#Good Bones

[scrapplesims]

Good morning simblr. Please look at my Woman. Thank you

[apoemaday]

Good Bones

by Maggie Smith

Life is short, though I keep this from my children. Life is short, and I’ve shortened mine in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways, a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways I’ll keep from my children. The world is at least fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative estimate, though I keep this from my children. For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird. For every loved child, a child broken, bagged, sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world is at least half terrible, and for every kind stranger, there is one who would break you, though I keep this from my children. I am trying to sell them the world. Any decent realtor, walking you through a real shithole, chirps on about good bones: This place could be beautiful, right? You could make this place beautiful.

[glamaphonic]

broke: they're going to be terrible innkeepers (derogatory)

woke: they're going to be terrible innkeepers (affectionate)

bespoke: the inn is irrelevant; the point is that they've both committed to their relationship and the work it'll take to maintain.

[bloughjobs]

[f-loqweres]

‎ 日ᡣ 𐭩024 Regardez la vérité ? ! ♡

ヾ(´∇｀) De bons os. ‘ Le sserafim ’

yunjin mb~

[i2sowon]

⤑ le sserafim member, chaewon !! ᐢ..ᐢ

[hotsauceintheebag]

The Female Body has many uses. It's been used as a door knocker, a bottle-opener, as a clock with a ticking belly, as something to hold up lampshades, as a nutcracker, just squeeze the brass legs together and out comes your nut. It bears torches, lifts victorious wreaths, grows copper wings and raises aloft a ring of neon stars; whole buildings rest on its marble heads.

It sells cars, beer, shaving lotion, cigarettes, hard liquor, it sells diet plans and diamonds, and desire in tiny crystal bottles. Is this the face that launched a thousand products? You bet it is, but don't get any funny big ideas, honey, that smile is a dime a dozen.

It does not merely sell, it is sold. Money flows into this countryor that country, lies in, practically crawls in, suitful after suitful, lured by all those hairless preteen legs. Listen, you want to reduce the national debt, don't you? Aren't you patriotic? That's the spirit. That's my girl.

She's a natural resource, a renewable one luckily, because those things wear out so quickly. They don't make 'em like they used to. Shoddy goods.

The Female Body - Good Bones and Simple Murders

[k-yuris]

(＃＞＜)　 　 　⫖ 　 　 　 ◌ 　 　 cause I make it look easy. 　 ⚘

(＃＞＜)　 　 　⫖ 　 　 　 ◌ 　 easy! crazy! hot! I can make it!　 ⚘

@jangkyus hi pooks :3

[wonnieloves]

; 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘮𝘦 . . .

; 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘰 :: 𝘯𝘢𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘴-𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵-𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘢 . . .

im making it look easy

[scrapplesims]

If I don't finally just post these two being precious then I will explode

(The brunette's name is Sal by the way 🤍)

[lgbtqreads]

New Releases: April 9, 2024

Young Adult Every Time You Hear That Song by Jenna Voris They say to never meet your idols. But they never said anything about upending your life for a quest designed by one. Seventeen-year-old aspiring journalist Darren Purchase has been a lifelong fan of country music legend Decklee Cassel, who’s as famous for her classic hits as she is for her partnership with songwriter Mickenlee Hooper. The…

[le-sserafims-blog]

easy.

[girlfictions]

Maggie Smith, Good Bones

[rachelspoetrycorner]

Good Bones (2016) by Maggie Smith

In Episode 212, Rachel brings a more well-known poem.

Rachel: The writer of the Slate article said, "My brain replaced the actual meaning of the poem with the buoyant feeling being seen gave me, which is a lot like hope."

Griffin: Hmm.

Rachel: Which I feel like is a really—really precise way to kind of talk about this. Uh, Maggie Smith, in that article, said that she kind of still grapples with the legacy of that viral poem. She said, "What I'll always be known for is writing this poem about how bad things are, and maybe they could be better, but they're bad." [laughs]

It's a struggle to say anything at all about this poem -not only because everything that can be said about it has already been said- but because it's one of those poems (in my opinion) that need no further comment, nor explanation. The subject material is stitched so tightly into our lives, we´re familiar with the fabric's texture and its weight as we put it on every day. Reading Smith's poem feels like she's carefully covering us with this fabric as if it were a blanket, and saying to us: I know.

To hear more, you can do so here: Chaotic Eye Energy, from 5:50 - 15:15

[alliwanttodoiscollectpoetry]

This Town by Maggie Smith