“And Lot’s wife, of course, was told not to look back where all those people and their homes had been. But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human.
So she was turned to a pillar of salt. So it goes.”
- Kurt Vonnegut Slaughterhouse Five
No amount of tears and snow and urgency
making love, crying out for your sad peter pan shadow,
vodka and sleep and pear blossom,
graveyard gutter poetry sitting in the bottom of my bathtub like chewed-on petals and soap dolls,
bubbles that tickle my nose
remind me of dear lonely starfish
drug comas and numb lips and puppy kisses,
Yeats would have my head
Nothing
can make these memories begin to scab or whimper or fall away
They are eating me
While I watch
Helpless
I swallowed my tongue
Often when I imagine you
your wholeness cascades into many shapes.
You run like a herd of luminous deer
and I am dark, I am forest.—Rilke, The Book of Hours I (via starmaps)
(Source: frenchtwist)
(Source: halfasiangirlproblems, via emotional-baggage)
Just really like herbs? Add some fucking herbs.
(especially basil, cilantro, and mint)
P.S. Some of those are NOT HERBS.
(Source: dancequeen1284, via thedevilspanties)
A mermaid found a swimming lad,
Picked him for her own,
Pressed her body to his body,
Laughed; and plunging down
Forgot in cruel happiness
That even lovers drown.
- W. B. Yeats, The Mermaid
(Source: cordisre, via boyzinthahood)
