The Gravel in Your Guts

boxofoctaves:kostenloshandyorten.de

We lost ourselves on the way down.

And forgot to recollect on the way back up.

We are so alone.

And ———

you being here really matters to me.

Your lovely porcelain body——

in front of my undeserving eyes.

Those hushed words you speak,

the softness of your palm against mine.

Sometimes the shadows get darker,

and the air gets colder.

But when you’re with me

—-the darkness doesn’t seem so bad.

God that title is awful.

23rd December

I am not yours, not lost in you,

 Not lost, although I long to be

Lost as a candle lit at noon,

 Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

You love me, and I find you still

 A spirit beautiful and bright,

Yet I am I, who long to be

 Lost as a light is lost in light.

Oh plunge me deep in love—-put out

  My senses, leave me deaf and blind,

Swept by the tempest of your love,

  A taper in a rushing wind.

 1914  Esmokeking

Gabriel James Miranda. I’m 22 and a native of East Los Angeles. I love writing, reading, peanut butter, and tea. My greatest desire is to be a great writer. If you like to read or are looking for a weird person to talk to, this is the right place to be.
My writing.

ettajojo:

Stephen Hazel (Contemporary, American) Rhino Woodcut. AP. 11 x 18 inches

(via endoskeletal)hundefuttertests.de

1st August