Febrero 2012
9 publicaciones nuevas
I Wrote This For You: The Day You Shot Me In The... →
officialiwrotethisforyou:
The sun rose like it does on any other day, on the day you shot me in the back of the head.
I’d just made coffee and you’d come back from doing the groceries and I asked if you wanted some without turning my head to look at you, on the day you shot me in the back of the head.
And I hit the…
BPD vs DBT
Do I swim through pain or does it swim through me?
If I swim through pain
it will wrap around each limb
and my fallible arms
will dig through swells and sweeps and pulls
toward no certain shore
but if my pain swims through me
I’ll let it in through the gap in your teeth
and my chest may tighten as the pain fills my lungs
as it dissipates through my blood, my hands may go numb
And...
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I recall your ribcage
and her hands
I remember the back of his neck
and I remember all of the affection I traced there
With you I felt so sweet, when you called me sweet
My fingers, hands and lips have so much more sweetness to give
There are pages more of sad poems to draft
And there is more to me than longing
But you, you must become my static memory of you
With traces of love and...
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Natalia
Today I missed so many lives and faces and stories and blessings and lips and hands
I felt safe in Natalia’s arms
built like my mother’s
Do they know that I tore my heart, littering it like bread crumbs on the red dirt?
Do they know that my feet beat out new paths
as my blood drove a new course through my body?
There was pain and comfort enough to go around back then
not like...
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There was pain and comfort enough to go around back then
Not like these days
Now a veil slides
through my annointed hair
not falling past my shoulders
Between God and I there should be gifts enough to cover the earth
Wooded lungs
and bowl-like black skies
Skin-like pink flowers
Water
and grass
and bugs
and eyes that see
Between God and I
stand mirrors that multiply
He cries when I...
Enero 2012
1 publicación nueva
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I worked out that I didn’t want really to talk to you
all I really wanted was a shower and a sitcom or two to ignore while I surfed some strangers’ tumblrs
but here’s the thing:
I don’t want you to ever forget what you did to me. Because for some stupid fucking reason I’ll never forget you.
I want to drag you through each painful step of my recovery because you...
Diciembre 2011
16 publicaciones nuevas
lostinthesounds:
“So we dream on. Thus we invent our lives. We give ourselves a sainted mother, we make our father a hero; and someone’s older brother and someone’s older sister – they become our heroes too. We invent what we love and what we fear. There is always a brave lost brother – and a little lost sister, too. We dream on and on: the best hotel, the perfect family, the resort life. And our...
“Passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. It is...”
– House of Leaves by Mark Danielewski (via lostinthesounds)
my living room can be just like the hospital if I take my pills in fistfuls and watch 80s and 90s movies until the effects set in
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lostinthesounds:
“We feel that to reveal embarrassing or private things, we have given someone something, that, like a primitive person fearing that a photographer will steal his soul, we identify our secrets, our past and their blotches, with our identity, that revealing our habits or losses or deeds somehow makes one less of oneself.”
—
Heartbreaking Work of a Staggering Genius by Dave...
“When we die, these are the stories still on our lips. The stories we’ll only...”
– Haunted by Chuck Palahniuk (via lostinthesounds)
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my stomach hurts from the bowls of popcorn and the cans of coke
and watching my family dog dying
and feeling the scars on my arm
and wading through my body count
God, isn’t there enough law & order?
And then I think: I’m selfish. And somehow that calms me down.
But I could’ve sworn that I cared about you.
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"Poison"
It was all very well to say ‘Drink me,’ but the wise little Alice was not going to do THAT in a hurry. ‘No, I’ll look first,’ she said, ‘and see whether it’s marked “poison” or not’; for she had read several nice little histories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant things, all because they...
bookoasis:
“After a while you learn the subtle difference Between holding a hand and chaining a soul, And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning And company doesn’t mean security. And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts And presents aren’t promises, And you begin to accept your defeats With your head up and your eyes open With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child, And you...
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my muscles quiver and shake like the internet. My head swims and spins from the medication. Maybe they thought that if I couldn’t focus I’d feel better. Maybe that’s what’s making me better.
I’d be better if I didn’t feel so hard and deep, bruising and scarring the ones I feel for and with and from. If I were better, we could be friends with proper fences. Good...
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sad as fuck
You can run away if you want and I‘ll nail my feet to the floor if it means not chasing you I am not your sister I am not my brother I am my Mother’s daughter I am Dario’s Helena I am deep swells of love and need and war cries flung far I am bitter cold of black skies, shaped like bowls and warm blue, punctured by wooded lungs I am rich, soft brown I am hot tears...
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“We can do nothing for him,” said the Tin Woodman, sadly; “for he is much too heavy to lift. We must leave him here to sleep on forever, and perhaps he will dream that he has found courage at last.”
“I’m sorry,” said the Scarecrow. “The Lion was a very good comrade for one so cowardly. But let us go on.”
“After the first glass of vodka
you can accept just about anything
of life even...”
– As Planned by Frank O’Hara (via lostinthesounds)
Don't worry, we're on the same page.
You’ve made all these knots in my stomach and back. And you’ve pulled them tight with your hands and your mouth. You’ve pulled them tight with comfort and reaffirmation. And you left them there. All the smiles and touches and kind words sunk deep and settled and hollowed into this knotted pit that’s every fear I told you I had. And that you said I could forget.
“Brod’s life was a slow realization that the world was not for her, and that for...”
– Everything Is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer (via lostinthesounds)
“Keep walking. Hot night right now, right here. All you have is what you are. All...”
– Eye Scream by Henry Rollins (via lostinthesounds)
Noviembre 2011
36 publicaciones nuevas
My skin in ribbons
Como debe ser
Como debe ser
Como debe ser
Y un grito en mi garganta
Tearing ribbons inside me too
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y si la terapia no me cambia?
y si mis brazos nunca dejan de llamar a la filosa verdad?
y si mi cara continua a deformar delante del espejo?
y si tu voz no deja de dividirse
en susurros
y mentiras
y chillidos
y asco y asco y asco y asco y asco?
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Parezco Yo
Siempre me están preguntado, “¿Porque tú no quieres parecer así…?” No, no es que yo no quiero parecer de una ú otra forma. Es porque yo no quiero ser de una ú otra forma. No me agrada ver el desarrollo de quien soy, ver el diseño fuera de mis manos. No quiero equivocarme, pintar encima del retrato real. No quiero talar y revelar el engaño de mi potencial infinito. ¿Cómo...
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There were, however, many adventures which she...
He often went out alone, and when he came back you were never absolutely certain whether he had had an adventure or not. He might have forgotten it so completely that he said nothing about it; and then when you went out you found the body; and, on the other hand, he might say a great deal about it, and yet you could not find the body. Sometimes he came home with his head bandaged, and then Wendy...
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Alice's Adventures
I could tell you my adventures—beginning from this morning,’ said Alice a little timidly: ‘but it’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.’
‘Explain all that,’ said the Mock Turtle.
‘No, no! The adventures first,’ said the Gryphon in an impatient tone: ‘explanations take such a dreadful time.’
So Alice...
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A Little Princess
“Things happen to people by accident,” she used to say. “A lot of nice accidents have happened to me. It just HAPPENED that I always liked lessons and books, and could remember things when I learned them. It just happened that I was born with a father who was beautiful and nice and clever, and could give me everything I liked. Perhaps I have not really a good temper at all,...
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My skin in ribbons
my skin in ribbons
to tie these boxes that will not close
to tie my long hair that falls in my face and yours
to tie my hands that never reach and never fill
to tie my mouth full of rancor and hurt and love
I want to see my skin in ribbons, long falling ribbons
I want to bind together my broken bones with ribbons
I want to see these boxes shut, my bloody mark on each lid
I want to see...
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A well-known glow came into Sara's eyes.
“Yes,” she said, hugging her knees, “that will be a good place to pretend about. I am a prisoner in the Bastille. I have been here for years and years—and years; and everybody has forgotten about me. Miss Minchin is the jailer—and Becky”—a sudden light adding itself to the glow in her eyes—”Becky is the prisoner in the next cell.”
She turned to Ermengarde,...
I don't think you can exaggerate rape →
freebroccoli:
lasmercedes:
What I’M saying is that with rape trauma it takes YEARS for women or men to come to terms with the fact that they’ve even been raped—if they EVER come to terms with that fact.
No argument there. It’s an arduous process and not everyone can do it.
To call this an exaggerated statistic is ridiculous. Maybe trying to have a statistic is ridiculous. But I don’t think...
Either way I'll get into the garden
‘Come, there’s no use in crying like that!’ said Alice to herself, rather sharply; ‘I advise you to leave off this minute!’ She generally gave herself very good advice, (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes; and once she remembered trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a...
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What would that look like? To be content?
She worked and dug and pulled up weeds steadily, only becoming more pleased with her work every hour instead of tiring of it. It seemed to her like a fascinating sort of play. She found many more of the sprouting pale green points than she had ever hoped to find. They seemed to be starting up everywhere and each day she was sure she found tiny new ones, some so tiny that they barely peeped...
I don't think you can exaggerate rape →
freebroccoli:
lasmercedes:
freebroccoli:
Also, are feminists against murder jokes, e.g. “you got murdered in that game!” or “Man, that test was murder.” I’m pretty sure murder is worse than rape.
This is frighteningly offensive, ignorant, hurtful, and harmful.
Not only is the majority of rape unreported, I would propose that the majority is unrecognized.
Remember the math here assumed a...
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Debunking the "1 in 4 women are raped" myth. →
freebroccoli:
Also, are feminists against murder jokes, e.g. “you got murdered in that game!” or “Man, that test was murder.” I’m pretty sure murder is worse than rape.
This is frighteningly offensive, ignorant, hurtful, and harmful.
Not only is the majority of rape unreported, I would propose that the majority is unrecognized. How many women are taught and believe that they deserve, should...
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Parece que si nos esperamos y colecionamos las fotos o por lo menos los recuerdos tantos buenos como malos las feas como las que salieron bien será todo como una pelí para admirar (ó en éso tengo que creer) para hacerte sonreír una pelí con la capacidad de llorar y en este lugar nos encontrarémos con la honestidad honesta (ó en éso eligio yo creer) el dolor y el gozo, no sé cuál sigue cuál,...
“It shouldn’t make you sad to know you’re loved, Grayson.”
But it did. It made...”
– Born in Ice by Nora Roberts (via lostinthesounds)
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