Salinyay-blog - Bananafish

please could you be tender and I will sit close to you let’s give it a minute before we admit that we’re through

hard feelings/ loveless, lorde

I’d rather be in the mountains thinking of God than in church thinking about the mountains.

John Muir (via wordsthat-speak)

exposed, tortured, ecstatic—

Denise Levertov, from Sands of the Well: Poems; “Unaccompanied,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

There is a beautiful sorrow in turning your back to something you once loved, and smiling.

KPK (via ipoetried)

the things we learn right before midnight

what’s keeping you from sleeping?

nothing. i’m just not ready to hit the sack.

why’s that?

you really want to know?

yep.

okay. but i don’t want you to think i’m crazy or leave this bed running, alright?

i wouldn’t do that.

right. okay. hmm. so, 24 years ago, on the eve of my birth, my mom decided to deliver her child in a graveyard. the city’s farthest most forgotten graveyard. she’s an artist, though; a lover of contrasts & a chaser of the dark.

oh

july 21st, lost in the depths of a summer night amid traces of grief, sorrow & dried petals, my mum gave birth to a baby she’d almost immediately hold between her arms. i don’t remember this of course, but i’ve been told she murmured:

‘hey, little one. i need you to think of death as your friend. a mutual. an ally. a confident.’

from that day on - my entire life, basically- i’ve never slept before midnight.

i stay still by the side of my bed, patiently waiting for my oldest friend to come sit by my side.

once he shows up, we tell each other how life treated us that day in our own sides of the realm.   we then hold hands & together, we end the life of yet another day.

- @skinthepoet

My friend makes me a mix CD and it’s the only thing that will keep me both  grounded and above ground for the next few weeks. But,  I don’t know this yet. Right now, all I know is that I must’ve walked through a fist fight in my sleep – I have the bruises, the bloodshed, but none of the glory. All I know is that I am a week of my worst days doused in gasoline. And somewhere, someone is standing with a matchbox in hand, waiting.

A.Y. // STARTING FIRES (via 2wentysixletters)

I’m currently rereading Life On Mars by T.K Smith & I swear my feet might be grounded in this old city but my head is somewhere in between a burning star & the edge of a distant galaxy.