I am sorry about the blood you taste in these poems. It was boiling, and I didn’t know where else to put it. On my best days, I am still a little angry. On my worst days, I am not sorry for it. I want you to listen closely to what I don’t want to say. If the sadness grabs you by the collar, don’t kiss her back. When you are no one else’s first choice, be your own. Forgive the broken winged birds for forgetting how to fly, and forgive the splintered boats for learning how to sink. I know I’m in no place to tell you any of this, but my hands needed to hold something, and this pen is all I had. Lately, I’ve been too much wind and not enough rain. All this sits inside of me, and I just knock things down. Nothing ever grows like it used to. Maybe I’m losing my mind, but I’m too busy searching for my pulse to notice. I am telling you this, so you don’t ever think it’s pretty. I need you to stop setting the things you love on fire. I need you to know that there are better ways to find light. I need you to know that there are better ways to find warmth.
Y.Z, A letter to my future self (via breathless)
I didn’t realize how badly I was treated until someone started treating me with respect.
Racism isn’t born, folks. It’s taught. I have a 2-year-old son. Know what he hates? Naps. End of list.
Denis Leary, 1992 (via cityandcolourblind)
Why didn’t I learn to treat everything like it was the last time. My greatest regret was how much I believed in the future.
Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (via larmoyante)
Weeping is not the same thing as crying. It takes your whole body to weep, and when it’s over, you feel like you don’t have any bones left to hold you up.
Sarah Ockler, Twenty Boy Summer (via a-thousand-words)