Edna St. Vincent Millay, from a letter to Arthur Davison Ficke written c. October 1945 (x)
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It’s my soul,
IT ISNT YOURS ANYMORE!
Never seen The Price Is Right
I’m a liar, I’ve been on that shit since ‘99
You make me like a clown
Clap clap, you’re a clever, clever cookie now
Waterfalls coming out your mouth
What the hell are we doing now?
Waterfalls tearing you apart
What the hell are we doing now?
Something’s in the air
I’m coming up, I’m coming up
Something hit me hard
I’m falling off, I’m falling off
Something made me lose
I lost control, I lost control, I lost it
Something’s got me down
It’ll come around, it’ll come around, I got it
I won’t waste your time
I won’t wait for too long
I can’t wait, carry on
I won’t wait for too long
I can’t wait, carry on
I won’t wait for too long
I can’t wait, carry on
I won’t wait for too long
I can’t wait, carry on
You know it’s bad when I write the whole poem of the raven on my chalk board
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. “
“'Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this, and nothing more.”
- the raven, by Edgar Allen poe, 1845
“Have you ever just looked at someone while they’re doing something small like driving or laughing and just smile bc u like them so much.”
— Unknown
June Gehringer, โEARTH IS AN ANAGRAM FOR HEART, U FUCKING IDIOTSโ
[Text ID: โI donโt want to talk about it. / I want to lie in what little grass remains / and try to fit your heart inside of mine.โ]
kerta-the-53rd
