Vilyuchik Volcano, Russia by Aleksei Kretov
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Vilyuchik Volcano, Russia by Aleksei Kretov

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“When I first started writing, I hated myself for being so uncertain, about images, clauses, ideas, even the pen or journal I used. Everything I wrote began with maybe and perhaps and ended with I think or I believe. But my doubt is everywhere, Ma. Even when I know something to be true as bone I fear the knowledge will dissolve, will not, despite my writing it, stay real. I’m breaking us apart again so that I might carry us somewhere else.”
— Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous: A Novel
Mary Oliver, "From The Book of Time." Devotions
By vansonnn

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You take my hand in your hand from you flowers grow And you understand with every seed you sow you make this cold world beautiful.
Florence Welch, “Patricia”, from Useless Magic: Lyrics and Poetry. Photographs by Tom Beard; Patti Smith at Chelsea Hotel, 1971, photographed by Dave Gahr.
29 June marks two years since the release of High as Hope.
Rules for Visiting, Jessica Francis Kane
“She is the cause of the rain. She could not stop weeping and the sky obliged to follow.”
— Patti Smith, from Written By a Lake
María José Candela, The Unlikely Story of the Body Who Loved the World

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Cliff-top Flowers
Anne Sexton, from “The Truth the Dead Know”, The Complete Poems of Anne Sexton
14 Lines From Love Letters Or Suicide Notes
(reposted by request. cheers.)
14 Lines From Love Letters Or Suicide Notes.
1. Don’t freak out.
2. We both know this has been coming for a long time.
3. I have been staying awake at nights, wondering if I should tell you.
4. I bought the kind of crackers you like. They are in the hall cupboard.
5. Now that we have watched all the episodes of True Blood, I do not know what else to do next.
6. I have just been too afraid for too long.
7. This is the kind of thing where waiting for the time to be right would just mean waiting forever; it’s the kind of thing no one else can help you decide.
8. I came home on Thursday and found all of the chairs in the house stacked in a pile in the center of my kitchen; I don’t know how long they have been like that, but it must have been me that did it. It is the kind of thing a ghost might do, to prove to the living he is still there. I am haunting my own apartment.
9. My grandmother was still alive when I was five years old and she told me to check if the iron was hot enough yet, so I pressed my hand against it, and it was red and screaming for hours. Twenty five years later she would still sometimes apologize, in the middle of conversations, I feel so bad about making you touch the iron, she would say, as though it had just happened. I cannot imagine how we forgive ourselves for all of the things we didn’t say until it was too late. But how else do you tell if something is hot but to touch it?
10. I imagine my furniture in your apartment.
11. I wonder how many likes it will get on facebook.
12. My dad always used to tell the same joke, but I can’t remember the punch line.
13. I was eight years old and it took three weeks (three eight year old weeks— imagine) to gather everything I needed to be Batman. Rope, boomerangs, a mardi gras mask with the beads cut off. I couldn’t find a cave near my house, so I buried them all in a bundle under the ivy. For years after,
I tried to find that spot again.
The ivy grew too fast.
I searched in so many spots
it seemed impossible I had missed any.
But I never found it.
How can something be there
and then just not be there?
How do we forgive ourselves
for all the things we did not become?
14. I was never bold enough to buy bright green sheets. I wanted them, but always thought they were too brash, even with no one but me to see them. I bought a set yesterday and put them on the bed. I knew that you would like them. —-
the kings men, nora sakavic / virginia woolf to vita sackville-west, 1928 / saw you in a dream, the japanese house / work song, hozier / mad girl’s love song, sylvia plath / blue lily lily blue, maggie stiefvater

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Source.
“Angels, come breathe with me.”
— Mary Szybist, from Invitation