ancient-wounds-made-me-do-it

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don’t let me out of this kiss

don’t let me say what i say

the things that scare us today

what if they happen someday?

don’t let me out of your arms, for now

what if the sword kills the pen

what if the god kills the man

and if he does it with love

well then it’s death from above

and death from above is still a death

i don’t wanna live without you

i don’t wanna live without you

i don’t wanna live, i don’t wanna live without you

i don’t wanna live, i don’t wanna live

without you

for those who still can recall

the desperate colors of fall

the sweet caresses of may

only in poems remain

no one recites them these days

for the shame

so what if nothing is safe?

so what if no one is saved?

no matter how sweet

no matter how brave

what if each to his own lonely grave?

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I THINK I AM GOING TO CUT MY HAIR

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you used to be where I would go to hide from people who treat me the way that you treated me I don't believe ya

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judge me with no forgiveness

you trying to leave while you can, before I get too sad

convince ya to take me back, convince ya that I'm not that bad

and that I might be worth saving when you come back I might not be here waiting

I'm not the easiest, I'm not the easiest to be real I don't blame you for leaving me all my friends they hate your guts I'm here defending all you've done singing' I'm not the easiest, I'm not the easiest but before you go, baby you should know that

I might be worth saving

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“This is the year you begin. Slip into the sweet mud. Get dirty. Stay dirty. There is nothing to forgive”

— Jeremy Radin, ‘Pipe Organ Owl Mansion’

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Wendell Berry

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“From tiny experiences we build cathedrals.”

— Orhan Pamuk, The Art of Fiction No. 187 (via theparisreview)

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“You were unsure which pain is worse: the shock of what happened or the ache for what never will.”

— Simon Van Booy, Everything Beautiful Began After (via the-book-diaries)

[ancient-wounds-made-me-do-it]

laying in the silence

waiting for the sirens

signs. any signs I'm alive still?

I don’t wanna lose it

I'm not getting through this

hey, should I pray? should I pray?

to myself, to a god, to a savior

who can unbreak the broken

unsay these spoken words

find hope in the hopeless

pull me out the train wreck

unburn the ashes

unchain the reactions

I'm not ready to die, not yet

pull me out the train wreck

pull me out, pull me out, pull me out, pull me out, pull me out

underneath our bad blood 

we’ve still got a sad song

home, still at home, still at home, yeah

it’s not too late to build it back

cause a one in a million chance is still a chance, still a chance

and I would take those odds

-James Arthur/Train Wreck

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Nikos Kazantzakis, tr. by P. A. Bien, from “Report To Greco,” publ. c. 1961

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David Mitchell, Slade House

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Oh, now you don't recognize my face? I heard that you got a lot to say Chubbs on your jaw, I don't hear a thing But I ain't a killa, I'll let you breathe Oh, now you don't recognize my face But I heard that you got a lot to say I never listen, no, I never listen So I wouldn't hear your ass anyway  I never listen, no, I never listen So I wouldn't hear your ass anyway...

Ah, if I'm sipping Jameson, I don't answer "Fuck love" is my anthem I feel like my city needs a female in a Phantom Script boys, they just actin' And clown boys got me laughin' And I'm taking everything I came for I ain't fuckin' askin'

Jessie Reyez/DEAF(who are you)

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I wish five years ago

had an area code

so I could get you on the phone

the old you I'm looking for 

my favorite memory

when you called me your majesty

and we let this whole castle fall down

oh, what a tragedy

do I still live in your head? do you still live with regrets?

cause I do, I do

do you got something on your chest? do you wish we weren’t finished yet?

cause I do, I do

-Jessie Reyez//I Do

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~I NEED TO TALK TO GOD! THERE’S THINGS I JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND!~

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I go to church every Sunday

but teenage love still took my virgin skin

and the night after my first time I cried

cause I thought heaven wouldn’t let me in

meanwhile the priest has got a boyfriend

and lots of teachers smoke weed after school 

when you’re young they try to keep you in the cages

but most of them don’t follow their own rules

spend your whole life being graded 

being told you’re not enough

being told go find the one and sit and wait for death to come

but I don’t wanna!

I need to talk to god

there’s things I just don’t understand

like who am I when no ones in the room

who am I when no ones in the room?

does the voice in my head that talks me off the ledge belong to me

or does it come from the clouds?

who am I when no ones in the room?

go to school and get a good job

just to work your life away and pay your debts

and even those who live their dreams out

cry cause all that glitters ain’t what you expect

sometimes I don’t wanna sing no more

slit my throat and take my music back from evil men

they could put my body in the ocean

so I could die wearing a smile & maybe find peace again

-jessie reyez/no ones in the room

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“As with a wound on one’s own body, it is possible to develop an intimacy with the most disturbing of things.”

— Kazuo Ishiguro, A Pale View of Hills  (via dearestdeads)

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“I suppose it was lust but it was holy and awful.”

— John Berryman, from The Heart Is Strange: New Selected Poems; “Young Woman’s Song”. (via empiregrotesk)