Azra Tabassum's Blog, page 71
December 10, 2015
"How do you fuck the sky backwards? That makes absolutely zero sense. Like just because something sounds poetic doesn't make it poetic." This anon is kinda right you know
I’m assuming that since you managed to read the ask, you also managed to read my answer? If not you should go and do that and then follow a current affairs blog.
"This is the cartography of half-eaten plums in the dark;
how we shipwreck our hands into each..."
December 8, 2015
"She said she meant
that friends are like magic tricks
but love is genuinely pulling someone in half."
that friends are like magic tricks
but love is genuinely pulling someone in half.”
- Catie Rosemurgy, “Doctor: Miss Peach Is a Doll inside a Doll inside a Doll,”The Stranger Manual
(via lifeinpoetry)
December 5, 2015
How do you fuck the sky backwards? That makes absolutely zero sense. Like just because something sounds poetic doesn't make it poetic.
I really don’t care. If it sounds good in my mouth then it’s poetry.
December 4, 2015
"I.
When you’re not here I try to fuck
the sky backwards: with my mouth.
I want everything to call me..."
I.
When you’re not here I try to fuck
the sky backwards: with my mouth.
I want everything to call me night.
II.
Last night I cut you out
to hear you siren. Wanted the dishes
to turn into broken.
III.
If you weren’t so blue, I said, I’d hollow
your worries out.
IV.
The bath rages like a coward.
If you were here I’d wash your laundry
in my sink, I’d tell you to go home and then
to not go home.
- Kallie Falandays “If Morning Never Comes”
December 3, 2015
5000letters:
In this story there is a bird living inside of my ribcage. It has eaten my heart and...
In this story there is a bird living inside of my ribcage. It has eaten my heart and occasionally throws up the chunks. I can feel the old remnants of it beating against my bones, like an old far away song. She flaps her wings and tries to fly upwards from my throat so I swallow her down and tighten my spinal cord to keep her there. She sings her desperate lullaby against my throat and at night I hear the faint loneliness of it. When I open my mouth, I speak in music. When I close my mouth, she throws herself against my ribs pulsing out her own keening rhythm.
December 2, 2015
I miss you the way a dry drunk misses his alcohol. It's unbearable.
I don’t know how to respond to this. I don’t know who you are.
December 1, 2015
"His unknowing
is where I want
to crawl
right into
the heart of him
and stay there,..."
is where I want
to crawl
right into
the heart of him
and stay there,
fingers-locked,
mouths breathing
the same
soft air, pink skin
and tired eyes
and beyond love,
above love,
again and again
and again.”
- Azra.T., “Tuesday”
November 30, 2015
"I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that..."
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.”
- Margaret Atwood, “Variation of the Word Sleep” (via poetrist)
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