i am a bouquet of roses in the trash
trying on a metaphor

blake kathryn
DEAR READER
Three Goblin Art

if i look back, i am lost

@theartofmadeline
todays bird
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wallacepolsom
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

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shark vs the universe
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Janaina Medeiros
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@typewrittenthoughts
i am a bouquet of roses in the trash

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good night, sleep bravely and deeply
when i was little, i played in my closet more than my actual bedroom.
i was just practicing.
2017 mood
Things you donât have to apologize for
the way you feel about something
not wanting to do something that makes uncomfortable
saying sorry too much
not wearing makeup/being dressed up/doing your hair
caring about somethingÂ
not being happy
crying
needing helpÂ
asking for attention
putting yourself first sometimesÂ
your feelings!!Â

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literature meme: [1/9] Quotes
 âIn the darkness of my dark-beating heart, I know. Heâd have loved it, all right. You see? Even death has a heart.â - Markus Zusak // The book thief
i wonder what MY smell is????? when people wear my clothes or sleep in my bedâŚ..what does it smell like?! WHAT IS MY SCENT
You're asexual? But...
âbut sex is what makes us human!â
 in 1916 a French officer in his twenties writes his
doctoral dissertation under
heavy mortar fire.
he sends it by mail, a page
at a time, to his wife.
a week before heâs to step up to the podium and
defend his work rather than hiscountry
he is killed in action.
even as the bullets rip
through him he still wishes he could have become a professor
in French literature and
the university awards him a posthumous Ph.D.
sex is
 a woman breaks down in tears on the phone because
a week is not enough time to
get over a breakup.
her sister drives an hour across town,
comes up the front steps with
a gallon of ice cream and somebeer
and together they eat moose tracks and marathon
every
single
Godzilla movie
ever made.
 sex is
sheâs late for work but her car isnât
starting and even through her coat and hat sheâs cold.
she knows she canât be late again because sheâs missed
one time too many already because her
fatherâs nurse was sick with the flu and someone
needed to help him bathe.
the clock ticks past fifteen after and she hits
the wheel like itâs a heavy bag as though that will help
steps on the gas like the car will go
and wonders how she will pay rent
and how she will feed her father.
sex is
 it takes three people to hold the predator down because
even with the cover over his head
a bleeding eye and shattered wing
he is trying to hurt them.
none of them have seen this bird before in their lives but
they bandage his wing and head and give him a painkiller and
put him in a warm place to sleep and heal because
it is right.
at first he is paralyzed and cannot
fly but soon he is taking steps
and then fluttering, and then soaring, and
six months later he is whole and healed and hunting.
once he is gone they never see him again
which means theyâve done their jobs right.
sex is
 in 1969 a girl watches grey-and-white footage on her parentsâ tiny television and
canât quite believe that what she is seeing is not a movie set but
another planet.
the men on the screen look a little like
aliens with bulbous heads and no faces and fat
marshmallow arms
but they are still men.
her mother puffs on a cigarette behind her and declares that
this is progress
even if it was just a small step.
the girl grows up to be not an astronaut but a secretary
and her boss calls her âsweetheartâ.
but sex is
 a boy is taught that real men donât cry so
he doesnât.
when his best friend dies from a self-inflicted
gunshot wound, he locks himself
in the shower every day and sobs under scalding
water until it runs cold
so nobody will see him grieving
so nobody will see that tears are just love that
has no place left to go.
he learns to dull love rather than suppress its expression and
soon the owner of the liquor store knows him by name.
three DUIs, two evictions, and twelve steps later,
he is feeding people at a homeless shelter,
and telling them itâs all right to cry.
Sex is
 the broken man tells the comedian
that he didnât mean to step in front of the car but the rain
made it hard to see.
he seems okay but his leg
does not.
the comedian clutches a grubby receipt with the driverâs
plate number scrawled on the back
in pink pen, stands out in the rain so the broken man
can have his umbrella,
and gives him the comedy routine that ruined his career
so the man doesnât think about the pain in his leg.
once heâs out of the hospital, the fixed man sends him a thank-you card
with kittens on it.
what makes us human
 yawning is contagious,
and there is a species of bird whose young we call âpufflingsâ.
melodic collections of sound, spaced by silence,
can move us to tears.
the tallest building in the world is
two-thousand seven-hundred and seventeen feet tall.
in less than eighty years we went from our first powered flight
to touching the moon,
and in one-hundred from the first phone call
to instantaneous connection between thinking machines of our own creation.
we make pies out of tree organs
and let cowâs milk ferment until it hardens and then
we put them together, because apple pie with cheddar cheese is delicious.
what makes us human is
the earliest fossils of anatomically modern humans are
two-hundred thousand years old .
we have had pet dogs
for sixteen-thousand of those years, longer
than corn
or the wheel.
the steps we take are part of
one of the most energy-efficient gaits the
animal kingdom has ever seen.
we invented the concepts of love
and hate
and justice, and mercy
and we invented the language to convey them.
we sharpened rocks, then metal, to convince other people
who donât hold the same idea of those things as we do
because we think
itâs right.
we are two hundred millennia of love and disappointment and
sorrow and innovation and
mercy and kindness and dreams
and failure
and recovery.
but sex is what makes us human.

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If you're fifteen or older an still sleep with a stuffed animal please reblog this.
there are people who are rays of sunshine, cherry blossoms, vanilla candles and the colors of dusk.
there are people who are marble floors, roman temples, black ink and the smell of the earth after rain.
there are people who are star-gazing, holding your breath, little smiles, subtle touches and soft fabric.
who are you?
Draw the queen having a tea party with stuffed animals all in funny hats
I want to fill a hundred photo albums with memories of adventures with you

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au where Iâm productive