Maybe we exist as language and when someone dies they are unworded. Bob Hicok (via sometimestuesday)
katherinehenson: Bright Dead Things, Ada Limón
marqotrobbie: Where are you? And im so sorry. I cannot sleep, i cannot dream tonight.
When our breasts arrived as a kind of currency, we’d tug our camisoles low, use our newfangled bodies to haggle with the ice cream man. The winner was the girl who received her chocolate cone for free, who sucked on candy cigarettes the same way she wore a training bra. That summer my pockets grew … More
[H]er body is getting away from her, it is no longer the straightforward expression of her individuality; it becomes foreign to her; and at the same time she becomes for others a thing: on the street men follow her with their eyes and comment on her anatomy. She would like to be invisible; it frightens … More
runawayjohanna: you are a horse running aloneand he tries to tame youcompares you to an impossible highwayto a burning house
beyvenchy: and countless others. i love Beyoncé with everything in my soul. i can’t believe how far she’s come like… when will ur fave tbh