seasicklumberjack:

the great gatsby wasn’t a romance novel and beyonce and jay-z weren’t making music in the 20’s. that’s all i have to say.

I was driving, you were high
You know that I never let the world pass me by
Even for a second

Silly smiles from the passenger’s side
This is where we both divide, to each his own and I don’t mind

But crossing wires might make a spark;
Sparks make fires,
But when you’re in the dark;
These fires might light your way out

Just stay level with me, please
So we’ll be sharing mugs of bubble chai tea
Until the sun decides to sleep.

Haven’t posted any of my own stuff in a while, I apologize for this as much of my creative energy is being used in writing new songs for my band(s). It is also being swallowed by end of the year finals and exams.

AP Calc exam tomorrow
Wish me luck

Stay gucci,
-MM

for.all.the.words.in.the.world.: we don't know how to quit

maybeehales:

1.
there are lyrics in your lungs
you wish you had written
and they taste like her
even when she tells you
that she hates that band

2.
you explain carefully
that she was your first
of that sort of thing

but you remember to leave out the part
where you still catch yourself
rewriting rewriting…

nothing, nevermind

brightlightsloudnoises:

when i pick up
this bottle
of wine,
it’s you

and

when i find
a
paperback
tangled
in my sheets,
it’s you
and

all of this sounds really
serious
but it’s not

i swear it,

it’s the sombrero
on top of the
margarita salt,
it’s a cartoon rocket ship,

it’s nothing,
nevermind.

comakid:

i was the couch in a foreclosed home
that you dug your fingernails into.

the floorboards were coming up and
the exposed nails were teeth, eating
the dust illuminated by the burnt out
lightbulbs.

you were a lioness
and you were composed.

you were reading a magazine article
about some celebrity’s recent work
with charity.

i creaked and ached when you got up
and you opened the front door
and you collapsed in the grass
because you belonged in the sunlight

and there was too much work to be done.

whoartgos:

curse the fingers pulling at my seams,
tempting me to unspool skin from bone
flesh from words, ink from dying pens,
cast aside, now rolling on lopsided
hardwood floors

curse the gentle hand of spring
prying at lids, moaning still mourning
the rise of the sun and the red
in thermometers

men fail as often as their instruments

ninihoho:

ninihoho:

why did the blond fail her calculus test

she had a biology test on the same day and being that she is a bio major she felt it would be to her interest to put more emphasis on the bio test because she is only taking calc as an advanced elective credit which would not effect her major gpa

(via timetravelingclarinetist)