| I'm so great. Really. |


the day, in two partseveningthe day, in two parts
Maria and Mr. Riner are sitting on my bed tied up like garlands, against the wall the words stew inside and I can't seem to pour them out but we three fools, sit and scribble regardless staring blankly at the drooling clock (persistent, in our memories). the whitewashed cinderblocks are testament to the number of walls the quantity of clocks (this series of chairs). and if we close our eyes we expect to wake up in heaven but it's just the same old hell.
she says, keep writing (if you feel inclined) and arches her back in


traveling west againPROLOGUE and each time we sleep, confess a little desire for death. there's just twenty names that live in your head bukowski, ginsberg, &c. where each of us on this street would give away our very lives to make number nineteen on that list.traveling west again
I i received a letter from the alpine in which she explained that due to our lack of allergies, our physical beauty and our pines our story would likely never end "because we've got no morals, ideals, and there is really no end game we've got nothing we'd die for, or couldn't live without" &
Brooding

the red queen effect.you said: you know, i can't remember if you ever told me we were doomed from the beginning.the red queen effect.
but it sounds like something you would say.
but when you find yourself experimenting in my skin, i will feel obliged to mention the pulse that pulls my strings, the fact that i am not your personal puzzle, but something foreign and
frail and not even worth your exasperated sighs.
i am button eyes and uneven stitches and i said: please shut the door behind you when
you leave,
and you did not catch the inflection in my tired flatblack eyes, the wea
--
The One and Only
You Can't Own Me
That Mediterranean pic? Goddamn gorgeous! I mean, you really nailed it, sir.
Thank you! Need to go back there, one day.
--
Sir, I admit to your general rule
That every poet is a fool.
But you yourself may serve to show it
That not every fool is a poet.
thank you times a millionbajillionstar
for that favourite.
best wishes,
me.
<3
--
let's play a game called you pretend i am an actual poet
you're most welcome!
me.
--
Sir, I admit to your general rule
That every poet is a fool.
But you yourself may serve to show it
That not every fool is a poet.
c:
love,
me.
--
let's play a game called you pretend i am an actual poet
--
°_° Carlé °_°
...could I become an artist ???[link]
CarloValente
--
`ArtistsForCharity
~You Must Be The Change You Wish To See In The World. ~ M. Gandhi~
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