A glimpse into my mind
She blew a kiss, it missed my face and drifted into Outer Space and kissed the Sun and made it Smile; Now it's been Bright for Quite a While
“What I had once mistaken for death was, instead, a door.”— Rachel McKibbens, from “the second time,” published in Vinyl (via lifeinpoetry)
(Source: vinylpoetryandprose.com, via thegirlwhocrieswolf)
Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Patti Smith, all dark, all romantic. When I say “romantic,” I mean a sensibility that sees everything, and has to express everything, and still doesn’t know what the fuck it is, it hurts that bad. It just madly tries to speak whatever it feels, that can mean vast things. That mentality can turn a sun-kissed orange into a flaming meteorite, and make it sound like that in a song. -
Jeff Buckley
(via thegirlwhocrieswolf)
“But as long as I love you I am not free.”— Bob Dylan, Abandoned Love
(via thegirlwhocrieswolf)
“I experienced the humiliation of knowing myself.”— Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet. (via homo-infimus)
(via thegirlwhocrieswolf)
“Cities, like cats, will reveal themselves at night.”— Rupert Brooke, poet (b. 3 August 1887)
(via thegirlwhocrieswolf)
“I’m obsessed with you. Utterly, willingly and wonderfully so.”— Michael Faudet
(Source: quotemadness.com, via thegirlwhocrieswolf)
Don’t stay where you are needed. Go where you are loved.
Lang Leav
(via thegirlwhocrieswolf)
“We have this deep sadness between us and its spells so habitual I
can’t
tell it from love.”— Anne Carson, excerpt of The Beauty of the Husband
(via thegirlwhocrieswolf)