With maddening hunger
I’d write to the point of suffocation
I’d write myself into nervous breakdowns
Manuscripts spiralling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing
And I’d write about you
a lot more
than I should
Thought Catalog (via enchantinglyricalballads)
This is a great question. I would much rather have notes on my poems. See, when I pass on, I will no longer have my appearance. I never really owned the vessel of my soul to begin with. My poems can live on through my passing. It can bring comfort to those who are lost, to those who knew me or did not. My bones will slowly decay, but the message of my poetry will live on. What is more beautiful than that?
Can someone tell me why some blogs self promote themselves on other people’s poetry? It’s just not right.
I can’t possibly choose a small list of blogs. All of my followers are great for different reasons! I have great friendships with so many people on Tumblr, and they are all my favorites!
I no longer need you to fuck me as hard
as I hate myself.
Make love to me
like you know I am better than the worst thing I ever did.
I’m new to this
but I have seen nearly every city from a rooftop without jumping.
I have realized
that the moon did not have to be full for us to love it.
We are not tragedies
stranded here beneath it.
We Were Emergencies, Buddy Wakefield (via noxtalgic)
John Steinbeck (via souls-entwined)