shakespeare in love SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE what a movie ahh
I can breathe when I’m with her, and this means more to me than happiness.– Nikolay Punin
ohgd asked: you and sam and so goddamn cute, i am so happy that y'all are so happy, i am so happy that you are so happy
being measureless thankful that you being you & it
being spring & we being we (no false-fumbling
intimacy under heavy sun) we’ve only kissed cold
so far so far but it being spring & you being here
next week—we will see seasons change from winter
to spring and safe to say we are safe & will stay
being measureless thankful! but also happy & frightened,
in a good way, the way that humans often pair happy &
frightened—funfair rides & casinos, some structure under,
being measureless thankful for structure stability for
no longer feeling a riotous mess with knots in her stomach
now age 17 & still oscillating high amplitudes but now you
being here being you & it being spring we are safe.
Anonymous asked: decent poets?
i just rediscovered this ily nicole
(lucy’s on hiatus right now which makes me want to cry)
Some things lock in competition, like an earthquake and a kiss. The earthquake, though eager to prove its claim, shows valiant restraint; the kiss? It knows the power of bitten tongues.– Anna Moschovakis
"this is why i have trust issues," she says plaintively, looking at the food on the table under the ‘free food’ sign—the stale, left-over cakes and burnt-crust edges of withered tarts.
there are under 30 days of school left this makes me so happy
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.– Robert Frost
one of my best friends deals with disappointment by overcompensating: diaphragm-taut laughs, hair flicking, hysteria. the other eats, sleeps, pretends to be pretending to be unhappy.
jealousy should be beautiful:
the word split from its meaning
brings to mind gold choker necklaces,
green-glass earrings that catch the light,
rumpled sheets on seldom-made beds
in rooms with no curtains,
a woman’s face tipped back with fearless eyes.
There’s something cold & heavy sitting on me somewhere, & until something budges it I am no good.– Philip Larkin
i’m very sad again for no reason i hate when this happens
Sometimes I think about them but it’s not
A wistful or nostalgic sort of thought:
Wondering if he has a girl, a string of them,
Surprised that jealousy is at bare minimum.
I’d rather he had hook-ups. Hook-ups tend
Not to make it onto Facebook. I pretend
That they don’t happen—as far as I’m concerned
He’s a memory from the past. A lesson learned.
But you, I’m still learning—and I hope to be
Learning you for as long as you’ll let me.