There are very few friends that will lie down with you on empty streets in the middle of the night, without a word. No questions, no asking why, just quietly lay there with you, observing the stars, until you're ready to get back up on your feet again and walk the last bit home, softly holding your hand as a quiet way of saying “I'm here”.
It was a beautiful night.
Tag: friendship love youth stars free night quiet prose thoughts alive empty-streets
Today may be your last chance to be you, someone you forgot to completely immerse yourself in because you were too worried about the details. The details that, no matter how many times you thought them through, brought you no closer to understanding. They just tied up your mind and prevented you from really letting in the things you love. Your demon that is standing before the beautiful floodgate and is keeping you in a dehydrated nothingness.
Give him permission to walk away. He is not your keeper. You are his.
Tag: life advice beauty prose letting-go
But I was young
and didn’t know better
and someone should have told me to capture every second
every kiss
Tag: love poetry time kiss youth moving-on alone sad prose heartbreak young-love love-story the-great-perhaps charlotte-eriksson the-glass-child empty-roads-broken-bottles in-search-for-the-great-perhaps
It could be yesterday
when I was less in love
I think
For I didn’t see you in the mirror
behind me
while getting dressed.
The way your hands couldn’t stay away
and our bodies always found their ways back to each other
as if they were meant to be together
Close.
But then it was today and I saw you
again
in the mirror
behind me while getting dressed
So I go to sleep tonight
alone
without actually falling asleep because I’m scared of the moment I will wake up
and realise it was just a dream
You’re actually gone.
Now all I can do is get through to another tomorrow
hoping that I will be less in love
again
Like yesterday
But not today.
I was never really well with things at all.
Tag: past love poetry youth moving-on alone sad memories prose tomorrow heartbreak young mirror yesterday left charlotte-eriksson the-glass-child
I can't allow what we learned in English composition to disrupt the sound and rhythm of the narrative.
Elmore LeonardTag: writing rules prose english narrative ignoring-the-rules
I’m a man of music as much as I am a man of words and prose. One could even possibly say that they, music and prose, are connected to a lengthy and mutually beneficial extent and that they have been of centuries or millenniums.
Nicholas TrandahlDon't use a five-dollar word when a fifty-cent word will do.
Mark TwainTag: prose vocabulary
The Grim Reaper isn't grim at all; he's a life-saver. He isn't grim because he isn't anything. . . . he is nothing. And nothing is a hell of a lot better than anything. So long, boys.
Jack KerouacTag: autobiography beat memoir prose short-stories prose-poetry jack-kerouac atop-an-underwood
I wouldn't give ten gallons of my own piss for clear sentence that gives the sense of a tree as a tree, when I revel in the nonsense of its being my own Grandfather, a letter from yesterday, or a masturbating fist.
David Joseph CribbinTag: sense prose commonsense
In a tired time, with the light outside drifting away for another day and the lights inside flickering as they come to life, I cup my hands together and prepare to give thanks ... to the life of a day given to me. A day shared with past and present, living and dying, of body and not, and a realization that in everything that is, there is something that was.
R.J. HellerTag: life past future present poetry nature time grace prose holding
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