absurdlittletree:
my heart’s not in it, oh no
absurdlittletree:
cats are my soft spot, always
absurdlittletree:
a clover grows in my heart everytime i feel the sun through my face
absurdlittletree:
I think I feel too much
absurdlittletree:
love will tear us apart, again
absurdlittletree:
i’m a passenger
absurdlittletree:
jesus doesn’t want me for a sunbeam, sunbeams are never made like me
absurdlittletree:
the images stuck in your head
absurdlittletree:
and you run to catch with the sun, but it’s sinking
absurdlittletree:
the grass was greener
absurdlittletree:
fleurs
absurdlittletree:
manuscripts don’t burn
absurdlittletree:
your messed up world will thrill me
absurdlittletree:
behold the cat trainer
absurdlittletree:
“How nice—to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.”
absurdlittletree:
I need some older, wiser being to cry to. I talk to God, but the sky is empty, and Orion walks by and doesn’t speak.
absurdlittletree:
Tonight as it gets cold tell yourself what you know which is nothing but the tune your bones play as you keep going.
absurdlittletree:
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon
absurdlittletree:
shade of blue
absurdlittletree:
emotional motion sickness
absurdlittletree:
and who hears when animals cry?
absurdlittletree:
the usual bellyache and existential crises
absurdlittletree:
you used to have a face straight out of a magazine
absurdlittletree:
nous sommes nos choix
absurdlittletree:
comfort zone
absurdlittletree:
it broke the heart of men and flowers and girls and trees
absurdlittletree:
a generation lost in space
absurdlittletree:
and i just wanna be there when the lighting strikes
absurdlittletree:
do you still feel younger than you thought you would by now?
absurdlittletree:
born to gaze into night skies
