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Foie Graphics

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How could you NOT fall in love with the glow of the moon and stars, the warmth of the sun, the ancient life within the trees, and the sweet melodies of the winds?

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finally at peace with life.

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life is so fleeting and beautiful and tragic…. I miss everything

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i love you everybody who is trying to save their own life & love themselves back into the world, it's gonna happen for you don't doubt for a second!!!!!!!!!!!!

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you can go back to the past but nobody’s there

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Anne Michaels, from "Infinite Gradation," originally published in October 2017

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all i wanted in life was love and now i am terrified of it

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(trying to give relationship advice) from a narrative perspective i think both of you dying together would be the most emotionally satisfying resolution but i’m guessing that’s not what you want to hear

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I wish I could tell you how much I love you and then just die peacefully. Or violently. I don’t care how exactly. Just with you together.

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I confuse people. i have a happy personality and a sad soul. i'm bold but shy. i love deeply but sometimes i feel heartless. i'm healing and hurting at the same time. i'm dedicated to growth, but i self sabotage

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Anton Chekhov, “The Seagull”

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it’s so cool that you can just imagine things. anything you want. all for free. anytime anywhere. and nobody ever gets to see it except for you. so cool

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my handwriting looks like the kind a ghost leaves behind on the back of a faded love letter. smudged with perfume, blood, maybe snot, maybe wine. the kind you find curled up inside a dead girl’s vanity drawer. still sealed. still waiting.

what is the purpose of this life if not to rot meaningfully?

to feel everything at once and then forget it fast enough to survive another monday? to fall in love so hard we break our own ribs trying to climb inside their soul? so many love stories die in the throat. no climax. no sex. no blood. just shyness and timing and missed calls. just the slow decay of might-have-beens. the silent type of heartbreak, the kind with no funeral. nobody cries for what never began.

if i could learn the ways of my lover’s heart, i’d know what god sounded like before language. i’d peel back the ribs and study the beats like scripture. i’d live inside the thump of his blood. count the regrets stored in the ventricles. see who he mourned. see who he never told.

the big answers are hiding in mundane places. under the kitchen light. in the dog hair on your sweater. in the sticky note with your name spelled wrong. the real holy things aren’t golden, they’re chipped, overheard, pathetic. they whisper through windows and wilted flowers and the ache behind your eyes.

some days, i want to be nothing but a hand, touching, trembling and held. some days, i want to be the wind on a sunny afternoon. a private joke between god and the earth. some days, i want to pull every unspoken thing out of the ground and eat it raw. so it can rot inside me instead. so it doesn’t die unseen.

i love like a fever. i wait like a grave. and i write like someone who won’t be read until it’s too late. #original prose