Salinyay-blog - Bananafish

I will write about you until my hand aches and my heart does not.

purpl-reign  (via wnq-writers)

It is quite unbelievable that there will be people that I will love unconditionally that I have not met yet. Somewhere out there, in a supermarket or singing in the shower, there are souls that have not touched mine yet but will, eventually.

// The Skies We’re Under j.d.m. (via poetryandthesea)

note to self: don’t stop fighting

between black & white, gray

in my dreams, we hold hands & laugh at the idiocy of ancient obsessions & insecurities. we walk on lonely beaches & dance with nature in rainy jungles barely known to humankind.

in my nightmares, i run to escape    wild dragons     & memories. the blues often tackle me, & when my body slaps the ground, the labyrinth i’m trapped in whispers in my ear:

“running is useless, boy. you’re a caged monster too”

- @skinthepoet

exposed, tortured, ecstatic—

Denise Levertov, from Sands of the Well: Poems; “Unaccompanied,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

scientists fear

with a hand on the window frame, you looked out at the night sky. & turning your head toward me, you said there was this theory about the universe being ever e   x      p        a           n             d                i                  n                     g.

that every star, planet, galaxy & blackhole currently alive, is endlessly drifting apart from it all.

as though in their hovering for distance, in their majestic swaying through stellar matter, every atom of the universe claimed independence from our shared existence.  

that same night our last the spellbinding vibes in your beauty & that rant over the cosmos, walked me into a laberynth of oblivion; cause what i forgot to tell you & what you didn’t seem to know, was that there is another theory out there: an antithesis on the dynamics of the universe.

scientists suspect the universe will eventually stop its expansion to begin its c o n t r a c t i o n. exactly as the ball vertically thrown to reach the sky, that at a certain height surrenders to gravity & starts its way down.

scientists fear that every star & planet & galaxy & blackhole will shrink into a single spot in place & time.   a sort of big bang in reverse. outside going in.

boom

which is to say: you fled away from me to smash piece by piece the things we had built. i guess in some shape or form we mimicked the universe by drifting away from each other; by sitting on opposite edges of this galaxy; dodging our own asteroids; breathing distant stardust & riding comets that might never cross paths.  

imagine, just imagine that these scientists’ fear comes true   & all we know to exist begins to compress; will the universe then bring us back to where we were?

a massive clash. gallactic friction.

cosmos to cosmos, blackhole to blackhole, planet to planet, & lips to lips.

hey, this might just be the universe reminding us that       we are destined to collide.

- @skinthepoet

I see you as a god / at the crossroads burning your secrets for lamplight.

Sade Murphy, from “self portrait: acetone and hesitance carved into linoleum,” published in Joint (via lifeinpoetry)

Downtown

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And what would we do, you and I, if we could know for sure that someone was out there, squinting through the dust, saying nothing is lost, that everything lives on waiting only to be wanted back badly enough?

excerpt from Don’t you wonder, sometimes? by Tracy K. Smith, Life on Mars (via: skinthepoet)