Walking Irony

Oo la la la.. It's the way that we rock when we doin our thang

I fold my doctor’s receipts into
bookmarks and tuck them between my
ribs but I still keep losing my place between
visits. When you asked why I stopped taking
my pills, I said because if anyone got close enough
to kiss me, they’d taste the residue against my
teeth and only stick around out of fear I’d take
eight more once they leave;

I left my diagnosis on the table at home before I
went out today because I’d been doing better, I’d
been feeling better, doc; but I want the next Hurricane
to be named after Hope because it can wreck all I’ve
come to terms with over years in a matter of minutes.
It’s a false sense of peace before the next wave. So, do
you think we could do that? Do you? If so, then I’d
like to ask for a scale to measure my tremors, too. If so,
I’d like to know when to tell the ones I love to take cover
and find shelter because all they’ve ever known of home in
me will turn to acres of empty land and darkness soon. Can
you label me a storm warning, doc? Please, can you?

You need to understand that I am rain, and a broken
compass, pain: dressed up with a heavy smile and aching
muscles from standing back up so many times.

I have reminders of this fight tattooed on my body
and even still, I keep slipping on things that overwhelm
me, until I stand again, and even still, I’m unsteady.
I just, I think I need better traction.

But doc, I don’t know if I’m ready. I
don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know
where to go. I do know that this makes me
hard to be with. I do know that this turns my
name into a biohazard for upbeat environments;
So yesterday I tried swallowing your evaluation of me
so it would stop coming up in my conversations as an
excuse, but the ink stained your sentences onto my
tongue and now every time I speak it shows through.

I just desperately want all of this to stop showing through.

—   valentina thompson,
"I Wrote My Psychologist a Poem So She’d Stop Asking How I Was Feeling" (via theseoverusedwords)

(via theseoverusedwords)

You gotta put me on

“i enjoy: deep conversations. undeniable substance. unrestrained passion. electrifying connections. good heart throbbing sex, and soul-ties.”

—   Overlyxclusive (via kushandwizdom)

(via theseoverusedwords)

“I am afraid of getting older. I am afraid of getting married. Spare me from cooking three meals a day—spare me from the relentless cage of routine and rote. I want to be free… I want, I want to think, to be omniscient.”

—   Sylvia Plath written in 1949 at age 17.   (via dicappuccino)

(Source: learningfromthehands, via theseoverusedwords)

you didn’t love her.

you just didn’t want to be alone.

or maybe, she was just good for your ego.

or, or maybe she just made you feel better about your miserable life.

but you didn’t love her,

because you don’t destroy people you love.

—   Greys Anatomy (via bl-ossomed)

(Source: mothsjpg-currently-inactive, via im-sad-lets-have-sex)

“And if you’re going to walk out of my life and leave, I ask one thing of you. Once you’re gone and you see that I’m doing fine, don’t you dare come back.”

—   Things I wish I could tell you (via soulsscrawl)

(Source: latelycravingmore, via im-sad-lets-have-sex)

“I used to think that poetry was just words on paper. I realized that I was wrong when you and I laid on your bed after making love, I was running my fingers through your hair and you stared at me as I slowly fell asleep. Within the last few seconds that I had caught a glimpse of you, I realized that you are poetry. You are poetry in the way you walk, in the way you talk. The way you caressed my body and ran your fingers all down my spine.. You were a piece of art. You are, I am, we were.. Art.”

“I’m scared as hell to want you. But here I am, wanting you anyway.”

—   Meredith Grey (via blackbruise)

(Source: de-ceiver, via theseoverusedwords)


Timeless words…especially in today’s world.

(via theseoverusedwords)

“Don’t fall in love with me because I’m not so pretty when it’s 3AM with a face full of tears& no words for you.”