There’s a dream where we break all the dishes in my kitchen and then
eat the pieces.
I know it’s a dream because we are still alive after we swallow.
It sounds more like a nightmare,
and it would be, except that we are together,
so even the fractured ceramic is tender as we chew it.

There’s a dream where we want our own world,
so we cut it out of blue and green paper like a science project,
except your silhouette is every piece of land
and my spine is every mountain range laying across you.

Here are the broken plates
mending inside of us, healing soft and pliant, bending like the necks of swans,
forgetting that they are glass.
Maybe we can forget, too.
I can kiss you where it’s sharp
until you can’t remember how the pain
made you someone to be afraid of.

There’s a dream where nothing bleeds, but everything is alive,
where broken things can be made
unbroken just by wishing it.

Let me tell you about the earth
and what it looked like before we
got our hands on it.
Let me tell you about the earth and
how it broke apart like a plate on
the tile floor.
We all know what it is to be unmade.
In a dream, we tried to forget.

Caitlyn Siehl, "Drift" (via alonesomes)

(via haffalump)

We took such care of tomorrow, but died on the way there.

Warsan Shire (via heresay)

(via heresay)

might make them angry
it will make you free.

Nayyirah Waheed, “If No One Has Ever Told You, Your Freedom is More Important Than Their Anger” (via larmoyante)

the nurse inserts the cannula, i say ‘thank you for not hurting me’.

my mate thinks i can’t accept help. over the phone she says ‘you won’t let anyone take care of you, you want to do all the caring, that’s not fair’.

sheila comes over to my apartment, we eat vietnamese food. i look tired, my body aches, she wants to give me a massage. when her hands touch the back of my neck i think of my mother, i don’t know why. she rubs my shoulders and i cry a bit. a small part of me thinks i don’t deserve it, is ashamed of needing anything from anyone outside of myself. the loudest voice inside my head says ‘take the love, why won’t you take the love?’