may i be weaved in your hair?

love, love, love.


love is a dress that you made, long to hide your knees.

The Spring and the Fall

In the spring of the year, in the spring of the year,
I walked the road beside my dear.
The trees were black where the bark was wet.
I see them yet, in the spring of the year.
He broke me a bough of the blossoming peach
That was out of the way and hard to reach.

In the fall of the year, in the fall of the year,
I walked the road beside my dear.
The rooks went up with a raucous trill.
I hear them still, in the fall of the year.
He laughed at all I dared to praise
And broke my heart, in little ways.

Year be spring or year be falling,
The bark will drip and the birds be calling.
There's much that's fine to see and hear
In the spring of a year, in the fall of a year.
'Tis not love's going hurt my days,
But that it went in little ways.

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

ya gotta give it to me.

i've got that ache down to an art.

sit alone in the dark and smoke yourself to sleep.

I’ve been absent lately in an attempt for forget all thoughts. Unsuccessful. You’re attracted to a tragedy. And with whiskey in hand, I attempt to tip the scales.

"Morocco. Seat by the window, please."

I love the way the bottle feels on my lips. I find more comfort in that than in you.

i believe in the courage of the broken hearts.

the hot and cold is wearing me down. i want nothing more than to hold the sunshine in my hands. to show the world just how bright you can shine. i see a different side of the sun, a side this spot on the map never sees. show me. show me. stop hiding your smile, and forget about the rain. you're up and full of life, but you always run away. you are night and day. and darlin', nights sure get lonely around here.










here is light in my lady's house
and there's none but some falling rain

ache.

"Give me liquor or give me death." -Patrick Henry