(Source: nastysharkthoughts, via thewiltingflower)
(Source: pregnantfilm, via midnightprague)
"Let me tell you about longing.
Let me presume that I have something
new to say about it, that this room,
naked, its walls pining for clocks,
has something new to say
about absence. Somewhere
the crunch of an apple, fading
sunflowers on a quilt, a window
looking out to a landscape
with a single tree. And you
sitting under it. Let go,
said you to me in a dream,
but by the time the wind
carried your voice to me,
I was already walking through
the yawning door, towards
the small, necessary sadnesses
of waking. I wish
I could hold you now,
but that is a line that has
no place in a poem, like the swollen
sheen of the moon tonight,
or the word absence, or you,
or longing. Let me tell you about
longing. In a distant country
two lovers are on a bench, and pigeons,
unafraid, are perching beside them.
She places a hand on his knee
and says, say to me
the truest thing you can.
I am closing my eyes now.
You are far away."
Mikael de Lara Co, On the Necessity of Sadness (via atomiclanterns)
(via poutings)
"I believed that I wanted to be a poet, but deep down I just wanted to be a poem"
Jaime Gil de Bieda (via breathemystardust)
(Source: light-essence, via thevioletswitheredmyfatherdied)
(via midnightprague)
"You cannot save people. You can only love them."
Anaïs Nin (via alecshao)
(Source: marchist, via recklessdarling)
(Source: llestercorp, via rubedelia)
