(Source: sheisglorious, via bonjourtoutes)
words from ma dukes.
poetry, architecture, art, black and white photography. my thoughts, psychobabble, inspiration and music. longboarding, beer, beautiful women, and icons.
That’s what I call hot
I was trying to feel some kind of good-bye. I mean I’ve left schools and places I didn’t even know I was leaving them. I hate that. I don’t care if it’s a sad good-bye or a bad good-bye, but when I leave a place I like to know I’m leaving it. If you don’t you feel even worse.
J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye (via larmoyante)
I will remember
your small room,
the feel of you,
the light in the window,
your records,
your books,
our morning coffee,
our noons, our nights,
our bodies spilled together, sleeping,
the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever.
Your leg, my leg,
your arm, my arm,
your smile and the warmth of you–
You, who made me laugh again.
Charles Bukowski, “Raw With Love” (via larmoyante)
(Source: oddjordann, via lazy--eyes)
(via devidsketchbook)
(via devidsketchbook)
1 month ago - 
7
7
(via devidsketchbook)
Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That’s relativity.
Albert Einstein (via larmoyante)
seven
how we slip through the street,
nearing the cataclysm that is the tangled feet,
that exit and slash,
twist and warp.
strobes hit our souls through the window of an eye,
so smooth that only the pitch sky
is penetrated and held
by pins of digital light.
then we slip further
to an incandescent stoop
clearly made for our time in this moment
to view
how the moths smell like neon,
and the leaves feel like you.
what you see is rather normal to be sure,
but lovely, can you be sure
that my abnormality isn’t the same thing
as my presence for which you yearn?
my anomalies are the sights i don’t hear,
and the feelings i don’t breathe,
when i’m not with you.
wrap yourself around me,
like the smoke that climbs your breasts
and dances with the hairs of your neck.
do it gently, or do it fiercely,
but really do it if you do.
1 month ago - 3
3 six (respiration)
nevermind. not we.
i’m left, i’m alone,
i’m right. listen to the sheets.
they sound soothing and nice.
i’m wrong. i should hit the street
and listen to the pounding of my feet
in that moment where i take another leap.
wrong again. i can’t literally hit the street.
i’m scared to,
and the caffeine and nicotine tell me i’ve gone too deep
i heard the city breathe in its sleep
a reality i touch but for me it’s hard to keep.
i can feel your little heart
and count the little beats.
i need to overcome sadness
or wallow in defeat.
what’s hidden neatly, but not so discretely
is the emptyness behind the eyes with which i see.
if i were to see thee,
then once more i could be me,
and have control of a moment that you would call fleeting.
1 month ago - 1
1 new shoes
I can make a new pair of shoes
look old in a day.
because walking a day in my shoes
would take anyone else a year.
these shoes make me self conscious
and disturbed by people’s actions.
they tire me out, cause me aches,
and often, for what seems to be
no reason at all,
i’ll roll my ankle.
most days my sweaty face
will slap the pavement,
and i’ll lay there laughing
at the view i have
of how new everyone else’s shoes are.
1 month ago - 3
3 Mad Li(ve)bs
They told us the story of our lives
would be like a Mad Lib,
and all we had to do was find
the right words to fit
the script,but we were juvenile jokers when
it came time to choose
our nouns and verbs.When I grow up, I want to be a cumrag,
and I promise to jizz my hardest,
until dicks provide me happiness.
Love will be my titties,
and I will fucking stop trying,
until the day I shit.If only we knew then
it would be the only application
we got,
we may have been more careful
with our selections.
