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[pengquinnquirkys]

“i like to tell myself it’ll get better; that in the end it’s all beautiful, pain free and peaceful. i don’t know if i’m lying to myself or trying to convince myself that is the truth.

i wish i was confident enough to scream it from the highest mountains and the deepest trenches, that everything gets better. i wish i was confident enough to believe those sappy tumblr quotes and the ed sheeran songs about love.

maybe confident enough to believe the Nicholas Sparks books, or the Rupi Kaur poetry. and maybe one day i’ll be confident enough to say that you didn’t mean to hurt me.

maybe one day those words will come out so strong they’ll cause the ground to split into halves, houses to crumble to pieces, and cities to burn to ashes. one day.

i like to tell myself you didn’t mean to hurt me.. i try so hard to put some faith and belief behind it but i believe that’s the last thing i could ever have faith in.

my heart aches and bruises line the areas on my body where you touched her, my mind is so lost i can barely recognize myself let alone you. your chest was once home now feels like i’m looking into a foreign map and i don’t know how to change any of the feelings of despair and anger i feel.

i wake up and i look at you as you peacefully sleep and i think about the words you said to her and how no matter how hard i tried i wasn’t enough but she tried so little and she was everything.

i wish i was here without being here. i wish i could feel every single emotion, without feeling the negative emotions. i wish i was able to be the princess, who doesn’t need the knight. i wish i was able to see the positive even though the negative is equal weight.

i wake up and my chest is heavy with hurt, my shoulders carry the world of my pain on a daily, and the past is ankle shackles and i wonder when. i wonder if. i wonder why.

i wonder if one day those words will come out. “He didn’t mean to hurt me.” i wonder when and if those words come out so strong they’ll cause the ground to split into halves, houses to crumble to pieces, and cities to burn to ashes. one day.”

— 7:41 pm .:. I Wonder .:. Ye2owm2cm .:.

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you’re going to hurt me and i’m going to let you

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I don’t even feel like I exist. I don’t feel physically here. I’m so mentally distraught that I feel like I’m just mentally in my body. The fight to keep going is growing to be more exhausting and the corruption of this world is steadily crippling me. There’s so much to fight for, yet so little to lose. I can’t help but to find myself in derealization…

[pengquinnquirkys]

I always find myself fantasizing about how we got it right in every other universe; but at the end of the day it’s just a fantasy and you’re a stranger once a again.

- via (death-born-aphrodite)

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- loving you was absinthe/ i've never been sober since

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missing you

I wish I could run

Into the grip of your arms

Once over again

But that night was my last chance

Of ever seeing you

And those wonderful eyes

Ever again

But there’s a star in the sky

On this hopeless night

And I’d like to think it’s you

Watching over me

While my eyes fill with tears

I guess I can still feel your love

In places it wouldn’t normally be

- Grey Augustus

[pengquinnquirkys]

Sleek Solemn Souls

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“When my nineteen-year-old son turns on the kitchen tap and leans down over the sink and tilts his head sideways to drink directly from the stream of cool water, I think of my older brother, now almost ten years gone, who used to do the same thing at that age; And when he lifts his head back up and, satisfied, wipes the water dripping from his cheek with his shirtsleeve, it’s the same casual gesture my brother used to make; and I don’t tell him to use a glass, the way our father told my brother, because I like remembering my brother when he was young, decades before anything went wrong, and I like the way my son becomes a little more my brother for a moment through this small habit born of a simple need, which, natural and unprompted, ties them together across the bounds of death, and across time … as if the clear stream flowed between two worlds and entered this one through the kitchen faucet, my son and brother drinking the same water.”

— A Drink of Water BY JEFFREY HARRISON

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I THINK I AM GOING TO CUT MY HAIR

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Quote from Dan Sheehan

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– Robert Bly

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I always think of you before I fall asleep. The words you said, the way you looked. The things we laughed about, the silent moments we shared. And when I dream, I'll dream of you. Because it's about you, it's always about you.

[pengquinnquirkys]

today’s craving is a perfectly relaxed and busy living room, the soft glow of morning and friends and sweethearts over for breakfast—half in excited conversation cross-legged on the wood floor, half seated by the table, lost in thought by the window. maybe we’re setting out for a trip in the afternoon, maybe a slow morning spent together is all we’re after. the kitchen is warm with brewed coffee and flipping pancakes by the stove; another set of hands unscrewing a jar of homemade jam. forks and knives and spoons and a poured glass of orange juice. a room or two of people I love, more like home than it has felt. here, can I get you more? how are you feeling? good morning, how did you sleep?

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I know that there will still be moments or days or months that I’ll hug to the quiet. I know I will still devour the time I spend alone. I know that some of that will stay with me and some of this will have to stretch its legs and move forward and allow more people the chance to hold that quiet with me—to break it down to bits if not most of the time, because life is wasted if it becomes too serious a thing. I cannot curl up under my inch of sky to stare forever. I need to bound through the creek and pop bubblegum from the backseat. I want to exhale a sigh under somebody’s blankets and feed them brownie batter from the spoon.  I want to hear the slow crumble of every wall drop when it needs to and still feel safe. I do. I can do it. I’ll get better at loosening my fist. my hands are so sore.

[pengquinnquirkys]

crush by richard siken // richard diebenkorn // richard diebenkorn // if there’s a way out i’ll take it by lora mathis

[pengquinnquirkys]

when we are old & our hearts have beat within us, let us go back, & when we have buried our loves, & shed our bodies piece by piece, & when we have danced & broken our shoes, & danced, let us go back, when we have gone mad, & when we have shut the doors, dismantled our eyes & rifles, let us go back, when we have drunk the wine & licked our lips & put our tongues to the inside of the green glass bottle & laid down our bodies old as trees, streets, let us go back, when we have told our stories & forgotten our stories, & set the tables & made the beds, let us go back, & received other bodies into our bodies, let us go, when we have entered, & opened, & opened our mouths, let us go back, […] when the poem has been sung, when the strings & tambourines, when all the birds have gathered at the window, let us go, let us go back there, let us go back

—Aracelis Girmay, from “Litany,” Teeth (Curbstone Press, 2007)