“Here I am, a bundle of past recollections and future dreams, knotted up in a reasonably attractive bundle of flesh. I remember what this flesh had gone through; I dream of what it may go through. I record here the actions of optical nerves, of taste buds, of sensory perception. And, I think: I am but one more drop in the great sea of matter, defined, with the ability to realize my existence.”SYLVIAPLATH
(Source: forages, via teaandcakeordeath)
“Do you remember the beginnings of your consciousness? You live in limbo of a series of chords. Your pupils shrink the echo leaves”
There are things you’d rather forget, buried
deep, sometimes in the very middle, of what you
whisper to your lover before you fall asleep.
goose-bumped arms
toes curls
open mouthed
you’d laugh if it was funny, but
the ring, the echo leaves
(Source: still-ness, via teaandcakeordeath)
The heart of another is a dark forest always no matter how close it has been to one’s own
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