I wish I didn’t love you so much. No I don’t though; that’s not true. I am glad I do. I don’t know what to say to you except that it tore the heart out of my body saying goodbye to you.
(Source: quote-book)
These kids got to see their dad again. What a beautiful moment.
I had been there twice before
When I learned New York was going
to be taking care of me.
I imagine it now
My life, the thick grey,
The dreams I have after walking
The streets, kicked awake
By my own visions of falling.
Why am I going?
I know how to love something that
Can’t love you back.
I know how to touch a stranger
Who feels only like yourself; still not alright.
The calls are coming
They will be received on the street
By the corner man
And through my phone
From the people I keep lying to.
I will go out at night because
I think I should go out at night.
And I will love the night
And I will love the moment that
Makes me feel good here for another
Three months.
But I will not love him.
I learned New York would be taking care of me
But I feel placed with the mother who has let
Me down before.
The one who gives me a little money to forget
and food when I think I can no longer eat.
In bed when the light comes in,
I imagine sliding down a side-turned street
Vertical, and missing each inserted tree,
Each cinderblock person,
And not stopping until I hit whatever bridge…
It’s a good story to say;
I went sliding through New York.
But when it’s over my body is tired,
My hands are a little black
And I wonder if I’ve lost.
my 3 favorite ladies
(Source: fuckyeahladygaga)
Tangled in thought am I,
Stumble in speech do I?
Do I blunder and blush for the reason why?
Wander aloof do I,
Lean over gates and sigh,
Making friends with the bee and the butterfly?
If thus and thus I do,
Dazed by the thought of you,
Walking my sorrowful way in the early dew,
My heart cut through and through
In this despair of you,
Starved for a word or a look will my hope renew:
give then a thought for me
Walking so miserably,
Wanting relief in the friendship of flower or tree;
Do but remember, we
Once could in love agree,
Swallow your pride, let us be as we used to be
I just spent the weekend with the love of my youth. I have been holding on to her as a vestige of the past and perhaps as a way to prolong growing up or postpone having to redefing myself. Or another way to put it is that looking to her as my future partner was holding me in some skin she sees me…
Our thoughts and prayers are with you West.
I do not know what makes a writer, but it probably isn’t happiness.
(via fortheloveofcin)
“Patti Smith: Advice to the young”, interview by Christian Lund, the Louisiana Literature festival August 24, 2012, at the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art
this actually brought me to tears. I feel like this is how I try to live my life everyday and I’m so happy to watch Patti Smith spread these words to an audience. Do your best and be happy!
(Source: womanhouse)
He wanted to hang out. Well, specifically, after me explaining to him how tired I was, he wanted me to come over and “nap” with him. I knew what that meant, and reminded him that I barely knew him.
I was so bored, though. I was going to be at school for at least two and a half more weeks, and I needed more people to hang out with. I knew boys needed help with this sort of thing, so I denied the nap offer and boldly told him he should take me out to dinner.
He replied, “9:30?”
by Brittany Leitner
She sat on the wood
Chair at the table -
Only a twinge in her foot allowed
to move because he could not see it, so
Dig in! He could ignite her always
And as he cracked the words
“Be still” on her breakfast plate,
She ate the way she always did
With relish, with regret,
And with him by her side.
Full
By Brittany Leitner
I’m filled with a rage I cannot make sense of
I’ve got your throat down
Choke down to an art
But I also use my hands to glide
Green grass palm down
Or out and around my own cup of water
I can make the right amount of sip
I can keep the stone set stare to count out
Loud dots dot dots on your back
I. will. not. touch.
I’ve got your throat down
Choke down, but I breathe
Not right when you’re taking me
The formula - - ahhhhhh
Full up like a gift
What’s inside of me?
The deepest dark of me
Is my first house there?
Are my old dolls asking about me?
Well, what did you tell them?
No, I mean, what did they say?
That’s who I am.
I’m the girl who dressed them.
Fold over a skirt like a bedtime nurse
I am a pair of instructed hands.
If one’s a number, I take two
To get my final grip on you
I’ve got your throat down
Choke down
It’s my art.
by Brittany Leitner
I can’t feel this loneliness
When I think of where you are tonight
Or when you ask me to come outside
I am here, you say, and you tell me
To see what I will say,
And I want to come down so bad I want to
Come again and I can’t
I threw you out three times before it
Stuck and you were so mad at me but I was
Mad at you I was mad at you
Even though you said sorry to me after I shoved you
And even though you said we could figure out how to try
I am mad at you. And when you’re outside I stare
At your truck until you leave, from my window
And I stare at it and picture me in it and I’m so mad at you
I can be going home with you, but this is my home
And it’s 3 am, and now you are
Leaving.
You don’t know what worry is. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know whether I am worrying or not. Whether I can or not. I don’t know whether I can or not. I don’t know whether I have tried or not. I feel like a wet seed wild in the hot blind earth.
