& I will be engulfed in nature,
& I will slowly become the earth,
for I have spent a life in waiting
& I won’t leave my place.
(via yosoyelfinal)
When you stop
fretting over
your own scars,
and start
kissing
the scars
of another.
That’s
how you
know.
Poem eleven.
for women who are ‘difficult’ to love.
you are a horse running alone
and he tries to tame you
compares you to an impossible highway
to a burning house
says you are blinding him
that he could never leave you
forget you
want anything but you
you dizzy him, you are unbearable
every woman before or after you
is doused in your name
you fill his mouth
his teeth ache with memory of taste
his body just a long shadow seeking yours
but you are always too intense
frightening in the way you want him
unashamed and sacrificial
he tells you that no man can live up to the one who
lives in your head
and you tried to change didn’t you?
closed your mouth more
tried to be softer
prettier
less volatile, less awake
but even when sleeping you could feel
him travelling away from you in his dreams
so what did you want to do love
split his head open?
you can’t make homes out of human beings
someone should have already told you that
and if he wants to leave
then let him leave
you are terrifying
and strange and beautiful
something not everyone knows how to love.
Something not everyone knows how to love~
So I wait for you like a lonely house ‘til you will see me again and live in me. ‘Til then, my windows ache.
— Pablo Neruda (via daslogbuch)
(via daslogbuch)
I know he’s probably going to hate me but its a chance I had to take; it’s the only way I know I will get his attention so — I stole his saxophone. I was desperate and I know it was wrong but I left him a note: “Dear Jazz Man, share your lips with me instead.”
- Kendra St-Luc (bestie)
♥.
Wow, that is gorgeous.
We two boys together clinging,
One the other never leaving,
Up and down the roads going, North and South excursions making,
Power enjoying, elbows stretching, fingers clutching,
Arm’d and fearless, eating, drinking, sleeping, loving.
No law less than ourselves owning, sailing, soldiering, thieving,
threatening,
Misers, menials, priests alarming, air breathing, water drinking, on
the turf or the sea-beach dancing,
Cities wrenching, ease scorning, statutes mocking, feebleness chasing,
Fulfilling our foray.
One the other never leaving,
Up and down the roads going, North and South excursions making,
Power enjoying, elbows stretching, fingers clutching,
Arm’d and fearless, eating, drinking, sleeping, loving.
No law less than ourselves owning, sailing, soldiering, thieving,
threatening,
Misers, menials, priests alarming, air breathing, water drinking, on
the turf or the sea-beach dancing,
Cities wrenching, ease scorning, statutes mocking, feebleness chasing,
Fulfilling our foray.
— Walt Whitman
➜ warsan shire.: poem eleven
“you can’t make homes out of human beings.”
you can’t make homes out of human beings
someone should have already told you that
and if he wants to leave
then let him leave
you are terrifying
and strange and beautiful
something not everyone knows how to love.*oh my…
*sighs*
“…who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in
the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the
tops of cities contemplating jazz.”
-HOWL, Allen Ginsberg
*sigh*
Beautiful.
untitled (the Quatrains of Omar Khayyam)
Oil On Canvas by Nasrollah Afjei, 2007
(via androphilia)
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh … And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you so quite new
— Edward Estlin Cummings