J'reve les yeux ouverts...

I ate the sun rays of the diamond dusk and the surface of the bay that last touched the sky is in the pit of my stomach.
This is a dream that I’ve been having
where you take me by the wrists
and push me up against the wall
on the night before our wedding.
You do nothing else,
but look intensely into my eyes
like you’re looking for answers,
like you’re begging for clues.
In the morning,
I wake up covered in Jasmine.
This means we’re in Cairo,
it means we’re finally home.
We ride a felucca down the Nile
for miles and months,
until it meets the Danube,
where we are greeted
by an accordion-playing unicorn head.
These are memories
that we should be making
instead, this is a nightmare that haunts me.

#dreams #writing #poetry #prose #spilledink #wtf #unicorn #theyrenotreal #yourenotreal #ohhellobaby #comehereoften #accordion #vienna #wien #cairo #love #nightmare #dieliebedasisteinding

This is a dream that I’ve been having
where you take me by the wrists
and push me up against the wall
on the night before our wedding.
You do nothing else,
but look intensely into my eyes
like you’re looking for answers,
like you’re begging for clues.
In the morning,
I wake up covered in Jasmine.
This means we’re in Cairo,
it means we’re finally home.
We ride a felucca down the Nile
for miles and months,
until it meets the Danube,
where we are greeted
by an accordion-playing unicorn head.
These are memories
that we should be making
instead, this is a nightmare that haunts me.

#dreams #writing #poetry #prose #spilledink #wtf #unicorn #theyrenotreal #yourenotreal #ohhellobaby #comehereoften #accordion #vienna #wien #cairo #love #nightmare #dieliebedasisteinding

I’ve fallen in love with all your different versions. He was right, love is definitely a thing. That thing for me could either be a notebook, a pencil, and a white wine spritzer. Or you. Honestly, though, I think it’s you. Yes, for me, it’s definitely you.

#writing #tryingtowrite #instagrammingthatshitwhilewriting #lol #poetry #poetsofinstagram #lovepoem #writersofinstagram #kunsthaus (at Kunsthaus Wien)

I’ve fallen in love with all your different versions. He was right, love is definitely a thing. That thing for me could either be a notebook, a pencil, and a white wine spritzer. Or you. Honestly, though, I think it’s you. Yes, for me, it’s definitely you.

#writing #tryingtowrite #instagrammingthatshitwhilewriting #lol #poetry #poetsofinstagram #lovepoem #writersofinstagram #kunsthaus (at Kunsthaus Wien)

"I am not rain, but you hold me like I could
put out the wildfire spreading in your veins
Your mouth has found a way to breathe in mine.
You make me coffee and ask me
what I dreamt about last night.
I sip and don’t answer.
You are not sea, but I feel like I am drowning,
in a good way. My lungs are starting to learn
to replace oxygen with the syllables of your name
I make you an omelette and I ask you
what you want to do later.
You smile and don’t answer.
We are not earth, but I feel the ground
beneath our feet, our skin taking root
in the things we don’t say.”

Excerpt from Rooted.

#writing #poetry #poetsofinstagram #writersofinstagram #prose #spilledink #poem #lovepoem #trees #roots #earth #love

"I am not rain, but you hold me like I could
put out the wildfire spreading in your veins
Your mouth has found a way to breathe in mine.

You make me coffee and ask me
what I dreamt about last night.

I sip and don’t answer.

You are not sea, but I feel like I am drowning,
in a good way. My lungs are starting to learn
to replace oxygen with the syllables of your name

I make you an omelette and I ask you
what you want to do later.

You smile and don’t answer.

We are not earth, but I feel the ground
beneath our feet, our skin taking root
in the things we don’t say.”

Excerpt from Rooted.

#writing #poetry #poetsofinstagram #writersofinstagram #prose #spilledink #poem #lovepoem #trees #roots #earth #love

We are in the field where everything is black and white except for our eyes and you’re playing with my hair and you’re asking me to recite poetry and I love you and you have a knife and you’re thinking of driving it into my chest but you kiss me instead and pour venom in my mouth.

Excerpt from “The Dream Where I Argue With Your Ghost”

#writing #poetry #prose #excerpt #quote #spilledink #writersofinstagram #poetsofinstagram #venom #knife #blackandwhite

We are in the field where everything is black and white except for our eyes and you’re playing with my hair and you’re asking me to recite poetry and I love you and you have a knife and you’re thinking of driving it into my chest but you kiss me instead and pour venom in my mouth.

Excerpt from “The Dream Where I Argue With Your Ghost”

#writing #poetry #prose #excerpt #quote #spilledink #writersofinstagram #poetsofinstagram #venom #knife #blackandwhite

I often wonder how many people just walk past the places that cause me to pause because I feel the echoes of your footsteps in the streets.

#writing #pretendingtowrite #whatevs #dubai

I often wonder how many people just walk past the places that cause me to pause because I feel the echoes of your footsteps in the streets.

#writing #pretendingtowrite #whatevs #dubai

my father told my oldest sister he worries the most about me
all my siblings
five of us
he worries the most about me
I think it’s because,
in his words,
she feels everything

—Fortesa Latifi (via madgirlf)

(via alatenightstormwarning)

stolenwine:

St. Elmo’s Fire (1985)

Ugh. This fucking movie. 

I am a self-diagnosed past addict. I pine for lost love. I think incessantly about love I never had, love I really want to have, love I’ll never have.

—Tegan Quin (via durianquotes)

(Source: durianseeds, via fluerishing)

your body is collapsible

loqui:

quotable, pinchable.
once I sink teeth in
all I want is to compile you
in my arms:
a list of everything
right
with this world.

dummy

loqui:

here comes the burning,
bring out the salve.

here comes the sun,
pull the curtains closed.

here comes the learning,
cover your ears
and fall
at the wheel
like a crash test dummy
in love.