January 2011
94 posts
December 2010
66 posts
1 tag
why we read
I wish that love were laid out like a book, something I could hold - really hold, completely, cradling the spine against me. I wish time spent was something I could feel, the way one can feel every page as it turns, the right hand holding something that gets thinner and thinner. I wish love were laid out like a book so that I could know when the end was coming and how much time was left.
Folly & Finches: Ruminations II →
follyandfinches:
I am twenty and I am lost. You have heard these words before but I insist you read the rest. When I was sixteen I made mistakes. I gave my heart away to rough hands, to boys with empty eyes. I threw words around like a whip, just hard and fast enough to leave a mark. The kind of mark that never…
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brainwash
Why did I need to hear myths about love? A fragrant spring, cherry blossoms, waterfalls; love, a fresh pool to fall into. Why did I learn about love? Why did I believe that someone could find me beautiful?
I thought there would be someone just on the other side of this wood, under the canopies of thick leaves where the larks sing and the light blushes through, but I’m growing more afraid -...
It’s not all bad. Heightened self-consciousness, apartness, an inability to join...
– Stephen Fry (via nocternity)
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beams
if i bring light to a world or a life it must be a terrible sapphire glow
or a light too fake and too yellow unclean but still washing you out.
2 tags
Anonymous asked: Your writing is wonderful.
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to get to me
I tilt my head down slightly in the shower, closing my eyes and holding my breath, wondering what it must look like to see my hair wet and weighed against my forehead. I haven’t been seen in years. There are beads of water, light and drunkenly tiptoeing down the crooked bridge of my nose, curved and large on my face though still traveling up and down. A bridge between kingdoms; two very...
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of ice
Snow falls and I sleep in the afternoon, after I’m home from a job that begins so early in the morning. I do not shave and the snow falls. My eyes are dark. It’s white outside and I do not feel it.
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close to escaping
I’m finding dimes on the sidewalk scattered and glowing silver on a deep charcoal with snow dust blown
and I pretend I’m some god or maybe something loose and free and dead floating above tiny moons.
1 tag
little london morning
I am ever the passing stranger, thought of after, living in some white world, bundled up with scarves and coats to walk - alone - through a bitter blankness. Winter in Canada. Beautiful in some frames, yes, but merciless. Somewhere beneath the snow and cold are flowerpots and spades, like relics of an ancient age. Yes, it’s only temporary - but so cold and so dark. When it’s all that...
Anonymous asked: um why didn't you reply to my message?
Anonymous asked: Your new video is my favorite you posted. Youre voice is so deep and strong.
Also I have to say you look hot with glasses.
Also I have to say you look hot with glasses.
2 tags
breed real trust
So now when I am with someone and my face is against his, when my chest deflates and drops with a thud and he looks into my eyes and smiles - sensing nothing wrong - then I use that kiss saved to escape anything. That kiss for kissing someone you cannot and will not love - not because you don’t want to or are not trying to or are not wishing to, no. It’s not even that you’re...
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1 tag
the court, the winter; a mind
A block from where I am, yellow plows are scraping the snow off of the roads into little mountains and short walls. Their metal limbs, hunched shoulders, blinking eyes still small and quiet, pushing, pushing. Tall and thin; skeletal like enormous beasts at someone’s call all moving in line down the roads. Like a dream I had once. Looking out my window, a parade of demons blowing horns and...
1 tag
Folly & Finches: I'm twenty & lost. →
follyandfinches:
I think I was once a writer I could weave and sew emotion whole worlds if I had the time and words fell from my fingers like blood from a needle prick I think I was once graceful my features drawn across my face in light pencil strokes watercolor paint or coal I think I was once these things but…
3 tags
1 tag
Anonymous asked: Favourite Christmas song?
Anonymous asked: Favourite Christmas song?