Theburdenedhearse - ⭒⋆☽ Crowdi ☾⋆⭒

 In spite of her money

and her evening fur coat

 I did not envy her riches

nor her Brazilian wooded boat.

 I did not envy her dress

at the scarlet evening mass

 nor did I dazzle- upon her watch

and watch the hands tickle pass.

 I did not wish to be greeted

before everyone else, by the host

 nor given fine wine by paid actors

addressing me with titles, worthy of a boast!

 The glowing eyes of those waiters

who wished the be the money they served

 who wished to wear those sharp trimmed suits

instead of handing out hors d'oeuvres.

 I see the moths- the men and girls

that flutter, in dim light

 with their royal, east egg money

those rich red parties, warm summer nights.

 I see blue eyes, I see sinners

we watch them drink away.

 We do not envy their scarlet coats

nor their drunken, wasted days.

i hate sitting on the floor it makes me feel so homeschooled

gonna need a second coffee table for all these coffee table books

ok what's everyone's favorite cowboy hat

a spit take isnt enough i need some pearls to clutch

snoopy is back at it again eating 37 human femurs, merry christmas everyone

there is too much music i need to listen to. i cannot bear it. there are so many albums and every time i find an album there is another album and then another album and then a bunch of singles and then another reddit post titled "greatest punk album of the year?" and suddenly it has 326 comments naming a bunch of punk albums i need to listen to, and of course all the comments say completely different bands, and so now i go listen to one of the albums and suddenly im going down a rabbit hole of their glorious music and i simply do not have the time to go listen to all the other 325 albums from that reddit post, and much less time to go scavenge the internet archive for 60s garage bands but if i do not find a way to listen to every single music in the world i will cry. life is hard man

~Lovely~

(a poem)

the glory of the morning, to lay flowers across her arms my fingers absentmindedly drumming a soft melody on her shoulder the timing correlates with the swooning beat of my mortal heart, the one which i gifted to her long ago she has mine, and in turn i am lucky enough to have hers she is mine, she is lovely, how i love her i rise to stand and observe my work azaleas trace the side of her frame reaching once again to the wicker basket, i carefully surround her face with cosmos weaving gardenias and jasmine through the tourmaline umber of her hair resisting the urge to comb my hand through, lest i disturb her rest a bolt of raw affection surges through me; lowering myself onto my knees, i press a kiss to her hand she is lovely, how i love her a yellow daffodil is soon tucked behind her left ear, with a pink one mirroring behind her right the enamored sigh that escapes me is one the world has heard thousands of times, but this wont be the last instance in which it occurs interlocking her hand in mine, i place seven violets above her heart her eyes flutter open, content but curious, and i bring my lips to hers how i love her oh, how i love her so

seriously yall if your kids have to share every single opinion that you have society never changes