personal posts

Language is what honors the vanishing.

Or is language what slows the leaving?

Or does it only deepen what we know of loss?

Inside us, constellations,

bit thread knotted into night’s black drape.

There are no right words,

if by right we mean perfect,

if by perfect we mean able to save us.

-From "The Failure of Language" by Jacqueline Berger

I have been told that when a loved one dies
the worst part is not the shock, or the blood,
or how grief colors all the places your hands touch.
The worst part is when the world heals you too well.
Years later, when you begin to forget their face
and their voice becomes a song
you do not remember the tune for.
After the burial, when the body just a fact.
A memory only confronted when prepared.

I do not have this problem of forgetting.
I remember your face exactly. Your voice is right here,
coloring my voice. Nothing is helping me
to forget your hands,
how they shook like apologizing mountains
hollowed in their wisdom.
I do not now about the part
where you cannot remember grief.
Grief comes for me every morning,
dragging your last breaths behind him
like screaming children.

This aphorism seems a privilege
of bad memory. The brain does this.
It hides the worst. It is the reason we look at scars
and say All I remember was the screaming.
Then everything went black. When I woke up
the worst of it was over.

Clementine von Radics (via clementinevonradics)

12:38 pm  414 notes

Mouth like the lock on a jewelry
box. Mouth like a bruise,
like something that gets
under the skin.
Mouth like where the hell did she
come from?
Mouth like a marching band, like
a parade of sighs.
Mouth like she must be magic,
she must be.

Mouth like pick a card, any card.
Mouth like an opera. Mouth like
I don’t understand you but
I am crying, anyway.
Mouth like a river, like diving
head-first into it. Mouth like a
coffin you want to die in.
Mouth like you’ll never recover,
like nothing will ever be like this
again, and you’re sure of it.

Mouth like do you love her?
Mouth like do you love her or do
you just not want to kiss anyone

Caitlyn Siehl, Mouth (via alonesomes)

8:20 am  1,468 notes

“College kids literally don’t care about walking in the way of cars at school because we’re like “hit me i don’t care pay my tuition.””

"Hit me my thesis is due in 12 hours and I haven’t started it"

"Hit me I have a final in an hour and I didn’t study"

"Hit me I’ve been on a 24 hour drinking binge and I’m invincible"

"Hit me. You’re a university vehicle and I’ll get free tuition."

"Hit me I feel like a failure anyway"

(via infelicific)

(via that-funny-guy)

2:38 am  485,721 notes

2:26 am  2 notes

“We boil at different degrees.”

— Ralph Waldo Emerson (via aestheticintrovert)

(Source: likeafieldmouse, via aestheticintrovert)

8:01 pm  8,347 notes


progress #embroidery #art

3:40 pm  847 notes

8:20 am  39,374 notes

3:40 pm  31,508 notes

“Brave is not convenient.
It is not simple and stylish,
a sweater to be removed at ease.
It is a weight, a rock, a cross
to be carried daily.
The decision to
yet again
be brave is not daintily made.
It may not be easy,
it may not be worth it.
But how many have said,
“oh, I wish I hadn’t been so brave”?”

Michelle K., Brave. (via michellekpoems)

(via learningtobefre-ed)

8:20 am  1,524 notes

“Girls are trained to say, ‘I wrote this, but it’s probably really stupid.’ Well, no, you wouldn’t write a novel if you thought it was really stupid. Men are much more comfortable going, ‘I wrote this book because I have a unique perspective that the world needs to hear.’ Girls are taught from the age of seven that if you get a compliment, you don’t go, ‘Thank you’, you go, ‘No, you’re insane.’”

— Lena Dunham (x)

(Source: mylittlebookofquotes, via emmysafari)

2:37 am  51,551 notes

Jenny holzer In a dream you saw a way to survive and you were full of joy.

3:40 pm  37,529 notes



Echoes of the voices in the high towers all wounds explained, here all knives bandaged, all empires arrested, all castles unbuilt, all hearts unbroken.
Robert Montgomery


8:20 am  8,845 notes

“Nobody wanted your dance,
Nobody wanted your strange glitter, your floundering
drowning life and your effort to save yourself,
treading water, dancing the dark turmoil,
looking for something to give.”

Ted Hughes, Birthday Letters (via splitterherzen)

(via alonesomes)

3:40 pm  1,860 notes

12:48 pm  1,227 notes

8:20 am  1,123 notes