âI was not in the mood for idle conversation. The day had been ugly & my heart was full of hate for everything human.â
â hunter s thompson
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@letheeos
âI was not in the mood for idle conversation. The day had been ugly & my heart was full of hate for everything human.â
â hunter s thompson

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where are you now? I have knocked on every door, I have sat on every altar, I have prayed to all the gods. where are you now?
Love as an escape / Kinza Zimri
The most beautiful
things are temporary. She knows this now.
She knows this before she knows much else.
â Kayleb Rae Candrilli, from âI Wish All Children Could Touch the Sky at Least Once,â All the Gay Saints
I think we dream so we donât have to be apart for so long. If weâre in each otherâs dreams, we can be together all the time.
A.A. Milne (via quotemadness)

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Dear moon, you were an accident.
Dear heart, you birdcage left at low tide, whatâs living in you is dark and songless.
â Traci Brimhall, from âDear Thanatos,â Come the Slumberless To the Land of Nod
âLove will teach you many things, most of them tragicââ
â Traci Brimhall, from âLullaby on Mount Moriah,â Come the Slumberless To the Land of Nod
I've thought this a lot, and you know, I was the anomaly of your story, the lump that wasn't supposed to appear. You were destined to move away and to meet her, you were supposed to be with her; I, on the other hand, forced myself in without knocking, an unwelcomed gunshot causing a chain of events that weren't in the plan, taking you by utter surprise. I wasn't supposed to enter, it was not in the script, it was not in any script at all. But there I was, smiling at you and showing you, after all these years of melancholy and pain, what bliss felt like. I appeared, not because I was supposed to - i wasn't - but because, you needed to know you were worth loving to smithereens. Maybe that's all I was there for, to show you what it felt like to be in love and out of your mind.
 I am the anomaly, i am all the anomalies - kinza zimri
âThe most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.â
â Ernest HemingwayÂ
âWhat a privilege it was to matter to you.â
â Beau Taplin (via oofpoetry)

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âI loved you, I did, I loved you as good as anybody And Iâll never be sorry This is the place I finally learned what it meant To dance alone to the song you put in my chest Thanks for the symphony I can still hear it when I think of you And it is so much like remembering .â
â The Park, Caitlyn Siehl {what we buried} (Things I felt)
The pain. The pain. The pain.
âI would have loved him in any era, in any dark age; I would take him into the twilight and unwind him, slide my fingers through his hair and pull him to his knees. As it is, this afternoon, late in the twentieth century, I sit on a chair in the kitchen with my keys in my lap, pressing the black button on the answering machine over and over, listening to his message, his voice strung along the wires outside my window where the birds balance themselves and stare off into the trees, thinking even in the farthest future, in the most distant universe, I would have recognized this voice, refracted, as it would be, like light from a small, uncharted star.â
â Dorianne Laux, from âAs It Isâ, What We Carry: Poems
âI am so busy. I am practicing my new hobby of watching me become someone else. There is so much violence in reconstruction. Every minute is grisly, but I have to participate. I am building what I cannot break.â
â Jennifer Willoughby, The Sun is Still a Part of Me

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âI think here I will leave you. It has come to seem there is no perfect ending. Indeed, there are infinite endings. Or perhaps, once one begins, there are only endings.â
â Louise GlĂźck, Faithful and Virtuous Night
âI burned so long and so quiet, you must have wondered if I loved you back. I did, I did, I do.â
â Annelyse Gelman, from âThe Pillowcaseâ in Everyone I Love is a Stranger to Someone (via alonesomes)