November 2012
1 post
October 2012
5 posts
3 tags
It’s nice not to wake up From a song rising above the shower Your voice weaving through steam Spilling a song I never liked
I enjoy the taste of coffee When I have the first and last cup There’s no one here to lecture me On why Calvin needed Hobbes
I never dream about your hands Like I did when you’d be late to bed And without your absence wrapped around me I’ve...
I don’t like thinking about loss in terms of people, because you don’t lose people. You don’t misplace them, or find them sitting under your bed or in some random kitchen drawer when you finally remember where you left them. They’re never lost; they walk away, they accidentally drift in a different direction, they die. Loss also implies possession. I’ve never owned a person; I’ve only been given...
“Time was passing like a hand waving from a train I wanted to be on. I hope you...”
– Jonathan Safran Foer
To fall out of love.
To give yourself immensely to a person, and to open up the cavity of your chest and realize you have an organ instead of a mechanical, blood-pumping contraption.
To transform your eyes from two clumps of vessels into spherical windows, and to allow a person- the right person- to look into them and see completely through to you.
To actively feel the tectonic plates shifting below your feet, and...
This is one of the most fucked up things I’ve ever thought.
When I was in my senior year of high school, we read a book about literary analysis, and one of the chapters was called something like “It’s Never Just Heart Disease.” I wish I still had the book, but it was loaned to a friend of a friend, lost in the abyss of infinite borrowing. The author was saying that if you give a character a...
