Yes.
(via b-zzed)
The body’s strongest muscle.
(Source: emptiedski3s, via b-zzed)
(Source: thefinest-blog, via b-zzed)
When the clouds roll in
and the wind picks up,
a summer storm’s on it’s way
baiting, waiting, to erupt.
Miss Lightning blows through
like a charged breeze,
billowing in every direction
smashing and crashing in the trees.
She’s got a red nebula mouth
and constellations across her face
with eyes that flash like thunderbolts
careening, screaming into outer space.
Miss Lightning,
you’re beautiful and frightening,
won’t you strike me with your gaze
before you depart across the landscape?
Miss Lightning,
you’re more intriguing than any maze,
won’t you strike me with your gaze?
(Source: c0uples, via sour-souls)
One of my favorite poets of all time.
(Source: mylistofthangs)
the last cigarettes are smoked, the loaves are sliced,
and lest this be taken for wry sorrow,
drown the spider in wine.
you are much more than simply dead:
I am a dish for your ashes,
I am a fist for your vanished air.
the most terrible thing about life
is finding it gone.
It’s a bore, but the answer is good things only happen to you if you’re good. Good? Honest is more what I mean. Not law-type honest—I’d rob a grave, I’d steal two-bits off a dead man’s eyes if I thought it would contribute to a day’s enjoyment—but unto-thyself-type honest. Be anything but a coward, a pretender, an emotional crook, a whore: I’d rather have cancer than a dishonest heart.
Holly Golightly
Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Truman Capote
Grey tears pour out
of colorless eyes
like waves and waves
of sorrow.
Today, someone
from my high school died.
He took his own life,
he won’t see tomorrow.
We all have our reasons
for keeping things locked inside
but when those demons
get the best of us,
everyone else can only
beat their fists
and cry and cry
because no matter what the reason
we always ask
why why why.
