NOW m-o-o-n-w-h-i-s-p-e-r

Apr 18

“That time
I thought I could not
go any closer to grief
without dying
I went closer,
and I did not die.” — "Heavy" by Mary Oliver (via m-o-o-n-w-h-i-s-p-e-r)

Apr 03

(Source: m-o-o-n-w-h-i-s-p-e-r)

(Source: m-o-o-n-w-h-i-s-p-e-r)

Mar 31


"I wonder how many times my neighbors have seen me naked through my windows because my blinds are open and my lights are on"- an autobiography

Mar 27


there are two kinds of people. People who call every dog they meet puppy and owners who correct them with the dogs age.

Mar 17

the rain does not distinguish -


there is something tragically simple and

devastatingly beautiful

in the way the sky opens up and drops its tears

onto the writhing river

waiting to be shushed to a dead calm by the rhythm of the

falling drops

i dont know why the raging water stills

like a crying baby rocked to sleep


Mar 16



today i let frustration get the best of me

as hot angry tears slipped down my face

the salty taste of ‘what if’ on my lips

and the red burning of ‘too late’ in my eyes

Mar 05

(Source: m-o-o-n-w-h-i-s-p-e-r)

Feb 18

17 yrs 364 days 23 hrs -


in one hour i will be a adult, and what have i learned?

ive learned that crying doesnt always feel good

and hugs arent always wanted

ive learned that loving someone for long enough

means forgetting what they look like

ive learned that when someone hurts you

not everyone remembers to not like…

Dec 17

broken sonata


every night

a silent symphony of sadness plays inside me

sometimes softly and drifting and heartbroken

sometimes pounding and earsplitting and rampant


trying to get out

and every now and then

when toxins seep through my veins

when eyelids surrender and drop like lead

a part escapes

an out of tune string section

or a harsh jumbled line

never flowing out the way it should

no sense

no audience

my concert hall is empty