weekends come and weekends go
lonely girls just stay at home
and if there’s one thing they all know
some nights you just feel worthless.

you were alone
I saw you from that second story window
no sign of Jerome
he burned your would’ves
right down to the cinders

so why’d you go
the party’s full of friends
that you lost in the break up
did you think he’d show
& be impressed by a new dress
& your sister’s make-up

you were alone
canvassing to save your reputation
sobbing to Simone
about how he up & left no explanation

& how you drove
out to his place to pound the door
& wake the neighbors
til they yelled he ain’t home
now go & get some sleep
do us a favor

you were alone
hiding from the rain in the gazebo
shivered to the bone
& hoping for a taxi to retrieve you

well if you need a ride home
I’m on my way up to Orinda
& you can wear my coat

I missed him. Love, I realized, was something your spine memorized. There was nothing you could do about that.

— Lorrie Morre, Anagrams (via laura-loveless)

(Source: quote-book, via polyestertrash)

When she is angry she can forget
about you except when I remember
why I am angry it is because of
you. New York is over. I mean Versailles
is over. The bra hook buries itself
in our backs. The boys who won’t love me just
won’t love me. I sit on the subway hold
my hand. You are not the only one who
goes home and thinks about killing yourself.

— Angela Veronica Wong, excerpt from When Elsa Is Angry She Forgets About Stairs (via theoryoflostthings)

Foolish to think we can enact
change. All we can do is erect symbols
to stand in as we run away. I’ll flatten
my hair and where do my tears go. I
replaced you with another just like you.
And in the end you are who I wake up to.

— Angela Veronica Wong, excerpt from Elsa, It’s Too Tempting To Complain You (via grammatolatry)

frank o’hara

Last night in
bed I read.
You came to
my room and
said, “Isn’t
the world
terrible?” My
dear…” I
said. It could be
and has been
worse. So
beautiful and
things keep getting
in between. When
I was young I
hurt others. Now,
others have hurt
me.

— James Schuyler, from “Growing Dark” (via fromsappho)

littlebirdsings:

i emptied all my
sadness
into the tub
and fucking bathed in it.
my hair is greasy and
my eyes are dark
i am an
angry and empty
version of
who i was
before you 

I want to be

the one
you want in your
mind and your gut and
your bathroom.

But I don’t want you
to fuck the whole
world to find out.

I closed the box and put it in a closet. There is no real way to deal with everything we lose.

— Joan Didion’s, 2011 Lessons (via restfulmuses)

(Source: mythologyofblue, via kellyzen)