I remember one night I was falling asleep slowly it was probably the 43rd minute that I had laid in my bed and I prosmied myself by the 45th I’d be dead so I shut my eyes and counted to 60 halfway there and I rolled to my side and here was ed my imaginary dead friend he has only one eye and 7 fingers but I love him anyways and on top of his head he has burning red hair just like me and maybe he’s my twin I never got to see. I told him I loved him dearly and that he’ll always be near me in the land of infinite eternity heavy breathing heaving serpant can’t you see? I’ve had the life sucked right out of me and if I ever really got the chance to kiss death on the head I’d go straight for the throat and be sure to kill him first before he got me either you or I and I can’t help by cry when the feelings come up that we wish to welcome this fellow without even a yelp or a whimper just a tired puppy dog eyed temper. I don’t really want to leave this place because I am not done here yet and I have things I ache to do before I am only a reminder by the wind that whips someone elses face and so I have not laid my hand upon yours and told you from my face to your face I love you and thank you and we haven’t gone to paris yet and drank french coffee and we haven’t camped in a van in a forest yet and made food over the fire, and I haven’t even cooked you garlic bread at 12pm when you slept in all morning and most importantly we have yet to even greet each other properly! I think one day when we can afford it we should run away somewhere and not worry about coming back. We’ll be back one day guys, don’t worry. See you then. And run to catch the plane and when we’re flying over the ocean and the lights of europe come into view we can then turn to one another and oh it’s true we made it we’re through.
A house shifts on it’s foundations in the Lower 9th Ward in New Orleans, still abandoned following hurricane Katrina.
Source: Robert Moran. (flickr)
your words hang heavy in the air and i care for too long
but i don’t realize all the time passing and my rib cage caving in on itself
until the brittle bones snap on me that one morning
i didn’t realize what was happening
i just had to accept it
so i swallowed my words
and a bottle of pain killers
they didn’t stop me from feeling sore after our war
the ghosts from my past wont leave me alone
they sweep in and out of my sores
they feed off my core
i shut the door
but they just want more and more
i find myself stuck in this dark pit
and i am left wondering if you were ever much of a gift
if so, one i no longer wish to lift
to let weigh down my soul
maybe you were more of a lesson learned
i am stilll bruised
but somehow moving forward
Felicia Anne 2013 ©
I turned to ash without even a glimpse from your eye
There’s no denying that
You enjoy hurting what you love
Like you never loved at all
Built your walls so high
Made me climb and climb and climb
Just to fall down again
Wonder how I hadn’t yet died
You remember those times?
It was such an overhwelming calm
When I realized you were never my home
I think I needed something
Anything at all
And there you were
Needing your puppet
Lost puppy kind of thing
Like throwing out your fishing rod
In a pond filled of sad and lonely fish
I make myself sick
Felicia Anne 2013 ©
This year taught me
The art of leaving
Getting out of bed.
What if my insides were bleeding, flowing through me like electric shocks
Tiny screams seep from your eyelids falling down your cheeks like rain from the stormy sky
The mirror reminds you of all the never ending lies
Always saying you are ready to let go and die, I am afraid you may even be too weak for that
And so where does that leave us?
Dead inside with the terrifying future; did you ever figure out that most words have no meaning?
Felicia Anne 2013 ©
An East German soldier helping a boy cross the newly formed ‘Berlin Wall,’ 1961.
From what is known, the photograph was taken the day the emerging Wall was put up in August 1961 and the boy was found on the opposite side of the wall from his family. Despite given orders by the East German government to let no one pass, the soldier helped the boy through the barbwire. Near the exact time this photo was taken, it was said that the soldier was seen by his superior officer who immediately detached the soldier from his unit.
Concerning the fate of the soldier, most descriptions that come with photograph say that “no one knows what became of him.”
one of my favorite posts
This is really beautiful
Teddy Roosevelt’s diary entry from the day his wife died. He never spoke of her death again.
i reblog this every time its on my dash
this is so sad