AutumnSadness
Status:
striving for accidental happiness
Joined: July 16, 2012
Last Seen: 7 years
user id: 317862
Location: Europe
Joined: July 16, 2012
Last Seen: 7 years
user id: 317862
Location: Europe
92
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55 Favorites
20 Following
42 Followers
9 Comment Points
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Flair
55 Favorites
20 Following
42 Followers
9 Comment Points
Comments
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Flair
AutumnSadness's Favorite Quotes
Quit using all those big words, it's just you and I.
Are you mad or angry? I'm sick of the long decorated
sentences. Who are you trying to impress? Answer me with three
syllables or less. Let's get to the point, I'm done with
all these detours. Is it done, are we dusted? I need to know
plain and simply. I think I've heard that word before, but I
can count the times on one finger. I shouldn't be trying to
recall what it means, stop putting up another boundary. My words
have a rigid flow, I don't know where this is going.
Let's use basic words that an eight year old would
understand. "Do you still like-like me?" or should we
just bury it in the sand. Okay, this isn't going anywhere, I
forgot that I fell for a thesaurus. We're not lost in
translation, we speak the same language. You are obviously a
class way too high for a peasant like me. So okay, I'm done.
I'll be the first one to leave.
I love too deeply, too quickly. And in the end, I always
disappoint myself.
“
Loving someone who
cannot love you the same way in return
is not weakness. It’s one of the most courageous things you’ll
ever do. You are putting your armour at
their feet and you are saying ‘I will not
fight you in this. I have loved you and that means that I
have already won’.
”
(( Azra
T. ))
for the fifth time this month
you say you’re going to leave him
he calls you a c.unt over the phone
then walks the three miles to your house
and kisses your mouth until the word is just
a place on your body.
i don’t know what brings broken people together
maybe damage seeks out damage
the way stains on a mattress halo into one another
the way stains on a mattress bleed into each other.
i
The morning you were made to leave she sat on the front steps, dress tucked between her thighs, a packet of Marlboro Lights near her bare feet, painting her nails until the polish curdled. Her mother phoned– ‘What do you mean he hit you? Your father hit me all the time but I never left him. He pays the bills and he comes home at night, what more do you want?’ Later that night she picked the polish off with her front teeth until the bed you shared for seven years seemed speckled with glitter and blood.
ii
On the drive to the hotel, you remember the funeral you went to as a little boy, double burial for a couple who burned to death in their bedroom. The wife had been visited by her husband’s lover, a young and beautiful woman who paraded her naked body in the couple’s kitchen, lifting her dress to expose breasts mottled with small fleshy marks, a back sucked and bruised, then dressed herself and walked out of the front door. The wife, waiting for her husband to come home, doused herself in lighter fluid. On his arrival she jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his torso. The husband, surprised at her sudden urge, carried his wife to the bedroom, where she straddled him on their bed, held his face against her chest and lit a match.
iii
A young man greets you in the elevator. He smiles like he has pennies hidden in his cheeks. You’re looking at his shoes when he says ‘the rooms in this hotel are sweltering. Last night in bed I swear I thought my body was on fire’.
The morning you were made to leave she sat on the front steps, dress tucked between her thighs, a packet of Marlboro Lights near her bare feet, painting her nails until the polish curdled. Her mother phoned– ‘What do you mean he hit you? Your father hit me all the time but I never left him. He pays the bills and he comes home at night, what more do you want?’ Later that night she picked the polish off with her front teeth until the bed you shared for seven years seemed speckled with glitter and blood.
ii
On the drive to the hotel, you remember the funeral you went to as a little boy, double burial for a couple who burned to death in their bedroom. The wife had been visited by her husband’s lover, a young and beautiful woman who paraded her naked body in the couple’s kitchen, lifting her dress to expose breasts mottled with small fleshy marks, a back sucked and bruised, then dressed herself and walked out of the front door. The wife, waiting for her husband to come home, doused herself in lighter fluid. On his arrival she jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his torso. The husband, surprised at her sudden urge, carried his wife to the bedroom, where she straddled him on their bed, held his face against her chest and lit a match.
iii
A young man greets you in the elevator. He smiles like he has pennies hidden in his cheeks. You’re looking at his shoes when he says ‘the rooms in this hotel are sweltering. Last night in bed I swear I thought my body was on fire’.
Warsan Shire //
Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth
Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth