Twenty Six Scribbles

I have always wanted to be a poem, but they told me that the closest I can get is poet, so I am trying to become one of those instead. You are looking at my best attempt.

September 15, 2014 8:16 am
"Sometimes, carrying on, just carrying on, is the superhuman achievement."

Albert Camus, The Fall (via elegancethroughsimplicity)

(Source: larmoyante, via coffeepeople)

8:12 am
"I’m sick to death of being the heavy in everybody’s life."

J.D. Salinger (via sunst0ne)

(via sunst0ne)

8:07 am
"How odd I can have all this inside me and to you it’s just words."

David Foster Wallace, The Pale King (via sunst0ne)

(via sunst0ne)

8:02 am
"Letting go. Everyone talks about it like it’s the easiest thing. Unfurl your fingers one by one until your hand is open. But my hand has been clenched into a fist for three years now; it’s frozen shut."

Gayle Forman, Where She Went (via quotes-shape-us)
8:01 am
"I’m not much but I’m all I have."

Philip K. Dick, Martian Time-Slip (via teenager90s)
5:42 am

Letter To Myself, From My Depression

Don’t be like that.
You’ve been talking to your family again, haven’t you?
What did I tell you about talking to them?
They just want to tear us apart,
They don’t understand us;
Where were they when things got bad?
Was it them that cradled your body in the middle of the night
That laid beside you in bed when you could not move
That bought you all the long sleeved shirts
That did not judge you for staring at the ceiling for hours on end
That never once asked you to speak
That did not flinch at the sight of you?
It was me, everything was me,
I am the only one that didn’t abandon you

Don’t do this to us.
You’ve been taking the pills again, haven’t you?
When will you understand that you’ll never be good enough for them
No matter how many bottles you swallow?
I am the only one that really loves you,
If they loved you then they wouldn’t be trying to change you,
They wouldn’t be paying doctors to fix you and drug you,
I am the only one that has ever accepted you as you are,
I am as good as you are ever going to get,
No one has stayed long once they saw who you truly are,
No one is ever going to stay,
I will always be here
I am all you have now

You can’t get rid of me that easily.
You may have cut your hair and moved to a different state
But I know every molecule of you,
I know you better than you know you,
Did you honestly think you could run from me?
Did you honestly think you could survive without me?
I am the best thing that ever happened to you,
I made you interesting;
Do you honestly think anyone would give a damn about your poems
If it wasn’t for me?
I’m the only reason you’re worth anything at all
People don’t like you, they like your sob story,
They like knowing they aren’t the most pathetic person in the room,
I will make you a martyr;
Artists are always more popular after they’re dead;
Turn off the light.
Come back to bed.
No one will even notice you’re gone.

September 10, 2014 9:48 pm

kiss her and tell her she tastes like stardust,

and watch her shake her head
and tell you that she carries graveyards in her collarbones.
hear her when she tells you her kisses taste like dead dreams
and wilted flowers and too much blood from biting her lips
and your metaphors will never force anything beautiful to grow out of her skin.

kiss her again, anyway,
and tell her that the universe never needed pretty words from the mouth of a young boy to become
something magnificent.
it already was.


A Story A Day #7 by r.b (via rbcages)

(via rbcages)

9:42 pm
"Tell me all the secrets
that you have always
felt the need to keep
to yourself. Wrap your
words around the lines
of my palms; I promise
to always keep them
safe. If you let me,
I swear to love every
side of you that remains

Mariah Gordon-Dyke (via teenager90s)
9:40 pm
"You brave, brave thing.
One day, you’re going to
stop leaving the door open
for people who only know how
to keep leaving."

 Yasmin Z, We’re All Still Learning (via teenager90s)
September 6, 2014 10:38 pm
"She holds her hair up with only two chopsticks and a bobby pin.
Think Atlas. Think shoulders.
When your sadness starts to feast,
she carries the light down from the
mountain and hands it to you,
tells you to set it on fire.
Think Prometheus. Think savior.
On Sunday, she steps out of the shower and you don’t think you’ve ever seen anything more beautiful than the way she walks towards you with a towel on her head, water clinging to her like there is
nowhere else it would rather be.
Think Aphrodite. Think sea foam.
You love her like mythology.
You love her like the impossible stories of Gods and monsters.
When she sings, think fairies.
Think mermaids. Think hymns.
She is the face of the river that
Narcissus fell in love with,
confusing hers for his own.
She is Medusa’s fury,
Athena’s strength,
Achelois’ healing.
You are kissing her in a crowded
restaurant and it feels like praying.
You are watching her instead of the
meteor shower
and you don’t even notice."

Mythology | Caitlyn Siehl  (via secrethistorys)

(via verrloren-reblogs)