“ I look at tornadoes fighting their way into existence
and your name doesn’t come to mind,
I only see myself,
desperately looking for inspiration
Just to spill ink
on old blank pages
I look at trees, and they look back,
they feel sorry for me,
as if telling me that I can cut and scratch them all I want,
and I still won’t get my heart to you, I still won’t write as well as I want to.
For the sake of the question,
why nights are more inspirational,
why we only see ourselves in stars,
we underestimate the sun
we glorify darkness, we forget light,
Light can be sad too
Light can be more lonely than darkness,
if you listen to its silence,
Light can be agonizing,
if you want it. ”
“ Birds scream at the top of their lungs in horrified hellish rage every morning at daybreak to warn us all of the truth, but sadly we don’t speak bird. ”
“ Write child, write.
Technique is but the Greek word for art,
It lives within us all. ”
“ I am rain.
I am thunder.
I am lighting.
I am severe.
I will spin up a tornado of questions in your mind until you are dancing in a shower of everything you never wanted to hear. ”
— I will make you forget that you ever loved the sun. (via because-she-loves-words)
“ Someday I’ll wish you the best. ”
“ Who taught you
that getting your
was a beautiful thing?
Do not get
the two things
for there is no beauty
in falling apart. ”
“ I was reading.”
“You’re always reading. The only way people can ever talk to you is to interrupt.”
“Then maybe they shouldn’t talk to me. ”
You looked like a promise needing to be kept,
and I guess that’s why my mother always told me
not to judge a book by its cover.