the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.there’s no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.nobody ever finds
the one.the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fillnothing else
fills.
(Source: hellanne)
Mental pain is less dramatic than physical pain, but it is more common and also more hard to bear. The frequent attempt to conceal mental pain increases the burden: it is easier to say ‘My tooth is aching’ than to say ‘My heart is broken.’
Photographs taken inside musical instruments making them look like large and spacious rooms.
(Source: jakiiiro)
As long as you live, there’s always something waiting; and even if it’s bad, and you know it’s bad, what can you do? You can’t stop living.
(Source: saoil)
The rain is full of ghosts tonight.
(Source: its-krystal-bitch)
Miss someone until they come back, or until you come back, until their absence in your life becomes something to be avoided at all costs. Miss them until you don’t have to anymore, until you’re reunited in your favorite booth in your favorite restaurant ordering your favorite meal, miss them until it feels like you never left. Or miss them until you can’t anymore, until the things you miss are identified and cataloged as things and not a person, until you figure out that easy company and long talks and unblinking, all-knowing eye contact will find you again the way they found you the first time. Miss someone until you don’t.
(Source: hellanne)
To come home from another home is a weird feeling, because people expect you to be the person you were when you left, and that’s impossible. You expect things to be exactly the same as when you left, and that’s impossible. Maybe it’s impossible to even truly come home once you’ve gone away because of those changes. Coming home is strange, because now that place is just a tiny bit less of a home.
(Source: larmoyante)
(Source: stellar-indulgence)
In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.
