A small man stood at the end of my deserted driveway. He held his posture all day. Faceless and concrete, the Wonderful Stranger stood. At least I could trust his ever-constant nature and believe he meant what he was implying. Simple implications. The Wonderful Stranger. - A man I always knew. A man I never met.
April 19th A new day, a new page; poems scribbled on fresh, empty pages. Breathe.
The only thing worse than a boy who hates you. A boy who loves you.– Markus Zusak, The Book Thief (via neverending-paradox)
The night I opened up my veins the doctor who stitched me up asked me if I did...– Andrea Gibson; I Sing The Body Electric, Especially When My Power’s Out
You should know that there is something worse than hate and that is unlove. ...– I Wrote This For You
You have until the hour you die to do everything you’ve ever really wanted to do...– The Eventual Ghost - I wrote this for you (via awanderlustjourney)
You know how you let yourself think that everything will be all right if you can...– Richard Adams, Watership Down
A human being in perfection ought always to preserve a calm and peaceful mind...– Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
It is so long before the mind can persuade itself that she whom we saw every day...– Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
My temper was sometimes violent, and my passions vehement; but by some law in my...– Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
I was their plaything and their idol, and something better—their child, the...– Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
April 15th Lemons and apples, acidic to the mouth. April 16th What kills me the most is how naive I was. A child with eyes closed shut. April 17th A scorpion’s tail cannot compare with the sting of reality. April 18th Grits and fried eggs are the epitome of a near- perfect breakfast. Yum!
Okay… I’m done obsessing for now…
No matter where our footsteps wander. I know we’ll both be all alone. With the...– Hank Williams Sr- “A House Without Love” (via zeros-and-ones-are-everything)
jailbot: the sound of silence - simon &...
April 11th The interaction of people. Words spread and tossed— flames eating at trees. April 12th Electrifying is your stare. Bolts surge down my spine and flames tickle. April 13th Let’s not rush our lives, dear, but savor each morsel. Life—ephemeral. April 14th Nail polish fading— but not you. Memories are bittersweet indeed.
Let me be something every minute of every hour of my life…And when I sleep, let...– Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn