You are under my skin with your tongue.
And I find myself here, longing, along that edgewanting that return, that thing, unspoken
I can feel myself splitting into an image of myself
and there is no age, no self, I am splitting, surrenderthis vortex, you vortex, are nameless, brave
nameless, unususual, wearing strange clothes,
walking strange streets, and never do you appear to me
as I expectyour tongue is against my skin
I find myself searching out the repositioning
Quotes
I did not know that there was a wall which I was attempting to crash through until it gave way.
sometimes I feel a circle of complete power. I feel onfire, alive.
The memories emerge from the depths of my mind, and it invigorates me to know the depth of experience,
She was beautiful and silent, with downcast eyes. She sat musing, pondering, that day. Her eyes were bent. She would never lift them.
Virginia Woolf, To The Lighthouse (via portionsofeternity)
I miss your hands and your sound, I miss you old city.
there were all the places where I danced, where the parties erupted,
life should only intensify.Most moments I found myself to be strangely on the outside. I have always been happy; intensely so. I know that I am capable of great and powerful love; that I contain with me, such immense expressions of strength.
sometime everything was lit afire. that is my favorite time. ablaze. ablaze.
I know that I should wake and live days as passionately as possible. Many time there is a wall, and the prospect of breaking through seems like an imposibility, nothing seems to give
Spasms, I love you, psalms,
O semensmeared one, feelwalls
deep in the gulch of you exult,You, eternal, uneternitized,
eternitized, uneternal you…
Paul Celan, from Glottal Stop, trans. Nikolai Popov and Heather McHugh (via proustitute)
wer jetzt kein haus hat, baut sich keines meh
whoever has no house will not build one
rilke
we we hide in the corners we scream our lungs out, we have no idea where we are standing. terror. just move through it and expect beautey.
Movement and change are the essence of our being; rigidity is death; conformity is death: let us say what comes into our heads, repeat ourselves, contradict ourselves, fling out the wildest nonsense, and follow the most fantastic fancies without caring what the world does or thinks or says. For nothing matters except life.
Virginia Woolf, Montaigne YES!!!!
today … may i be me …. being & becoming.
E.E. Cummings (via frenchtwist)
TESS TENNESSEE MILLER 