"You are a sentence with no punctuation
a kaleidoscope full of colors that I don’t remember learning in elementary school
your voice is a sound I’ve been looking for my entire life.
your smile is the only sunrise worth setting my alarm clock early enough to see
If I could I would shapeshift into the first thing you think about in the morning
just so I can be reminded of what it’s like to wake up next to you.
I love you in a language that I don’t fully understand,
in words that I haven’t found enough courage to forklift out of my chest,
I hear that karma is vengeful and also a light sleeper,
so I’ve chosen to love you like this…quietly.
So I’ll call your phone and hang up before it actually rings,
I’ll write you letters that you will never read.
And when I see you in public
I’ll stick my hand inside of a bag of full of things that I haven’t done since you left me
and pull out a smile.
I’ll say something like “Hello….it’s nice to see you”
and I’ll keep walking…"
-Rudy Francisco, Turning Tables (via inspirasian51)(Source: gilligankane)
All the things that I’ve done
All the things that I’ve done. The things that have been done to me. Have been done In vain I wish I could let go like so many other people. Catharsis, not my specialty I wish I could be perfect like all the other kids But even theyre not perfect, which fuels my secret obsession to know their past know their pain, and see how they deal with it What got us here, and where do we go from here All the things that I’ve done All the faces I’ve seen Have been sought after In delusion Delusional fits of need and vulnerability insecurity and madness Trying to find the person where I can stop acting, for once. And be like that girl Alison always talked about, how much she admired and respected her Be like the other kids Be accepted Be myself If only those things weren’t mutually exclusive
Seeing the Place where you Grew-Up through Grown-Up Eyes
Halfway between the middle of nowhere and Chicago, the big bad city, I look at these kids and think “wow you’ve never been out of here and probably never will” because this place is more than a town, it’s a disease
In this necrotic, decrepit house of dreams differed, I look around and realize nothing lives here. All of the springtime and happiness from my childhood is shrouded by the realistic perspective that the only things left here are shattered hopes, shredded dreams and scraps of dignity held together with nothing stronger than scotch tape and Elmer’s glue
Looking around there is no passion for life, no desire for knowledge, no satisfaction, or wholeness or love.
Just angry hurt people, trying to survive their angry hurt lives swallowing every day’s dose of disappointment until bitter resentment is the only taste left in their mouths and in their hearts
Looking at these people, the only thing I feel is pity, which maybe can only be dealt out by the privileged
My new York eyes were so used to seeing wealth and glamour around every corner saying: damn that’s a fine European suit, or aww shit,mama know how to pull off them jeans. Here it’s ohhhhh you’re obese, wowwwww your a baby momma, wellll you’re a crackhead, to the point where not being 2 out of 3 makes you a damn big accomplishment in a place where that’s all you see. But there’s no bougie prestige, no me looking down on them, because I’m right here living it too. No no no, here, there’s no room for pride and no place for past accomplishments because for all intents and purposes new York might as well be Tokyo, and more importantly, who cares
No, this place has nothing left to offer. How does a town of 5000 manages to drain a the mind and body down to a withering soul, encassed in fragile bones and paper thin skin that sags off in all the places where flesh used to be? But pay me no mind. Put those old bones to rest. Lay them down at His feet and be in peace, in happiness and activity
In this place where children are made and dreams pruned to save time and disappointment, I put my grandmother in the ground all the while unearthing a past too painful for words. the sad truth that this place was the last thing she saw, but it will not be the last thing for me
After you realize it’s over
We did it over skype
Over texting and typing and facebook messaging
We did it over little plastic keys and miniature video cameras
We did it over phones with pocket sized screens
Over calls with microphones too small to see
So many ways, so many impersonal means
But even the most automated and mechanical messages can’t take away the pressure
Pressure that weighs on your soul
That pummels it into the ground
With claws and fangs that tear it into hundreds of pieces
Shreds of an identity strewn about
Everything you thought you knew scattered to the winds
But these feelings, these emotions, these cold leftovers of self can’t go flying all over the place
You mustn’t forget the pressure
You can’t forget the pressure
You can’t escape the pressure
Pressure more than just going to the bottom of the pool
12 feet down takes only 3 seconds to resurface
I’m talking about to the bottom of the ocean
Those crevices and channels where light has never touched
Where shapes, textures and hues are never distinguished
Yes, send them all down there
Send all the shreds of your lost causes down there
All you dreams, all your loves
All your happy moments that you believed were real
All the tattered remains of a broken hearted little girl
But condense them first please
Roll them into tight little balls
And then pack them together into solid blocks
Now lower then down with a crane into the rifts in the ocean where no one would ever dare to go
Into the depths of your heart where you won’t ever have to see them, hear them
Where you won’t ever have to feel them again
For your sake and for mine my dear
You know relaxation is on the menu when you sling-shot your bra across the room.
(Source: pricklylegs)
I dreamed last night I got on a plane to heaven
After dating a whole 3 weed and spending the past 3 days inseparable, I fell into a dream of you 3 hours after kissing goodbye.
We flew into the sunset and chased the rainbow for hours. You sat next to me and held my hand, we kissed in the receding light, soft forehead cheek and lip kisses. You held me in the sea of blue and your chest was more engulfing than the bed of clouds below us. Freeing me to reach happy places. So strong, but never hard, so consuming and so liberating. The sun like lava sinking through the clouds
Then I woke up and it was as if you were really there the entire time
THEME BY: ©HELOÍSA TEIXEIRA
BASE BY: ©YAM16
