I feel like a perv for thinking this poem is talking about very, very nice sex. Or just a chick who likes watching her guy - or girl - sleep. Which is creepy. In my opinion.

( Read more... )

[growls softly] I can't fucking focus.

I don't remember, any more,
The exact shape of your hands
As I held them in mine,
Caressed them,
Memorized the length of your fingers,
The depth of your calluses.

( ... )

[sitting under a tree, reading quietly]

and forteset_liber found here

You promised to let me read.

((oc: here, there, anywhere. /goes back to procrastinating

[reading book, bumps into you.] Oof!

[reading a book, bumps into you.]

I'm looking for this book.

I googled strange books and this is what I got. Its called Codes of Seraphinianus, and it sounds really cool. I can't find a place that will have it.
It can't cost that much since its such a weirdo book.

My day?

I finished a rough draft for a paper about utter bullshit. The people in my poetry class are fucking retards and perverts. I will never look at my Emily Dickinson poem the same, thank you fucking Freud ( Read more... )