Salinyay-blog - Bananafish

So I entered. So I lost.       I lost it all with my eyes   wide open.

Ocean Vuong, Threshold (via: skinthepoet)

st-roch

Musée des Beaux Arts Marseille, France 10:27 a.m / 27 ° (prolly)

Jacques-Louis David (French painter) - 1748, Paris, FR St-Roch intércedant la Vierge pour la guérison des pestifecés Saint Roch Interceding with the Virgin for the Plague-Stricken

from old english 'martyr', late latin 'martyr' & doric greek 'martyr'; a witness, a proof, bystander, behoof. take all the blame in the world & thrust it upon a humble man until the weight of grief drowns him down to a single knee. to grab another man's mysery & wear it until fingers run black & every pore in the canvas of a body is painted in cold sweat. do we fold our hands in prayer to let our right tell our left there might be some wisdom in regret?

men and deity can't waltz in the dark; as men trip in shadows & deities only sway in the light. martyr & deity cross sights that hide words; martyr says grace; deity says wait (she's so hard to please but she's a forest fire).

belief turns to faith only when your feet run past the cliff's edge. it then whispers: roch, grab your fellow man's pain and make it your own; catapult it to the skies until the beads in your rosary become buboes under your skin. roch awaits a celestial intervention on the misery of humankind & holds dear the flames of disease. preaching hope & aching. miracles à la carte don't exist, roch later realized this when deities handed him his own cure while every standing being surrounding him, crumbled. but u a saint now, roch. u iconic.

- @skinthepoet

An anchor doesn’t hold you back. It grounds you.

Bruce Adler (via wnq-writers)

Dear god: I just want to be believed in. Dear god: I had a syrup dream – the sky was grey and sinking, clouds of sugar and milk. Dear god: We don’t have churches anymore, just the blood that we kept in them. Dear god: I named the animals and now they’ve named me back – deathgirl, gentle hand, silver teeth. Dear god: In the end, water is thicker than blood. Water is heavier than anything else. Dear god: Laila killed those cats with her bare hands. Dear god: I have difficulty with faith. Dear god: I have difficulty with apologies. Dear: god. Deer god. Dear, god. Dear god.

Olive Prays, Yasmin Belkhyr (via wildflowerveins)

To be touched so lovingly, so fondly, as if one were still healthy. As if one were still worthy of affection and respect? It was cheering. It gave us hope.  We were perhaps not so unlovable as we had come to believe

George Saunders (Lincoln in the Bardo)

The way I splash your relentless name In shivers about me. Watch him wallow. If he tastes mud as bitter as this poem   Of mine, then I win – and you love me.

Jericho Brown, Grip (via: skinthepoet)

note to self: don’t stop fighting

brain rain by .simstorm Via Flickr