I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth.
I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people.
——Caitlyn Siehl, Literary Sexts
Justin Vernon (via technicoloring)
(dear xyz, I miss you and I miss everything, sweet sticky summer is when it hurts the most)
into the loveliness of whatever it is they point to. I’m trying
to get at just how things are, to adjust to that, but then I start
shaking. Isn’t that how it is with you?
——Frank X. Gaspar, from It Was So Dark Inside The Wolf
To tell you as a warning: there are things people do that will fuck you up. Set you on fire, fan the flames, pull you towards the piles and piles of wood all slick-ready with gasoline, the bullets, the roaring crackle of electricity, the splinters and the knives and the hard smooth rocks. And you’ll barely be able to turn your head, face the silhouettes of their receding bodies—no one wants to watch, no one stays until the very end of an execution—while you burn and the embers are floating like tiny satellites in the constellation of your life, was it only worth this much light? But it is rebirth, it is benediction, charred hands in naked stretches of land, an entire road ahead, unpaved, unlittered. Brand new soul, brand new moon. Not to be forgotten.
——nadine gordimer, the house gun
——Franny & Zooey, the best
so happy I was invited
give me a reason to get out of the city
see you inside watching swarms on TV
living and dying in New York means nothing to me
I gave my heart to the army
the only sentimental thing I could think of
with cousins and cousins somewhere overseas
but it’ll take a better war to kill a college man like me.
I’m too tired to drive anywhere anyway right now
do you care if I stay?
you can put on your bathing suits
and I’ll try to find something on this thing that means nothing
losing my breath—
you and your sister live in a lemonworld
I want to sit in and die.
this pricey stuff makes me dizzy
I guess I’ve always been a delicate man
takes me a day to remember a day
I didn’t mean to let it get so far out of hand
I was a comfortable kid
but I don’t think about it much anymore
lay me on the table, put flowers in my mouth
and we can say that we invented a summer lovin’ torture party
——lyrics that read like poetry, etc
Anonymous said: List of your favorite books that you'd recommend a perfect stranger to read?
everything under the tag