(Source: allstargook)
(Source: la-vie-en-violet)
(Source: hiddlesdiddledmyskittle, via art-one)
(Source: holbyquotes)
(Source: cgossipgirlc)
(via fragilemoth)
Rough and tumble father you
are not playing nicely. Shot shards
into her eyes and birthday candles
left wanting. Unsatisfactory
fathering to your fatherless
children who needed you more than
her children which are not yours to want.
A hundred names when I sat on your knee
a hundred names you said to she that I
shouldn’t have heard. But whisper sounds
don’t stay quiet. These days they burst out
into waiting cupped hands, clasped hands
fingers that wring together after all these years.
Fingers that undid locks and locked themselves together
afterwards as I sat by your side knowing
I could never know you again. Ten dead men
lay side by side in the valley, ten men who
fought and died, for this our world for which we
are truly thankful. May you make us, may you
make it back to the hallowed past of stretched out
unbroken days and nights. Why won’t you remember
my name?
Love
That big brittle love which gets shat up walls and almost trips down the stairs heart in mouth love, dirty love enacted on second hand yellow sheets with nobody else’s convictions except the ones ripped spasming inside out in the shiver scabs of morning nights. Great shattered buckets of undulating terror lust spill from side to side down the grotty back streets and the bright red shadows.
(Source: goodnewshackney)
Blank
A thousand misshapen endings peered out from behind the vacated rows of chairs. Too late was the cry.
Oh you, you always win in the end. It’s been streamers in the dappled light for a bit too long now, sheepskin slipper calm faces and milkiness. The sharps are giggling to themselves and hastily scratching at the dirt floor below them.
A balancing act plays on the fuzzy screen in front of me. Even when they walk with seeming ease, they are never easy.
