It sucks when the shoulder you have always cried on belongs to the same person who is currently responsible for your tears.
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poem 4
today two old men came to the deli where i work
matching rings on their hands
and sat together
and looked at each other
with more love than i have ever seen
a man look at a woman
or a woman at a man
and i think,
just maybe,
that love is an old gay couple at dinner
on a tuesday night.
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all this love i have refuses to die inside of me
pinterest / vonko magno on flickr / troye sivan, one of your girls / virginia woolf, a letter to vanessa bell, august 1908 / @hannahlockillustration on tumblr / sara luisa kirk, begin here / fyodor dostoevsky, a letter to anna gregorevna dostoevsky, may 1880 / archbudzar on instagram / jeanette winterson, lighthousekeeping (transcript under the cut) / caitlyn siehl / @wormbus-art on tumblr / jonathan safran foer, extremely loud and incredibly close / lidia yuknavitch, the chronology of water: a memoir / sleepy.corvid on instagram / @froody on tumblr / @borderlinejackiee on tumblr / always together 2, frrrankkky_art on instagram / andsome4747 on tiktok / arthur miller, the crucible / cheryl strayed, tiny beautiful things: advice on love and life from dear sugar
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I guess you never cared as much as I thought you did.
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peace be upon those who laugh,
with years of crying in their hearts.
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you didn't say goodbye
and part of me believes
that means
you are coming back
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I wasn't good enough, but I tried to be.
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poem3
love is the sunlight through my kitchen window
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