if i had a nickel for every time i started a text post then deleted because it was sickeningly self-pitying

submitted a handful of pieces to Winter Tangerine Review today, the loveliest of all the literary magazines. you should too.

four or so hours left in their 24-hour mob-submissions event.

as I walk
up the stairs
on leaves, twigs and
fallen things

if I close my eyes the passing car
sounds like an airplane
landing

through sliding doors
through a hall I hear
people chatting, laughing
then quiet again

and my own feet recreate a rhythm
no song I’ve heard can claim

alwaysthegriieve:

I awoke with the heart ripe with poetry.

human life is equal parts miracle and dust.

beautiful. Every ounce. <3

@darlingterror

thank you abundantly. <3

has your heart been broken? if so, i am dearly sorry.

@Anonymous

my heart is growing up.

My dear, asking for an under thirty year old man to be wise is folly. Wisdom comes with age and anyone who claims to be wise at such a young age is a dangerous thing in itself. Your writing tugs at my heart strings. Keep going.

@Anonymous

wisdom sometimes comes with age. 

i see where you’re coming from. but it’s also a piece of fiction. and isn’t truly indicative of what i’m looking for or expecting in anyone.

thank you for reading. <3

you literally just described me perfectly. too bad you're far away

@Anonymous

oh distance isn’t a central issue that i’ve found. there are many other reasons i might not be with anyone near or far for a long time.

WANTED: Under thirty and profound. Amazed by sunflowers. Able to keep houseplants alive. Aware of, but not paralyzed by, the mystery and sometimes meaningless of life. Aware of, but not overly-convinced of, the miracle of humanness. Fond of the feeling of fingers grazing over one’s shoulders. Un-annoyed by the sound of fingers drumming wooden surfaces. Nostalgic of certain college courses but not really the college campus experience as a whole, if applicable. Not nostalgic of high school, but somewhat nostalgic of that sixteen-seventeen peak of youthful exuberance and angst. Kind. Willing to participate in hours of binge television show watching, at least once a month. Unafraid of being pursued by the FBI for streaming movies online. Natural sense of loyalty that’s slightly less than a dog’s but much more than a cat’s. Taste for all things mint-flavored. Almost eclectic. Maybe completely eclectic. Maybe even a little mundane. But absolutely must smile. Must laugh, even if it comes out as a muffled whisper. Laughter mustn’t groan, unless the joke entirely warrants it. Gentle. Mostly kind and gentle. Able to cope with long periods of silence and solitude. Not outrageously long, but substantial. Honest. Willing to step into a space of vulnerability. Even if skeptical, or afraid. Willing to try. But not too soon. Wise. But mostly kind. Kind and gentle. Hopeful. Firm. Doesn’t mind chipped nail polish, or chewed up nails. Or stray hairs. Or leg hair. Owns and shares warm sweaters. Interested in the prospect of children. Finds candlelight romantic. Creative. Goes to plays and such. But mostly — I mean really, most importantly — I mean knock the all of the other bits if these ones don’t apply — kind and gentle.