smelling vodka on my breath at seventeen. I say loss
is trauma stealing an entire month from my memories.
Superheroes always have broken hearts and tragic
back stories so maybe I’m doing OK. In my dreams we
are brave enough to leap tall buildings in a single
bound and see through walls and also never lie to
Promise me this: when you finally leave me, you’ll
get creative. Tell me I was more disappointing than
your childhood. Send me your bloody ear with a letter
saying “I’ve got to Gogh. You’re making me crazy.”
I am hard to love but know this much: you are the
only thing I like doing more than writing poems.
Superheroes, Clementine von Radics (via clementinevonradics)
Share A Coke With An Old Friend You Haven’t Seen In Years And The More You Think About It You Slowly Realize That You Can’t Remember Their Face As Clearly and You’ve Forgotten The Sound of Their Voice And The Phone Number You Have For Them Doesn’t Work Anymore and You Realize That The People From Your Past Are Becoming Harder To Visualize Like Trying To Remember A Dream After You Wake Up
The Promise Ring | Forget Me
where forget-me-nots, and marigolds, and other things that don’t get old, between one june and september, you’re all i remember, but i’m a lantern; my head a moon. i married a room where i’ll at least keep my hands in order. and what about the air, lying awake?