I've been reading a lot of Kierkegaard lately in the form of a little anthology comprising his journals and essays and seminal works; I love reading journals and letters written by my favorite thinkers because I'm that pompous ass and because it explores what is a distinct beauty in their very musing, a grace in the core of their self.
My heart is not so small that it cannot ache for the many; my conscience is not so limited as the number of words on my tongue; and my attentions do not only bend with the curve of my lover's spine. i am human and we have an uncanny knack for feeling with every star … Continue reading the universe is ever-expanding
a fun fact about bruises; the throb lasts about as long as the memory that accompanied the blow; and as far as battle-scars go, registering bluepurpleblack with vague surprise Feels like a posthumous victory Sounds like a retroactive yield & Looks like my own smile reflected back in a blade, diamond-sharp; a will that cuts. … Continue reading poetry dump, take one
Whisper sweet, gentle; speak as if you are autumn breeze & sea salt in waltz. Spew not vitriol (that black oil over virgin blue) reject the poison of sharp tongues & double-edged oaths. Though satin your voice, intent is fire: don't damp your manifesto.