Up into the silence the green
silence with a white earth in it
you will(kiss me)go
out into the morning the young
morning with a warm world in it
(kiss me)you will go
on into the sunlight the fine
sunlight with a firm day in it
you will go(kiss me
down into your memory
and a memory and memory
i)kiss me(will go).
People escape into other things; you don’t escape into poetry. You confront yourself when you are reading poems; they draw you inward, they don’t project you outward. I think people want to escape themselves. They do not want to do the work. They want to been entertained. Poetry is a kind of entertainment but a different kind, its meditative.
I love you more than my own skin and even though you don’t love me the same way, you love me anyways, don’t you? And if you don’t, I’ll always have the hope that you do, and I’m satisfied with that. Love me a little. I adore you.
I think I missed out on the “neat and cute handwriting” gene that every girl seems to have and this is unfair
Intelligent people have messier handwriting because they think fast. When you think and process things faster, you can also write quicker, but it’s going to be sloppy. People with neat writing are usually (no offense) not as smart. I embrace my shit writing.
It’s so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone.
There is one thing you should know about writing. It will inevitably lead you to terrible places, as you cannot write about something if you have not lived it. Though the most important thing to bear in mind is this: you are there as a tourist and must always remain one. There was a very…