the sadness will last forever.
richard siken, boot theory / little women (2019), dir. greta gerwig / lily king, writers & lovers / kate baer, and yet: poems / gracie abrams, block me out / tim kavanagh (x) / anne boyer, what resembles the grave but isn’t / molly brodak, a little middle of the night / phoebe bridgers, funeral / 9-1-1, 5x13 / ingmar bergman / james baldwin, giovanni’s room / the national, sorrow / house, 5x24 / fortesa latifi
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i just saw a tiktok that said "rip jess mariano you would've loved phoebe bridgers" and that might have been the worst take I've ever seen and im literally phoebe's biggest fan but he was literally a metal head and listened to Metallica, Bowie, the clash, etc etc too tired to name them all and he would NOT have even listened to more than 20 seconds of ms bridgers it was really funny seeing people agreeing cs like what
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A Taste of Heaven
I read for you,out loud
in a room with yellow light
and I stutter at every other word.
You don’t seem to mind it,
my stutter or my nervousness,
so I don’t stop. You don’t tell me to.
It’s the first time anyone has been this gentle.
I lay twisting in my white sheets,
flowers around my head like a halo,
thinking of eyes the colour of a blossomed Eden,
a garden one only dares to imagine when they dream.
A shade of green that rivals my jealousy,
a shade of green that could ruin a person’s life.
I read for you,out loud,
all the poems that have shaped me,
all the books i’ve loved and cherished
and kept close to my heart
like a treasure,like a locket.
You don’t seem to mind me,
so I don’t stop.
I scratch your arms until they turn pink,
hoping to feel some sort of satisfaction
or maybe a touch of guilt.
Ending up feeling like I cut an angel’s wings off and then pushed them off a cliff.
My humanity gets the better of me.
I ask if you are in pain.
You always say no.
You never,ever stop me.
Even when my wanting nearly kills me,or you,
or both of us,sometimes,
even when I nearly choke with it,
your name like a hymn on the edge of my tongue.
If you touched me it would come out in the disguise of a cry.
I call and you always answer,
our eyes meeting effortlessly everytime we are in the same room.
Your jewels hold secrets only I can unravel. I don’t want to.
I like you for the mystery you are,
like a scenery hidden by mist,
like the debths of the ocean,
like the magical forests that only exist behind waterfalls.
I like you for the mystery you are,
like the seven wonders of the world,
like life after death,
like God.
I read for you,out loud,
parts of the Gospels,
parts of my truth.
And silently I hope for a heaven that looks just like this:
eternally blossomed gardens
and angels that let me read aloud
and feed my curiosity with their curious,mysterious eyes.
Silently, I pray:
If this is what happiness feels like,
please make it last and last,
forever.
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*violently sobbing* I KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER I KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER
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