— Aurelia Plath (via hellanne)
it’s already beyond repair.
You wear it broken."
— James L. White (via hellanne)
With maddening hunger.
I’d write to the point of suffocation.
I’d write myself into nervous breakdowns,
Manuscripts spiralling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing.
And I’d write about you
a lot more
than I should."
— Benedict Smith (via hellanne)
— Pamela Ann (via hellanne)
— Margaret Atwood, Six Word Stories (via hellanne)
— Donna Lynn Hope (via hellanne)
— Franz Kafka (via hellanne)
how seeing the shape of your mouth
that first time, I kept staring
until my blood turned to rain.
Some things take root
in the brain and just don’t
— Tim Seibles, excerpt from 'Slow Dance' (via hellanne)
I love boys who will never love me back.
Letting the phone go to voicemail when my
mother calls. Biting my nails bloody.
Wearing dresses when I should wear jeans.
Making my body small. Forgetting names
but not asking for them again. Maybe I should
have called. Maybe you should stop calling.
Maybe I should have remembered how you
take your coffee, your favorite band,
that you smoke a pack a day. Maybe I should
have apologized. If it’s any consolation,
my next birthday will be me eating cake in bed
and licking the icing off of my fingers alone."