@spring-sonnets on Tumblr

spring-sonnets reblogged

gidaryeong

kerryweaverlesbian

Unintellectual property. Really dumb but it's mine.

spring-sonnets reblogged

gidaryeong

spacesweepers

Nineteen Ways of Looking At Wang Wei: How a Chinese Poem is Translated Eliot Weinberger & Octavio Paz, 1987

my try :}

spring-sonnets reblogged

showtunesingingchemist-blog

~Alexandra Dorine

spring-sonnets reblogged

cecily-cardew-blog

reading classic novels outside of school is gay culture you can’t read the classics if you’re straight

spring-sonnets

on venus, the birds are made of origami paper, creases of paper hidden beneath mismatched wings and patterned beaks. when the temperature drops, they huddle in groups, spreading their bodies thinly for intense warmth. they sing campfire songs in summer, re-open battle wounds in fall, and sing freely in spring –– their mating season. to a certain extent, they are enviable, but deeply conservative, rooted in gender roles and social constructs and white picket fences. when they die, scientists from NASA send satellites to study their beautiful ivory skeletons, the patterns of their wings splaying apart into gorgeous, identical flower petals.

lovebirds / suzy

spring-sonnets

Anonymous asked:

Your username is so lovely

aw! thank you, you’re too sweet! xo

spring-sonnets reblogged

mohtz

when you grow but the walls around you stay the same

#god i love her artwork

spring-sonnets

addiction is like having an one-night stand that you were somehow roped into, promising yourself that this would be the last time; then finding yourself in the same room two more times, three more times, until you can map out entire bodies, blindfolded. obsession is like having an old friend who lingers in the back of your mind, a steady, toxic presence. you can't concentrate. you can't think. you find yourself wandering to their apartment at ungodly hours to wash away the pain, hobbling and feeling familiar knots when you realize that you've forgotten your key. humans are naturally skilled at manipulating others and feeling regret days too late; we're also good at lying to ourselves, did you know that?

medicine / suzy

spring-sonnets reblogged

punziella

Can you believe some idiot tried to cut No Man’s Land lmao

spring-sonnets reblogged

mohtz

@ lisbon (fyi this isn’t photography, it’s entirely drawn!)

spring-sonnets

sometimes when you talk to me, when we're alone in empty movie theaters, i lose the ability to think. my head is a blank slate, and every word that escapes from my mouth is someone else's. i want to say something witty, i want to make you smile -- but i can only bask in the radiance of your compliments, wither and shrivel when i remember something humiliating, and pluck petals from flowers, hoping (in vain) that i won't be replaced, that i won't be forgotten.

spring-sonnets

spring-sonnets reblogged

teenangstverse

to (some of) the girls who built me up with clay from sippy cups and playground days: 1. flower girl in the yellow shorts: you are the softest shade of self and i want to paint masterpieces from your unapologetic way of living. let’s drive away next year to the city that chose us. of all the girls i have scoured for my reflection, i see the most of myself in you. whisper to me the ways you scare and disappoint yourself, i bet our shame and secrets are the same. ii. fierce girl of foreign tongue: you came to us jagged from the times they broke you and scarred from the times you tried to break yourself. inject me with your courage the way you infect me with your laughter; loud opinions look good on you and i want to try them on too. most of all i love how you taught yourself to be gentle. i know it was hard to yank off the armour you welded yourself into but i hope the feeling of our love against your bare skin is worth it. iii. girl i have loved longest: among the jewels of the world you shine brighter than all. i think kindness must be stitched deep into your soul. here is a small slice of advice (crumbs in comparison to the bakery of wisdom you offered me over cups of earl grey tea): it is not your job to save any person except yourself. you have a gift for bandaging wounds, but first pick the glass out of your own cuts. remember there are leeches out there who will cry until they suck you dry. old friend, you are not a sponge, you were made for more than soaking up the woes of others. say no when you have to, scream if it that’s what it takes to be heard. iv. butterfly girl fluent in words and numbers, english and equations: i’m sorry that i did not get to know you better, did not hold you closer. we’ve known each other for over two thirds of our lives but for the most part we stayed on the fringes of friendship. you were always quiet. i know silence too, i understand it well. but here is a pact that should be spoken: as we forge a path into this strange new world, let us discover what it is not to hide behind the tongues of friends. let us not close our hearts and mouths out of fear. v. enigmatic girl with the changing hair and restless heart: during my mole months i did not see daylight until i received you message. (are you okay? i miss you) i never told you but you were the only reason i left the house that week. thank-you, girl whose love folds along the equator. i always envied your ability to belong anywhere. but one humid night you admit to me that you feel lost, adrift. torn between two people who want to hurt each other almost as much as they want to love you. please know that no matter how far and long you run you will always have a home in me. vi. tiny girl with the mile-a-minute voice: how the letters and days twist together when you are close. i love you for the way my laughter spills out, ugly and loud, when you talk. i love how deeply you care, how some memories etch themselves into the back of your skull. i did not know such passion could be contained in the entire cosmos - never mind in your elfin vessel. vii. brilliant girl with the world at your feet: please throw me the scraps from your life. you are the most beautiful creature i have ever beheld but that is the least of you accomplishments. is there anything you can’t do? teach me to speak like you, stitch like you, write like you, think like you, challenge myself like you, work like you, love like you. you could soar so high on the wings you built yourself, you could see things we could never dream up. my only request is that you don’t lose sight of me, waving from the tallest hill i can climb. viii. fire-hot girl with the ice-cold eyes: you were the final one to join our circle and you made it whole. your jokes have a bite, your compliments have a kick. you could make the sun orbit you, you could make the stars rearrange themselves for the chance to shine on you. saturated girl, i know how hard it is to allow for vulnerability, to tell someone you care. sincere love is throwing yourself off a cliff and trusting the waves to cradle you, but believe me, nothing else compares.

to my eight sisters, thank-you for our seven days, thank-you for our six years // L.H. (via teenangstverse)

#oh god this is so beautiful

spring-sonnets

i don't want to disturb you, i don't want to bother you. i don't want to be in your way, i promise. i slam the brakes, i crash into walls, i walk past you without looking back. i'm so afraid of being noticed, i fade away -- stars shine so much brighter than you and i.

spring-sonnets

i hate reducing myself to flowers and seasons, pretty things that wilt in three days or pass quietly in three months. i wish i could write about the ocean, the night sky, anger and jealousy and even fear, complicated emotions that i find hard to express -- out loud and on paper. i wish i could write from the soul -- but instead, i write about tulips in a field and their uneventful lives, pretending to write from the heart.

spring-sonnets

spring-sonnets reblogged

jupiterfemme

idk who my soulmate is but i love her and i hope she’s having a good day

spring-sonnets

i'm so disoriented all the time, i feel like i'm free-falling into space. my world is a blur of dark colors and i can't see two feet in front of me, i'm so afraid of what i've become. sometimes i don't remember where i am, or even who i am -- that terrifies me. completely.

spring-sonnets

i type so softly that only my ears can make out the quiet creaks of my computer keys. i speak so softly that i'm often asked to repeat words and sentences again and again, until they can unscramble the alphabet soup dripping through my veins. i tremble in front of crowds. i whisper and whisper and whisper, my voice passing through cracks and windows like a ghost haunting the walls of my throat.

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