The creatures frozen. The plum sauce
leaking out of the bag. Explaining will get us nowhere. 
I was away, I don’t know where, lying on the floor,
pretending I was dead. I wanted to hurt you
but the victory is that I could not stomach it. We have
swallowed him up, 
they said. It’s beautiful. It really is.
I had a dream about you. We were in the gold room
where everyone finally gets what they want. 
You said Tell me about your books, your visions made
of flesh and light 
and I said This is the Moon. This is
the Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take you
there. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar
cube… 
We were in the gold room where everyone 
finally gets what they want, so I said What do you
want, sweetheart? 
and you said Kiss me. Here I am
leaving you clues. I am singing now while Rome
burns. We are all just trying to be holy. My applejack,
my silent night, just mash your lips against me. 
We are all going forward. None of us are going back.


Richard Siken

14 notes currently that last line has been looping in my head

*

forgot the password to Poorly Written History but I am still trying very hard to make this upcoming season / life about creating things again yet I really just want to snack and look at funny dog pictures so

7 notes

finally have a day off after working too many hours this week with not enough sleep and a coffee dependency that felt similar to some kind of finals week frenzy
i can finally put my hair back into a tiny bun on top of my head, so that’s moving forward I guess. still haven’t unpacked my suitcase from when I went home for christmas though. win some, lose some. 
idk, feeling weird about everything and searching craigslist for jobs that are everywhere but chicago. does anyone in a warm state need someone to write emails? i’m ok at it and also easy to bribe with food.

finally have a day off after working too many hours this week with not enough sleep and a coffee dependency that felt similar to some kind of finals week frenzy

i can finally put my hair back into a tiny bun on top of my head, so that’s moving forward I guess. still haven’t unpacked my suitcase from when I went home for christmas though. win some, lose some. 

idk, feeling weird about everything and searching craigslist for jobs that are everywhere but chicago. does anyone in a warm state need someone to write emails? i’m ok at it and also easy to bribe with food.

3 notes \m/

coolghost182:

jayyeah in da studio like

his little paws :”””’)http://tumblr.4gifs.com

coolghost182:

jayyeah in da studio like

his little paws :”””’)

(Source: 4gifs, via bigbabyrojas)

470,431 notes

cat mom of the year

cat mom of the year

2 notes

turn up while watching law & order SVU

turn up while watching law & order SVU

5 notes this cat