“we Must Not Always Talk In The Market-place Of What Happens To Us In The Forest,”
“we must not always talk in the market-place of what happens to us in the forest,”
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and he sat at the oncologist waiting room as life dimmed outside
reminds me of the end of the world and i love it 🤍
~~
watch the sawdust n dirt,
swirl swirl swirl
down the drain
paris, france 🥀
« ainsi va le monde. ce n’est pas am faute »
light means nothing when your mind is dark
turtle neck sweaters and steaming mugs of coffee and overcast clouds and leaves of red and yellow and orange and glossy doc martens and red lipstick stains on necks and pinkie promises and crunching strolls on new york city sidewalks
paris, france 🤍
“I read it, and I wished I had not, because my view of the world was so much darker afterward,”
no socks
are allowed in the red-room
no pretty pink flowers
are allowed
at the woods at night
mess mess mess
my mind’s
cluttered mess
this is what being alive is. a sticky menu between you and me in a cramped booth by a black window.
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ms711us reblogged this · 4 years ago
xxii | she/her | psychology & creative writing | desperately searching for meaning in the mundane
33 posts