You're in ParadiseIt was quiet, then. So silent and wisping away fleeting anticipations And dampening of my intuitions. You used to whisper words of invitation But now you close your eyes at night to build a better black, a deeper darkness.You're in Paradise
I thought I had rendered you heartless – Carved in the etches and scraped off the edges with scissors Dripping with wax. Puzzles and confusion You are the remedy, the solution To what I had thought was a simple absolution.
Your days in the sun have become only One in time to overlook blooming poppy se
We Built a HouseThese frequencies hurt. They dance across the world, too high to feel, and too low to have everything within its grasp weightlessly floating beneath stars that used to be ours.We Built a House
You are the feeling beneath my ribcage, between my ribs,, and
you take the wind right out of my lungs. I feel each atmosphere, every novocaine breath. They feel nothing. I feel each movement, every shift since we’ve met but they see nothing.
If I could floss my arteries with your hair vigorously, and sufficiently, maybe then I’d be
ExcavationNever has a doubt seeped in. Though there is much to respond, they exceedingly give in - out. Every sigh is spent. They are not enough.Excavation
Though there are few, they are dedicated. Rushing through sandy sap and glue, Giving up, and holding on. They are not enough.
Around every crevice, you sigh. Their hands on your hands Their hands on your face. They are there, building, and everyday, stacking. They’re a peaceful outrage, stowing productions of sowing satin into my skin.
They drop pearls into water and diamonds into milk. &n
This figment is fragmented...I've decided to call this progress.This figment is fragmented...
Every second that passes,
every moment spent waiting.
Eventually,
my memory will fade
or yours will return
and, in either case,
no one will ever be able
to tell the difference.
I once heard you sum up my entire life
in a sentence. I once saw you move your hands
and make a million reasons
to fall in love.
Eventually,
time fills itself up
and overflows.
(We do not run out of time;
time runs out of us.)
You close your eyes
and I'll shut m
| The world is beautiful. My longing to see all of it never stops aching. |
delite
xo!
xo!
--
' '' ' ''' ' ''''' ' '' ' '''''
--
Show us all what grace could mean
All of what I might be
Close your eyes, come and escape
We'll run away from everything
xo!
xo!
xo!
--
Show us all what grace could mean
All of what I might be
Close your eyes, come and escape
We'll run away from everything
--
"Spirituality means waking up, Many of us, even though we don't know it, are asleep. We're born asleep, we live asleep, we marry in our sleep, we breed children in our sleep, we die in our sleep without ever waking up."
De Mello'
--
I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
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