What do you do with the leftover you?This place, my life, is so beautiful. Where are my words?
[In love.]
Newest
The Personifying of... 2.0The streets walk you at five AM; you don't walk them. There is something about the cold, biting wind of pre-dawn winter that gets you. It turns things inside out and upside down. Backwards. Forwards. Time doesn't work the same and the streets have legs and feet, they approach your room with a hard-to-hear silence, arms pregnant with sweet things to whisper in your ears. They trample through you and over you, bruising your limbs, your hopes of a good night's sleep. The asphalt smells of cloves and Christmas, it tastes of earthquakes in Bermuda. Blown glass. The room expands and contracts, scares you with the inconsistency of size and smell andThe Personifying of... 2.0
by ~visage-porcelain
The Personifying of...The streets walk me at five AM, I don't walk them. There is something about the cold, biting wind of pre-dawn winter that gets me. It turns things inside out and upside down. Backwards. Forwards. Time doesn't work the same and the streets have legs and feet, they approach my room with a hard-to-hear silence, arms full of sweet things to whisper in my ears. They trample through me and over me, bruising my hopes of a good night's sleep. The asphalt smells of cloves and Christmas, it tastes of earthquakes in Bermuda. Blown glass. The room expands and contracts, scares me with the inconsistency of size and smell and taste. Five AM is the best timThe Personifying of...
by ~visage-porcelain
SomniloquySenseless tales in drowsy drawlSomniloquy
out of lips weighed down with sleep:
"There is something in the hall."
You spin your stories when night falls,
disconcerting dramas, bleak
and senseless. A drowsy drawl.
Someone's hand against the wall
like a whisper; my pulse leaps.
There is something in the hall
that stalks me with its wet crawl
and mumbles like you--asleep--
in senseless tales, drowsy drawl.
When it finds me, it will maul
me into a helpless heap.
(There is something in the h
by ~visage-porcelain
Favourites
child's play.o.child's play.
i've got skinned elbows and baby-soft knees.
i've got ribs that are cracked right down the side.
i've got a pulse that seems so close to being dead
but it keeps beating like it's got a job to do.
l.
you've got pretty eyes and a misshapen nose.
you've got long fingers that look like they'll break
you've got a heart that keeps thinking it's dead
but like my pulse, it won't stop even if you beg it.
o.
they've got two hands that don't match but wear
by ~Zekidear
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--
smile, more life agony is in the way
--
Dear Me ,
you're the reason why I keep on living
--
"Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops."
-Slaugherhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
--
Anca Cernoschi [link]
--
"Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops."
-Slaugherhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
(yes, he's FtM trans, if you were scratching your head lol)
--
"Reach she said for no one else but you
'Cause you won't turn away
When someone else is gone." - "Long Day"
"I am in earnest--I will not equivocate--I will not excuse--I will not retreat a single inch and I will be heard." -- William L. Garrison
--
"Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops."
-Slaugherhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
--
"Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops."
-Slaugherhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
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