~VeilofMystery
Emily
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stuff i should've told brian.1.stuff i should've told brian.
if i ever have a son i will name him isaac, because isaac means laughter and that is what you gave me and then took away. or maybe i will name him elliott after the musician elliott smith, or oliver because guess what, i just like the name.
you said that if you were ever to have a daughter you'd name her kelsey because you met me and you loved me and so you thought that the name kelsey means "someone beautiful who will come into your life and change you forever." i didn't have the heart to tell you that kelsey is really just some scandinavian name that means "from the ship island."
i'm laughter and an
by ~estallidos
fifty-seven degrees.i.fifty-seven degrees.
it is summer and i want to write you poems
about how it is fifty-seven degrees and i am shaking. it is summer and i want to crawl through your second-story
window and tell you about the butterfly i saw and named "cloudcityscandal," but you are always asleep and dreamless. it is summer and whenever i sleep i only dream about you, so how is that fair. it is summer and i don't go to church but spend all my time confessing. it is summer and i don't discharge static before pumping gas. it is summer and where is my paradise. where is my sanity.
where is my personal weight-loss
by ~estallidos
you can't make them love you.He is beautiful, new, unexplored. He has wanted to kiss her ever since they met one week ago and fell prey to helpless chemistry.you can't make them love you.
“Don’t,” she says, moving her hands in a subconscious “yes” pattern along his arm as he rubs his cheek against hers. “You don’t even know my favourite colour.” The wind cuts through her thin jacket, and his chest is so warm.
“Red,” he guesses, improbably correct. His ears are cold.
by ~estallidos
telling a sad story backwards-17.telling a sad story backwards-
it smells like grief and sterilized metal.
i climb into andrew’s bed, though the nurses have strictly forbidden it. he closes his eyes and holds me tightly, because he says when he can’t see me, it is easier to pretend i never happened to him.
15.
he pushes the cart aggressively down the aisle, pretending to mow over old ladies doing their sunday shopping.
"stop," i say giggling, lobbing a can of ravioli at him.
for a moment i think he simply didn't see me throw the can; it glances off his chest and falls to the floor, exploding in a pattern of
by ~estallidos
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Canada
- Interests: horseback riding, photography, friends, painting, drawing, writing
- Favourite movie: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
- Favourite band or musician: Damien Rice
- Shell of choice: the ones on the beach =)
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'It'll be wonderful. I'll be way up there, way above the world, where I can look down and say, "Look at what I've done everyone! Aren't you proud of me?"'
--Margaret Holland
"Remember that all artists need support, especially from eachother."
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We become attached to what's familiar, and sometimes we hold onto things that are safe and predictable, even if they are bad for us.
we should talk some time
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If i could make the world as pure and strange as what i see, I'd put you in the mirror that i put infront of me.
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We become attached to what's familiar, and sometimes we hold onto things that are safe and predictable, even if they are bad for us.
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If i could make the world as pure and strange as what i see, I'd put you in the mirror that i put infront of me.
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