And On The Third Day I Told Him I Like The Street Lamp View From The Window And I Could Hear His Smile
And on the third day I told him I like the street lamp view from the window And I could hear his smile Through a chuckle of thick bush That will never sing in my ears again
The grey indifference between dusk and dawn If I listen closely, I can still hear his swan song Lonely as the sound of lying on the ground Where possibilities pool and dreamers go to drown
Without fail you cross my mind From time to time Spitting skeletal rhymes And climbing mountains in my head Here’s my letter to the dead
More Posts from Amandaaholic and Others
I Have A Dream...
And that is to trip balls with someone/some people and tie-dye the shit out of some clothes, paint on whatever we call a canvas, write poems and songs and sing-alongs, just turn into Andy Warhol faries and creatures of the night. Let's get creative, people.
ya'll bitches get a first sneak preview at my new Friday the 13th tattoo still fresh off the table
for shits and giggles, i guess.
one of my favorite cold opens
So my boyfriend’s mom bought me a Mindful Colouring book for Christmas before I went to jail, and I finally coloured in my first piece! I’m so in love with this, and it really does help w stress.
It allows you to fully envelop your mind, and forget about all the problems you’re having while you have fun and colour. Plus, it helps me create some art while I’m waiting for the warmth until I get back outside and paint. 😊🎨
change
change.
a change in scenery
and change of pace
while i keep my space
you build miles while i build minutes
what’s the speed limit
it takes to diminish someone’s spirits
is it the cold
as the distance grows
is it seeing who can put on a bigger show
i’m not afraid to take the stage
i refuse to go in another cage
but if we’re both in the spotlight
blinding white, like a deer in headlights
how can we find each other tonight?
cause maybe we can’t hold hands
when we’re too busy holding our cigarettes
dry lips, to occupied to build connections
of affections
to those we so desperately cling on showing
baby, i’m glowing
no wait. it’s slowing
dragging like a cripple in mud
heavy like a high school backpack
in the summer
heat
heating up
when you think you’ve had enough
burning
like your grandmother’s cast iron
sizzling
until
it cracks in your broken mirror
of the reflection you’ve left behind
i thought
but that’s the thing about skeletons
they’re a part of you apart from you
shadows stretch and shrink
because just when you think
you’re in control
you fall deeper in the rabbit hole
today I turn 27, but here's a funny video of me last year on my birthday dying for a second. 💨
Fun day with this cutie aamanda-rae
The phone screen is the lamp… and we are all moths.
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