50% Enchanted Read the Printed Word! Poems, Prose, and Song



You were a freight train collision, a suicide bomber, a highway car crash, silver glass shards gleaming in the moonlight, my breath was stolen at the fragility of the moment. As life spilled from your skin, you said you felt the heaviness in your veins and I looked at you, but all I could see was the indigo in your eyes like a pure night sky, like a dark bird, and I felt something lovely happening inside of me and I was afraid.

I tried to tell you my mind is messy.

Hot concrete and bare feet, I want to run run run tonight. This grey city is so full of the past and I will scream until my stubborn heart cracks open against the hard surface of defeat and all my little ghosts pour out. I cry. Oh, I’m not so pretty inside. 

You broken soul boy, you soft lips and rough mouth boy, you low tones in a sunset painting with the sky bursting in orange boy. I’ve missed someone like you all my life and I’ve gotten used to the feeling.

I tried to tell you.

But you were a great forest fire, you were terrifying and engulfing and full of life and full of decay and destruction. And you were so beautiful, I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

You can’t measure the mutual affection of two human beings by the number of words they exchange.

There are wings waiting
and skies left for our flying,
places left to see.

I’m a very ordinary human being; I just happen to like reading books.
Haruki Murakami, 1Q84


Fyodor Dostoyevsky, “White Nights”


Fyodor Dostoyevsky, “White Nights”

Cut off a wolf’s head and it still has the power to bite.
– Hayao Miyazaki

I am a very introverted person who enjoys spending time alone, but l do occasionally like to pop out of my bubble and meet other people. When l connect with people, l connect very deeply. I’m not very surface, l can’t cold talk. I always get straight to the core: l want to know what their biggest defeat is or such like.
Lykke Li (via nyu-tah)

(via daintyelephants)

Sometimes we want what we want even if we know it’s going to kill us.
Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch (via mirroir)

(via foundinpain)

We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over.
James Boswell

He drove his mind into the abyss where poetry is written.
George Orwell (via observando)


hello new boy with eye lashes
that reach for the stars and
a heartbeat that sounds like my
favourite song.

hello boy with feet itching
to travel the world and a taste
for the unknown.

I can feel your energy invading
my cells, I can feel your change
in my mind and your warmth on
my face like the sun.