sickening-nostalgia

[sickening-nostalgia]

My sister says my hands are always cold. Do you ever feel emotions in colours? I think loneliness is blue. The kind of pale blue of too bright bulbs of grocery stores and the outside of a windowpane-of the one house that's always lit up and looks warm and golden. Love would be orange then, I think. The orange of sunsets and fires where everyone warms their hands. God, I feel so blue all the time.

-poison ivy, loneliness is blue

#quotes #literature #poetry #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #creative writing #winter #blue #loneliness #love

[sickening-nostalgia]

Winter comes again, closing her cold hands over my throat, splashing the dark red of clogged up memories onto the snow. Tomorrow morning, when the snow on the pavement is shoveled out, muddy shoes will have long covered the stains from last winter.

-poison Ivy, Winter sickness

#writing #quotes #literature #winter #writers on tumblr #writeblr #poetry #winter aesthetic #memories #nostalgia #melancholy

[sickening-nostalgia]

It is November and I am thinking of ghosts. Not the literal kind. The ones that exist in shadows, in abandoned houses, in old kitchens and childhood beds. The handprints on a fogged-up window, carved initials in the bark of a tree, notes in margins of old textbooks, chalk drawings on the blackboard of an old classroom. The cracking spine of my mother's favourite novel, the dust around a glowing bulb, the echo of crashing ocean waves in a seashell. In a way, we are all sorts of ghosts. Everything we touch is tainted with memories, all tethered together like a time capsule. It is November and I feel like a ghost.

-poison ivy, November ghosts

#writing #literature #quotes #november #november aesthetic #ghosts #poetry #writeblr #writers on tumblr