A man that you met the month your heart was snapped in half walks in.
And then you remember how fragile you were, how you were so cracked open you made a fool of yourself in his bedroom.
How you were a baby doe learning how to walk again. How you kept saying “love me love me love me” in a whisper to his ear. How he heard “I’m open I’m broken hurry up and fill these holes.”
You will be 6 months removed from a night in his sheets.
You will simply look down at your book and say a thank you prayer to the god of your whole-again heart.”
– Desireé Dallagiacomo, Poet Extraordinaire (via phoenixburning)
→ A blog for those who want to improve their craft.: I Break Like a Fever (Desireé Dallagiacomo)
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“I have buried you in every place I’ve been. You keep ending up in my shaking hands.”
– Bon Iver (via emtc)
→ ||||||||: How to Refuse and Then Give In
But the truth is,
And there’s too many people petitioning God for the winning lotto ticket, and for every answered prayer there’s a cricket with arthritis, and the only reason we can’t find answers is because the search party didn’t invite us.
And, Louis, right now, the crickets have arthritis, so there’s no music, no symphony of nature swelling to crescendos, as if we bent halos into melodies that could keep rhythm with the way our hearts beat, so we must meet silence with the same level of noise that the parents of dying nine year old boys make when they take liberties in talking with heaven. We must shout until we shatter in our own vibrations, then let our lives
echo and grow
– Shane Koyczan, “The Crickets Have Arthritis” (via posteds)
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