@inkskinned On Tumblr/ “intimacy” By Angelica Alzona / “the Leavetaking; Poems: 1913-1956” By

ghada al-samman // little women, louisa may alcott // howl’s moving castle, hayao miyazaki // the inferno, henri barbusse // the book thief, markus zusak // a letter to louise webb, charles bukowski // anastasia, don bluth & gary goldman // primer for the nuclear age, rita dove // san francisco poems or letters to jack, cathy linh che // night and day, virginia woolf

                                   Everyone is a monster to someone.                             Since you are so convinced that I am yours,                                                       I will be it.

James Baldwin, from If Beale Street Could Talk Florence and the Machine, from Various Storms & Saints Simone de Beauvoir, from a letter to Jean-Paul Sartre Fernando Pessoa, from The Book of Disquiet

Heart imagery by Andrea Zanatelli Eye with Tear (oil paint and resin tear on canvas) by Nancy Fouts Douleur d'amour (detail) by William-Adolphe Bouguereau

“& my body is a wall so thin you could miss it so wide it cuts the world in half & out the light you stumble touch yourself gently & enough.”

— Danez Smith, from “For the Dead Homie,” published in The Fight and the Fiddle (via lifeinpoetry)

“We are all the dead. I am not apart from you for long, except for breath, except for everything.”

— Forgotten Portraits by Janine Solursh (via decreation)

i would do anything you want me to

@emptystic // nothing but thieves “lover please stay” // richard siken “planet of love” // normal people (2020) // emily palermo “what i could never confess without some bravado” // phoebe bridgers“moon song” // phoebe bridgers “graceland too” // elisabeth hewer “dove hands” // roger rossel “caitlin ciara and rominuse” // normal people (2020) // stephen adly guirgis “the last days of judas iscariot”

“And maybe home isn’t where it used to be. And maybe that’s okay. We build our own houses as we grow older and they don’t always have four walls.”

— (via c0ntemplations)

𝙵𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝟷𝟹, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟺 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟺-𝟷𝟿𝟸𝟹

collection of posts for a very specific dynamic

when margaret atwood said “i'm sorry there is so much pain in this story” and richard siken said “there is no other version of this story” and mary oliver said “you don’t want to hear the story of my life, and anyway, i don’t want to tell it”