hungover slam poetry
This life is gonna hit you hard, in the face. Wait for you to get back up just so it can kick you in the stomach. But getting the wind knocked out of you, is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.
“
| — | “B” -Sarah Kay (via roxyfoxy1188) |
I think too much when I kiss.
If love did not exist,
I would be so god damn sane.
My poems would be billboards,
suburbia would be enough.
I would not have to gut myself to find my spine crushed in a powder and brushed on her cheekbones…
If love did not exist,
I would be so god damn sane.
My poems would be billboards,
suburbia would be enough.
I would not have to gut myself to find my spine crushed in a powder and brushed on her cheekbones…
“
| — | Andrea Gibson (via srlsrl) |
You can only fit so many words in a postcard.
Only so many in a phone call
Only so many into space
Before you forget that words are sometimes used
For things other than filling emptiness.
Only so many in a phone call
Only so many into space
Before you forget that words are sometimes used
For things other than filling emptiness.
“
| — |
“Postcards” Sarah Kay (via furigs) |
“When The Bough Breaks” by Andrea Gibson.
The beginning of this poem is one of my favorites. Ever.
goosebumps
