(Source: imnotwordy, via crystalux)
(Source: airows, via thatkindofwoman)
"There must be something strangely sacred in salt. It is in our tears and in the sea."
- Kahlil Gibran, Sea and Foam (via thatkindofwoman)
Lost In Translation, 2003
Lost In Translation, 2003
(Source: 14271202, via alonesomes)
(Source: lovesmesomesass, via alonesomes)
"It was a Saturday when he finally told me that he understood why I wrote about things that hadn’t happened. “You’re not a liar, you just remember all the lives you used to live. It’s like whatever hand comes through us when we die and wipes the slate clean forgot about you. You’re living in hundreds of different bodies and you never know which one is bleeding.”
One day, he told me that he felt the bones of a jazz singer who died from heartbreak when he touched me. He told me he could hear her voice melting my tongue with trumpets. He told me I tasted like whiskey when we kissed.
and I love him better than anyone. I love him in each body and each person who whispers like a ghost in my veins. We dance in my cluttered living room and sing along to Etta James like there isn’t anywhere to be. He loves so hard, it hurts. The shoemaker from Paris likes to talk through me, somedays. She likes to kiss his feet and talk about French cinema. The painter from Greece likes to trace his jawbone as if it’s the road leading up to her house. She likes to run her fingers along his spine and count the steps to her front door. He has found names for all of the people I have been. He has a list of all the colors that each of them are. I am white, because he says that’s the only color he can see after he looks into the sun. The little boy who couldn’t speak, but played the piano like Mozart, was blue. The nun who prayed to God until her throat bled was purple. He sits with me while I write my poems. He smiles and names the color. Baby blue, black, yellow, cerulean, gold, green.
He is red. The kind of red that has a pulse. It beats angry and persistent in my hands. When we kiss, he pulls my heart out with his teeth. Neither one of us apologize for the blood"
- Colors | Caitlyn S. (via alonesomes)
"when women devour
it is for survival
when women take more than they give
it is self-preservation
where did we start looking
what day was it?
how many times have we
borrowed from our own bones
just to keep moving?
how many of us are empty
when we take, it is already
when we give, it is expected
and I am so proud of the monster
in my blood
she fought so hard to be this
they showed me the world
told me I could have it
if I just gave a little something
crack my chest open
and I will spill pomegranate seeds
into your hands
what they don’t tell you about Eve
the forbidden fruit
was her own heart"
- Eve | Caitlyn S. (via alonesomes)