austere

in between words

  • 17th April
    2014
  • 17
  • 17th April
    2014
  • 17
  • 17th April
    2014
  • 17
  • 17th April
    2014
  • 17
this is it, isn’t it?
this is where our love rusts and chips away
as new lovers dare to touch our skin.
this is where our love grows cobwebs and
only the spiders’ prey remember the way
we bloomed.
only dying creatures know who we were now.
the dead bury the dead
and I swear our love was the most beautiful corpse
I ever had to bury.
  • 17th April
    2014
  • 17
The piano is still here,
but your hands are gone with the rest of you.
I almost taped your face to the milk carton
because breakfast is empty without you sipping your tea,
and this is the only place I know to put
missing people.
I watch the children on the five o’clock news
grow into adults by eleven o’clock,
except now they’re on the other side of the line-up.
Everyday, a mother loses her child ,
and it’s always for a different reason.
I don’t know what it’s like to get lost accidentally
because my whole life I’ve been doing it on purpose.
What a privilege it is to choose to be hidden
when most people can’t even find themselves.
This poem is bleeding,
so that means you must be kissing someone new.
It’s okay, you can go home now. You don’t need excuses.
I understand if the island you are sinking your
feet into is softer than I was,
but I never meant to be something you
could stand on to get taller.
There is a cup of tea waiting here for you on the counter,
and it’s vanishing as we speak.
I’m not making another one for a while.
I guess you’ll just
have to disappear in someone else’s house
next time.
Y.Z, A trick of the three o’clock light (via rustyvoices)

(via iloveffdp00)

  • 16th April
    2014
  • 16
The story of us goes like this:
I was always dry timber and
you were rocks rubbed close
together; you were always the
poisonous mushroom I was
too hungry not to eat. I used
to tell everyone that two
spoons of sugar made
everything easier, that you
were like medicine and I just
had a few more doses but
you knew I shook without
you. I always thought addiction
looked like dark circles and
track marks but sometimes it
looks like a burnt tongue from
a name screamed too often.
anne, don’t leave me, don’t leave me (please leave me)

(via iloveffdp00)

  • 16th April
    2014
  • 16
  • 16th April
    2014
  • 16
  • 16th April
    2014
  • 16
  • 16th April
    2014
  • 16
  • 15th April
    2014
  • 15
  • 15th April
    2014
  • 15
  • 15th April
    2014
  • 15
  • 15th April
    2014
  • 15
  • 28th December
    2013
  • 28