October 16, 2009
cowgirlblues: credit unknown- found on xanga

cowgirlblues:

credit unknown- found on xanga
October 15, 2009
(via beepbopboop)

(via beepbopboop)

October 8, 2009
(via geometricity)

(via geometricity)

geometricity: (via lemoneyes)

geometricity:

(via lemoneyes)
justoneplace: As he stands in the doorway about to put his housemate’s cat out, he cradles it in his arms and whispers something unintelligible into the scruff of her neck and you think, “I love this man,” then find yourself biting down on your tongue to keep back tears. Love, for him, has become a dirty word. Later, you wake up at three twenty-seven in the morning and the door is closed now, slivers of light shoving their way through the cracks, struggling across the floorboards, not quite making it to the bed. Many things are not allowed here, and you drift back into sleep, into a dream, where you are someplace else. You are always someplace else.

justoneplace:

As he stands in the doorway about to put his housemate’s cat out, he cradles it in his arms and whispers something unintelligible into the scruff of her neck and you think, “I love this man,” then find yourself biting down on your tongue to keep back tears. Love, for him, has become a dirty word. Later, you wake up at three twenty-seven in the morning and the door is closed now, slivers of light shoving their way through the cracks, struggling across the floorboards, not quite making it to the bed. Many things are not allowed here, and you drift back into sleep, into a dream, where you are someplace else. You are always someplace else.
undertheoak: longlivethequeen:ipictureyouinthesun:gatekeeper: hautelikecouture: (via bendthelight)

undertheoak:

longlivethequeen:ipictureyouinthesun:gatekeeper: hautelikecouture: (via bendthelight)

(via typewriterblues)

(via typewriterblues)

October 3, 2009
“ This fear of transparency. “Please look inside me” is followed by “please go away.
Bob Hicok
daybreaks: (via staree)

daybreaks:

(via staree)
“

Ah, Love

you expert
knifethrower, outlining my body

with your gleaming blades
as I stand trembling here

against the bedroom wall.
Linda Pastan
September 30, 2009

frida kahlo to marty mcconnell

unicornology:

leaving is not enough; you must
stay gone. train your heart
like a dog. change the locks
even on the house he’s never
visited. you lucky, lucky girl.
you have an apartment
just your size. a bathtub
full of tea. a heart the size
of Arizona, but not nearly
so arid. don’t wish away
your cracked past, your
crooked toes, your problems
are papier mache puppets
you made or bought because the vendor
at the market was so compelling you just
had to have them. you had to have him.
and you did. and now you pull down
the bridge between your houses,
you make him call before
he visits, you take a lover
for granted, you take
a lover who looks at you
like maybe you are magic. make
the first bottle you consume
in this place a relic. place it
on whatever altar you fashion
with a knife and five cranberries.
don’t lose too much weight.
stupid girls are always trying
to disappear as revenge. and you
are not stupid. you loved a man
with more hands than a parade
of beggars, and here you stand. heart
like a four-poster bed. heart like a canvas.
heart leaking something so strong
they can smell it in the street.

— marty mcconnell

geometricity: drunkenbutterfly: scarymansion: (via sashley)

geometricity:

drunkenbutterfly:

scarymansion:

(via sashley)

We are never going to be as young as we are tonight

geometricity:

hello-therelove:

chloejane:asundaysmile:(via astronomie)
September 29, 2009
melshep: (via staree)

melshep:

(via staree)

Demeter, Waiting, Rita Dove

beepbopboop:

smut-to-go:

poetry365:

No. Who can bear it. Only someone
who hates herself, who believes
to pull a hand back from a daughter’s cheek
is to put love into her pocket—
like one of those ashen Christian
philosophers, or a war-bound soldier.

She is gone again and I will not bear
it. I will drag my grief through a winter
of my own making, refuse
any meadow that recycles itself into
hope. Shit on the cicadas, dry meteor
flash, finicky butterflies. I will wail and thrash
until the whole goddamned golden panorama freezes
over. Then I will sit down to wait for her. Yes.