Brooklyn Olivia Fahey

— brooklyn o'fahey, "the aesthetics of impermanence."

— brooklyn o'fahey, "please."

— brooklyn o'fahey

james islington, "the strength of the few."

— brooklyn o'fahey

— v.e. schwab, "vengeful."

i ferment beneath ripe hope. the sun is half sky, warming my lemonade. it once warned me and i did not listen, for i am its cousin. you couldn't pay me to care. the caress of summer, once again, thickens the lining in my throat. the cough invites a stutter, as the bull of my temperament spots a crimson blanket wind-struck on the ledge of a balcony. red blotches appear alongside my palm. i want to knock on the porch door of an open house and ask if there is any toilet paper in the basement. i look up at the clouds, send love letters to a mailboxless moon and sulk about not being written back. he etches his hips with that borrowed light and as i once muttered: when is there an end to the change of you? when is the laundry on the rusting fishline finally relieved of its chronic wetness? i am perplexed at where you want to go. if the horizon does not suffice, i fear i cannot offer you a second one

— brooklyn o'fahey, "the aesthetics of impermanence."

— brooklyn o'fahey, "the aesthetics of impermanence."

"love / twisted around her tightly / like a burn / traveling from / the face / to the eye / a lightning / she tried to / survive" — brooklyn o'fahey

— leonard cohen, "let us compare mythologies."

it is! haha, try it

— brooklyn o'fahey, "fck"

have a good day besties

— Fernando Pessoa, "the book of disquiet."

would you enjoy a slice of reality alongside your cup of rainwater? i attempt to be ok but you want so much more for me