February 2012
4 posts
3 tags
Follow your passions
To writers and those who believe: I have read before of writer’s that would pack up and leave to delve only into writing, reading, and sharpening their craft. I would wish that for myself but never thought I would have the courage to do so. Not very long ago something in me cracked, not a little crack, it was a force that broke me in two; completely shook me. I knew that I had come to...
Feb 23rd
5 notes
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My womb screams bloody murder My legs twitch in the horror of passive yearning warmth I walk down the park and remember your hip bone and your wrists your sighs suddenly blow the autumn leaves vibrations;; the sun melted on your tongue and you reminded me that .love. is more than emotion trembling between two smiling souls.  It is blood, hope, and bones. it is poetry, ink, and words. you are...
Feb 4th
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Feb 2nd
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Feb 1st
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January 2012
33 posts
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your skeleton releases cosmic light pouring Siberian milk into my soul you grow thicker within my abdomen you begin to overflow within me you become one with my blood and there is; blood everywhere. I am a hurricane and you are the ocean; you help me grow and I love you. I find in you the most simplest wonders and the rarest complexities The heart in your eyes sings it’s songs to me and I...
Jan 29th
18 notes
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I miss you so much, my nerves ache. -Rune
Jan 29th
9 notes
4 tags
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it happens that when love plagues, reality does not matter anymore. -Rune
Jan 29th
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Jan 28th
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Jan 28th
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6 tags
Jan 28th
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Jan 28th
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Jan 28th
950 notes
3 tags
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I found you standing on a corner in naked Europe brushed upon your Mayan thoughts. transgressed by your past you wore your cosmic sadness like a transparent cloak amidst a winter breeze; you are an abandoned poem hanging drearily in the cruel light.    all I wanted was to give you the sunshine that was left in a remote innocence within my subconscious; to give you the tissue under my flesh. to...
Jan 27th
21 notes
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ow.
Jan 27th
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Jan 25th
5 notes
3 tags
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I corner slum in the woods of my hands I am rattled beneath these gentle things that pick my hearts like flowers, blooming, tainted too far ahead I might just want to rest my back into those blue waters instead she sings the living are dead this place has ran out of water and ran out of bread my chest is illuminated  hardened and there have grown creases on my forehead you should have believed...
Jan 24th
12 notes
3 tags
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the fortune teller said you would come to me in may she told me I had never really fallen in love she told me to brace myself Byblos is haunted at night with the sound of the ocean and thick ancient stone my heart pounds delightfully  a nervous and chattering thud  removing all trace of control from beneath my  once tough and now childlike fingers I retrace can you handle my truth the terrible...
Jan 24th
6 notes
3 tags
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nobody believed fate reigned on us with its evil parody  your rustic companionship dug into the battlefield of my chest we watched the the girls run into the water, so naked and alive we filled our throats with the sweetest alcohol that night this terror shrieking this vampiric love sickness this tortured defeat smiling so sweetly so silently at me this miscreation this abnormality that rubbed...
Jan 24th
6 notes
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there are banks of nervousness bedding like two little girls playing in gray rain. hushing their laughter so that nobody interrupts  their masked quickening maturity. They grew up too fast. their eyes grew wise too fast, and in them you see the wars that are deeply rooted into the dark caves inside where even the bats  do not dare to move where even the vampires do not dare to hunt where there lay...
Jan 24th
9 notes
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the edges of your face burn like tattered corners of old books on streets that are washed away by tears your fingers symbolize the letters in my poetry blazing like trembling sun rays, glittering in my eyes leaving streaks of yellow intimate memories behind dreamy skin tone ride the waves of soft scents underneath my eye lashes. Breathe. crying laughter upon the golden sky raised by tears and...
Jan 24th
6 notes
3 tags
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Some of the best experience is all in your head. All behind the abstract things you can not touch, behind your windows of sight and underneath the skin of your chest. The greatest love takes place in your deepest imagination, which is why the unfulfilled is the most captivating and thought consuming for it leaves room for the mind to ponder into oceans buried beneath dry lakes of thought you did...
Jan 24th
6 notes
Jan 18th
Jan 17th
6 tags
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We both dreamt wildly of the kind of love that never made it out alive. a love that is more of a creature rather than emotion; that grows within the pits of wombs and starts to eat you to your death. The kind of love that cannot fit in the human body but only in the vast extremity of the abstract soul. So it escapes; in one way or another, to find it’s place in the cosmos with its...
Jan 14th
Jan 13th
Jan 13th
17 notes
Jan 13th
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Jan 13th
1,909 notes
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you see his fingers look mentally broken and the aura surrounding his inflicted pain screams a murderous  asylum tale and there he is sitting on some slum corner in Barcelona staring into that brutal sun while making his wise guitar wail and yes yes you are the one I have chosen over death you are the sunlight falling upon my bare chest you you are my first breath. -Rune
Jan 12th
3 tags
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I dream of your messy hair on monday mornings calling out of work because we had too much wine and the way you turn and the sun hits your shoulders -Rune
Jan 12th
1 tag
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boy: we have been through so much together, stop doing this girl: we went through a lot 5 years ago, you are not what I want anymore and besides you had your chance 5 years ago and you took a knife made out of fucking goblins, ripped my soul open and I had to watch you eat my insides like a monster. You killed me slowly, I had to watch you do that; and then you would smile at me and lie and I had...
Jan 12th
2 notes
Mamihlapinatapei.
you are the toska breeding in me like vicious flowers cannas perhaps lotus or bleeding hearts haunting the excruciating longing in my sinking chest a calming and white haunting  I hear a thud in the middle of my body and it seems that my heart levels itself in between my dimmed ribs so that it may nervously burst in my core to let that beautiful yellow childlike  sun into my body what am I without...
Jan 12th
The season we never saw.
souls made of ivory interlocking with the wisdom of ancient elephants we burn the incense under our thighs and drown in the meaning that we made up for breathing and we drown in the world we created with what society perceives as our corrupt minds my beautiful dying agonies burrying themselves in the castles of great queens of great kings shuffling to hurdle under the homes of the  slaves of...
Jan 12th
Phoenix.
your phoenix eyes  ashes fall like withering words shedding too much detail of your fugitive disastors your heart of prisoners you awake in me lik a crisp dawn on the breaking of ways bringer of sorts and rising of the day. I squint my eyes as I am awoken to your beauty hunter of my mind, excute my loneliness and I will murder your crime. I will terrorize those white monsters in your fingers...
Jan 12th
Ever before.
your  tunic pupils extractions from the sky encircle all that which lays in your deepest masculine eyelashes Im enthralled with your profile meager looks of  hearts dispelled onto something greater than life in its most simplest form you represent everything natural extracted from the very womb of earth I am lost in my own thoughts of my responsibilites as a woman of culture and as an artist will...
Jan 12th
Salty Women.
oh lady let us hold each other and weep about our misfortune together in tears we shall grow the salt in them will cleanse our wounds and make us taller than you will ever know. -Rune
Jan 12th
6 notes
Consumed by wild things.
when, I know I use to be the one to press my bruised lips on your heart grown masculinity and how I remember the way my youth pressed against yours in scorning praise I remember you like sullen days I remember you with scars on my face I carry on being born in the morning ,fresh breeze from france and a  cigarette hanging off my lips I write of you,  with words of a woman who has been bruised this...
Jan 12th
6 notes