& "Boom," she said.

It might work out.

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"He offered her the world, she said she had her own."
- Monique Duval (via poetisch)

(via stilleternity)

kurt-vonnegutted:

I hog the blankets and
when I was younger I used to fall out of bed on purpose
so that my parents would put me back in
The music is falling
apart around me and
I don’t know what home is
The last time I was this drunk I ended up at your door
We made snow angels in your…

I’m flattered you think I know the difference
between red wine glasses and white, the distinction
of time spent and hours wasted.

(He says it’s only addiction if you’re shaking.)

We haven’t been taught the art of want
nor wonder; lives lead as a duplicate of
that time you thought the world was bigger
than the spaces between your ankles, the inches between his thighs—

And we couldn’t stop if we wanted to. Standing
outside myself I casually observe the mediocrity
of my demeanor: pupils a lazy brown, a single brain living
in two dimensions;

I am a shell of what we used to love.

“I have to tell my story, you’re going
to be my next generation know it all.”

The past really can be repeated—
you can show me if I give you a chance, step
boldly with both feet into your twelve-month-sobriety
foundations and trust in life worth living.

“I’ll take you out of here; you’ll never
have to live a life so composed again.”

I could do without passion, breathe in the
seconds black-and-white. I can cross my legs
at the ankle, stare at the future eye to-
eye, and restrain the hunger captaining
my bloodstream. But I’m keeping a need
for frequencies, and there’s nothing
spatial here to save you.

"She’s mad but she’s magic. There’s no lie in her fire."
- Charles Bukowski

We never really got anywhere,
with our business degrees and theatrical
conversation.

because our future’s curves have stopped
expanding; there’s two heartbeats
marked for every minute wasted on punctuality,
on a tongue trained in philosophy’s I-shouldn’t-
try this but—

I’m prepared to admit it’s over,
but I’ll tie you down forever.

brightlightsloudnoises:

i’ve been in
the bars
recently and
i’ve found that
you’re out of stock;

there
are knock-offs
and
imitations,

but you are gone.

there are some
that
stand like you,
drink like you,
but

their eyes
aren’t
right

and the
laughter
is
false

and
it’s like
standing,
drunk, 
looking at
a painting in
a hotel room