February 2012
1 post
December 2011
4 posts
“Let your emotions be fuel to your flame. Being on fire will keep you awake. If...”
pinkbamboo:
someone told me I should not pen my hands with ink because it would get into my bloodstream and I would become poisoned and end up dead. what a wonderful way to die, then, if I wrote your name all over my body and let it soak in.
It’s the feeling. Waking up, limbs tangled and hearing, “Morning, beautiful.” A kiss on the cheek and I’m gone. Every day, I like her more.
I am fucking terrified.
November 2011
9 posts
Tired of: being an inconvenience, having a dirty apartment, looking back, moving ever-so-slowly forward, feeling so vulnerable as of late it’s almost as if my muscle is exposed, and lacking energy. I’m tired of this, that, her, him, and everything else in between. I want a break. I want to call off work, and not feel guilty. I want to look in my fridge and have options. I want to have...
Matt Hawthorne Is A Myth: In Which I Condone Naked... →
matthawthorneisamyth:
I am not built for normal people because I don’t give a shit about getting my picture taken with celebrities or reading the most heartfelt airport novel that was made into a movie staring some steel-eyed, strong-jawed man boy with the perfect amount of facial hair broadcast across his face….
dreamnoises:
the evil was told to stay in doors so we left. into the darkness, into the night with it’s bright stars & fire. into the dimly lit bar where the taxidermied animals watched us speak. they watched our words fall out of our mouths & into our drinks. at home we greeted our evil & took off our clothes. six, six, sex. count the scratches on your shoulders & the bite marks...
“The odd thing about this life is always that you spend half your time trying to...”
– Tom Waits
Kissin’ on bass lines, growing my hair out/itching to break out the skullmower, hiding, sneezing, and planning beneath blankets of yesteryear. Sing it loud.
September 2011
6 posts
There is a terrible ache in my chest for more, but I haven’t the slightest as to what I’m longing for.
July 2011
6 posts
Tired, tired, tired. Wine and phone calls when it’s late enough I should be in bed, yet early birds are stretching their wings.
Unconditional love is truly a beautiful thing.
I miss the days when my mascara didn’t give me away.
June 2011
19 posts
May 2011
15 posts
I love a good surprise. Goodbye Delaware, hello again Dayton in a few hours. The night treated us well.
“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
– Ernest Hemingway
