Quotes added on Thursday, November 3 2016
standin' at the sink not lookin' in the mirror
don't know where i am or how i got here
WELL THE ONLY THING THAT I KNOW HOW TO FIND
is another vice
© format coded by: br0kenwings
Please don't remove this, or make it invisible!
Image is from tumblr, original photographer unknown.
Please don't remove this, or make it invisible!
Image is from tumblr, original photographer unknown.
You go talk to kindergartners or first grade kids, you find a
class full of science enthusiasts. They ask deep questions.
They ask, "What is a dream, why do we have toes, why is
the moon round, what is the birthday of the world, why is grass
green?" These are profound, important questions. They just
bubble right out of them. You go talk to 12th graders and
there's none of that. They've become incurious.
Something terrible has happened between kindergarten and 12th
grade. —Carl Sagan
Your lips are
meadows,
Your tongue is wine.
Your laughter's liquid,
But your body's pine.
You love all sailors,
But hate the beach.
You say come touch me,
But you're always out of reach.
In the dark you tell me of the flowers,
That only blooms in the violet hour.
Your arms are lovely,
Yellow and rose.
Your back's a meadow,
Covered in snow.
Your thighs are thistles,
And hot house grapes.
You breathe your sweet breath,
And have me wait.
Your tongue is wine.
Your laughter's liquid,
But your body's pine.
You love all sailors,
But hate the beach.
You say come touch me,
But you're always out of reach.
In the dark you tell me of the flowers,
That only blooms in the violet hour.
Your arms are lovely,
Yellow and rose.
Your back's a meadow,
Covered in snow.
Your thighs are thistles,
And hot house grapes.
You breathe your sweet breath,
And have me wait.
— VIOLET
HOUR
they
say
the
world
is a hard place, but no one mentions the
gut wrenching, soul crushing, heart breaking pain it is to
survive growing up. They don’t talk about how childhood
is just a word now, or when it became such a fight and you have
to be like the ferrous iron that flows through your veins to
reach adulthood unscathed. Your first fight, your first
heartbreak, your first betrayal, your first identity crisis,
your first addiction. People are always talking about how
children these days are so very resilient. They shouldn’t
have to be. When did we start teaching our children that
growing up is having to choose thousands of ways of breaking
yourself in two?
It’s a scary thing, how the people you’re closest to
can so quickly become strangers.
Happy? Me? Take a walk through my mind, roll up my sleeves. Get to
know me first. Then tell me how "happy" i am. No one really cares
until something dramatic happens You don't know: What I've been
through The childhood I've had How much I hate myself What I do to
myslef when i'm alone How much i just want to give up How much my
heart hurts.... How much I cry You don't know me at all
