text post from 1 month ago

i wish there were more than 24 hours in a day and beverages were $1 and growing up didn’t hurt so much


text post from 3 months ago

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Old Streets at Night

The Night Watchman, Karl Martin August Splittgerber // Moonlit Italian Street, Ivan Avgustovich Veltz (1908)


text post from 3 months ago

“If someday the moon calls you by your name don’t be surprised, because every night I tell her about you.”

Shahrazad al-Khalij


text post from 3 months ago

need a cup of coffee. an excellent therapist, some wiser older human to cry to. a poem that’ll have my neck between its teeth, a million dollars, to go somewhere far. to retreat, to overcome my fear of trying and of facing a blank page. etc, etc


photo post from 3 months ago

e.e. cummings, from ‘Metamorphosis’ (in Uncollected Poems), Complete Poems: 1904-1962

[Text ID: “We’ve plodded through a weird and weary time,
Called Winter by the calendar alone;”]