(Source: witlovesyou, via windblownwhispers)
"Cautiously, I allowed myself to feel good at times. I found moments of peace in cheap rooms just staring at the knobs of some dresser or listening to the rain in the dark. The less I needed, the better I felt."
- Charles Bukowski, Let it Enfold You (via heavydrug)
(Source: honey-mint, via m-n-e-m-o-g-e-n-i-c)
Seize the dew while you’re young.
I miss being seventeen and holding her hand
As we sprinted in the shadows
being brunette nocturnal nymphets
All elastic skin and stomach and leg,
leaping, treading
Giggling soft like moonlight.
I miss stealing the keys, the cars, the cigarettes
And driving without beams for fear of being found.
While the world slept on their brow beaten pillows,
We used to run away
Only to return with dewy eyelashes and pink cheeks
Chapped lips from kissing fingertips
Stale donuts, coffee, and bare feet
Everything smelling like youth and abandon
Our secret freedom reflected in dawn’s first flutter of petals and lemon clouds lined with blue
The same shade as under our laugh worn curtained eyes.
I miss being seventeen and living without consequence
Without sleep
Feeling ecstatic, the purest bindless blindest joy
bounding for the heavens bouncing off of gravel hopes
And living Carpe Rorem.
I think the real question is why should a girl shave, preen and diet herself into oblivion for a guy in sweatpants and a t shirt who hasn’t trimmed his pubes in 3 years
PREACH
(via backtowoodstock)
After the storm
Homeless bodies bobbed with the tide
Like disintegrating paper lanterns
The morning after a wedding on the shore.
That evening, at dusk,
Phosphorescent phytoplankton
Mimicked the lanterns’ old embers
And echoed the bodies’ lost glow.
But between the vestal sky and luminous sea
Only the water’s ebb and flow broke the illusion of a perfectly mirrored world
Where timelessness pocked the darkness with brilliant hope.
