you don’t have the strength

or the will

to fly up to the window

but you just have to remember

that it’s there.

remember the sky. 

the clouds.

the sun.

the stars.

this

isn’t all there is.

your four walls,

your shallow breath,

your fear.

repeat after me:

i am not trapped.

i

am

not

trapped.

day is my night

i need to feel your

ribs against mine

again

and sometimes you just need someone to

tell it like it is;

the flowers won’t bloom if you

don’t let them take root

99lions:

Egor Kraft - Recreation in Nederlands

This project is created by enthusiasts with purpose to broadcast artistic and social statements, thoughts and texts.

99lions:

Ingrid Endel - Poetic Portraits

Endel’s powerfully poignant images exhibit a beautiful blend of darkness and light, reflecting the photographer’s own situation.

Ingrid had to give up something she loved in order to discover a new source of joy.

99lions:

Ryan Everson - Fear Expanded

In this piece, the idea of fear seems to vanish into a soothing and peaceful landscape. 

To explore the emotional state of being afraid, Everson used wood and mirrors to build the actual word as a dominating force with which to be reckoned.

the small voice inside

says

you could’ve just been satisfied

but i know

i couldn’t;

memory

youaresucha

kind editor

kinder than i could

ever be

to myself

to this situation

even

to him

…

sometimes

i am afraid i made a big mistake

because it’s been over a year and

i left my punk rock fairy tale

for a piece of driftwood

and a promise

my skin is peeling

i’m wearing a dress and

heels for the first time

in a long time 

realizing the irony of

faux-officiating a wedding ceremony

on what would’ve been our

lucky 7 years

we never got to see the neon lights

and it creeps in under my eyelids

when i try to sleep

when the big band music is

too far away

and i don’t want to write letters

and you, 

damn

you

when your desperation cools

to shadows and sheets

and bodies not touching

like they used to.

i

realize

this

hollow fixations in my brain

for a girl who is nearly legally blind

hindsight seems even clearer

je ne regrette rien

i have scrawled over the

hole in my chest but

damned-if-i-do-damned-if-i

remember so i

i try not to remember

what i did -

i try to tell myself 

like i tell everyone else

it had to happen

i had to grow

we couldn’t

teach each other anything else

but have i grown?

am i really brave?

maybe i just

wasn’t listening -

did i?

do i ever?

how can my life

fall short for

wanting more?

i’m tired of 

being alone without

being alone but

when i come to think of it i

need to know

what being alone

is like.

i keep it at bay because

i miss the neon lights

i like falling in love

i like the din of 

head-over-heels

drowning out my worries

i always wanted

some place to lay my head

but now i’m just

a bird with one

broken wing

flying zigzaggy in

sick circles

wondering when i’ll

remember how to

fly so i

can remember how to

land -

universe i

need to hold your hand

because

i just needsomeone

i just needsomething

please don’t makemefeelguilty

because i

just

do

…

dressed up for the shipwreck

crystallized, i guess

i need to have things

taken away from me;

warning myself

would be pointless -

these are the risks

i write about

this is the 

poem i would swap with

the letter i should’ve sent myself

“be careful” is too vague

i never listen

anyway

comes a time when your fingers

are numb to touch or lack of touch

and the lit ends of your candle

are not giving off heat but just

smoke 

your beloved ennui

your dizzying pace

they resolve

to nothing

so

suddenly

it’s jarring enough to

pluck you straight out

of your world

like god had some

involuntary knee-jerk

or head twitch

that made you

unreal

again

but only halfway

and you are stuck

insect in the amber

spindly legs and

unfinished sentences

grazing the air but

never able to give in

to either fate;

stay dead or

break open, 

neither seems

like a solution when you’re

watching the world explode

behind you 

in a mirror reflection

but you can’t seem to 

focus on anything except

that smudge on the glass

i’m afraid i made a big mistake

Linda Pastan, Carnival Evening: New and Selected Poems, 1968-1998  (via commanderspock)

wow

(via booklover)

definitelydope:

By Kåre Gade

nachostrahovski:

Suicide Forest in Japan. [link]

(via atomiclanterns)

my L-O-V-E

(via fuckyeahmercury)

(via misssugarjunkie)