The house is settling
and it sounds like someone
is home. No one is
except for me, but lately
I am less person
and more observer,
more ghost than girl.
🐝 save the bees
🌳 save the trees
🌊 save the seas
And oh does the love I have for you surpass every other rational thought in my head.
You’re not over exaggerating. You’re not too sensitive. You’re not too much. If it hurts you it fucking hurts you. If it makes you angry, then it makes you angry. There’s nothing wrong with you for feeling.
(via premeditation)
Here’s to the addicts, the imbalanced, and the creeps. I too reside in the belly of the beast.
September Scar
September’s scars
Dance like black silhouettes
Underneath these April stars.
What the mind has forgotten
Is uncovered in the dark.
Don’t think I’ve forgotten
I can still point to where you are.
You left me at my coldest
My dear September scar.
The Weather Today
A passive haze that I must remark:
it sits lightly
on the bricks of civilization,
not looming,
but kindly descending,
as if the bricks crave the luminous touch.
Trees are sparsely affected,
standing firmly
against the grey film
(which is not saying much);
the trees avoid smothering.
Elevation in the distance:
an earthy aura of envy,
like sky-scrapers, only of natural accord;
they are engulfed by the grey layers,
an inconvenience that could only be avoided by destruction of prominence.
And again, below the point of disturbance,
the bricks are full of ravaging thirst,
an impatience accomplished by constant disappointment;
a period of waiting kindled by the mundane,
and an envy, that reigns, for the ascended.