Oh, What A Beautiful Mess

1. 34056
   9
   May
   
   

   1612th:

   this covers every argument against gay marriage and completely destroys it this is a very good post

   (via fetchingcody)
2. 1
   25
   Apr
   

   4/25: Lovers Anonymous

   Drunken on your words.

   my head was spinning

   like three shots of tequila

   served with the salt

   of your sarcasm

   and the lime

   of your laughter.

   The way you chuckled

   at my loss of words

   made me want to stumble

   so my body could match

   the zero-gravity feel

   of your gaze.

   I needed

   to know you’d already fallen;

   back stuck to the bar room floor

   and waiting for me to join you.

   • spilled ink
   • the feedback project
   • poetry
3. 24
   25
   Apr
   
   georgia says you're never coming back: liars and lovers.

   wildflowerveins:

   you wrote me love letters on the back of receipts
   from the grocery store, words that jumped out at
   me like tigers from India and lions from Africa,
   places i’ve never been.
   
   you graduated to post it notes on my mirror
   in the mornings, little lines of whispered poetry
   that spilled from…

4. 5
   25
   Apr
   

   convo

   jadamwhite:

   if i said something like your voice
   sounds like piano keys in a cave
   would you say my name, once
   to know i am here, twice to make
   it stick, this dreamless weekend
   has me echoing almighty, this room
   with us against the wall feels golden
   and midnight, your fingers are snuffed-out
   candle wicks to my cold hands, it all
   feels way too way too late 
   - i think we should skip school tomorrow
   - i think the world might end - i want to see
     it happen - i think you’re tired - i think
     i am too 
5. 11
   25
   Apr
   

   jadamwhite:

   something about the weather 
   makes it feel like the last ten minutes
   of everything, i’m lighting cigarettes
   against the wind like a secret, i’m waiting
   at crosswalks for no reason, spring is here
   but its not here really, i imagine your sundress
   still hanging in your closet, the one i liked, 
   the one i said yes to, yes yes i will yes
   remember if you can the way it all felt
   like the first ten minutes of everything
   anyway just wanted to tell you
   its true its true i don’t think about you 
6. 1
   23
   Apr
   

   4/23: The Worst Part

   The worst part of language

   is how it fails

   again,

   and again,

   and once more.

   The words never appear

   when I need them most,

   like a savior

   that lives only in my dreams;

   when reality asks its price

   I am alone

   and digging into my throat

   for a word worth anything.

   The worst part

   of words

   are how they’re always,

   always

   empty.

   Never carrying the truth

   of what I mean,

   only the reality

   of perception.

   The worst part

   is how it strangles

   the things I couldn’t say;

   how it hangs

   from my throat 

   with all its weight

   when beautiful thoughts

   and their ugly verbs

   get wrapped in each other;

   inextricable

   as the meaning I never learned

   to speak.

   My silence is, perhaps,

   the only way I know

   to close the distance.

   The only way I know

   to listen.

   • spilled ink
   • the feedback project
7. 1
   23
   Apr
   

   4/23

   Got my graduation dress in the mail today and tried it on. I was incredibly worried that it wouldn’t fit because I got it a size smaller than i’ve ever worn. And……….*drumroll here*….. It fits! It fits! In fact, I must admit that I look really good in it. :-) Next up: new haircut!
8. 13521
   23
   Apr
   

   "Essentially, the idea of a “slut” is a myth told to women to keep them in their place. Just as Santa will not actually bring you coal on Christmas if you break a few of the house rules, you will not actually turn into an intrinsically tainted, unpalatable creature if you break one of society’s rules and have sex with one too many men. The word “slut” isn’t a criticism for having too much sex necessarily, but for being a woman: a real, living, breathing woman with quirks, foibles, normal sexual feelings, and personality; and failing to live up to the societal ideal for a woman: the passive, pliable, perpetually innocent, and sexually available Barbie doll."

   - The Slut Myth  (via ceedling)

   (Source: theseasonofthewitch, via annieelainey)

9. 7
   22
   Apr
   

   4/22/2012: The Empty

   I can taste your absence

   like blood on my tongue

   bitter

   and unpleasant.

   It collects like a tidal wave

   in the back of my throat

   drowning me in mistakes

   that fill the emptiness

   where you used to be.

   Salty flavored sobs

   cover my lips

   that never said the right thing.

   And I wish that the marred sorrys

   spilling from my mouth

   could cleanse our palate. 

   I wish I didn’t know

   the taste of absence.

   • spilled ink
   • the feedback project
10. 4379
    22
    Apr
    
    

    (via sharpedges)

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  The greedy writer

  My fingers shook as an earthquake of emotion quietly rumbled on.

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  convo

  if i said something like your voice
  sounds like piano keys in a cave
  would you say my name,...

  Post via jadamwhite