first 20 to reblog, likes don’t count. (can go over)

we-are-all-secretly-dead:

Must be following mehttp://we-are-all-secretly-dead.tumblr.com/

I will check before I promote

I will give 5 solos and 10 in a list to 44k!

good luck!

i wore red lipstick to the grocery store last Monday
to buy a carton off eggs and so when the cashier told
me that my eyes reminded him of the ocean, i asked
if he’s ever drowned in his own sadness, he said my
total was $1.89 and that he didn’t know what i meant,
i payed in quarters and told him i was an Art major,
i told him my boyfriend was a musician and we were
saving up for an apartment in the city and how i’d
use the walls as canvases and how he’d play his
piano on Sunday mornings when the rain tasted like
salt, and i told him that i had my first art opening in
three weeks and he should stop by and i’d introduce
him to this friend i had named Lolita who was really
good in bed, he thought i was insane and i wonder
if he knew how many times i’ve cried in the shower
with my make up smeared and my eyes swollen shut,
he said “yeah, yeah, sounds good, have a nice day”
and i wonder if he’ll ever know i wanted to really be
a poet and that’s why when some man in the parking
lot asked if i had a lighter, i dropped my eggs while
stumbling to find one, and cried on the way home confessions from my alcoholic mother (via oprosti)

(Source: irynka, via undeniablyelly)

My mother tells me
that when I meet someone I like,
I have to ask them three questions:

1. what are you afraid of?
2. do you like dogs?
3. what do you do when it rains?

of those three, she says the first one is the most important.
“They gotta be scared of something, baby. Everybody is. If they aren’t afraid of anything, then they don’t believe in anything, either.”

I met you on a Sunday, right
after church.
one look and my heart fell into
my stomach like a trap door.

on our second date,
I asked you what you were afraid of.
“spiders, mostly. being alone. little children, like, the ones who just learned how to push a kid over on the playground. oh and space. holy shit, space.”
I asked you if you liked dogs.
“I have three.”
I asked you what you do when it rains.
“sleep, mostly. sometimes I sit at the window and watch the rain droplets race. I make a shelter out of plastic in my backyard for all the stray animals; leave them food and a place to sleep.”

he smiled like he knew.
like his mom told him the same
thing.
“how about you?”

me?
I’m scared of everything.
of the hole in the o-zone layer,
of the lady next door who never
smiles at her dog,
and especially of all the secrets
the government must be breaking
it’s back trying to keep from us.
I love dogs so much, you have no idea.
I sleep when it rains.
I want to tell everyone I love them.
I want to find every stray animal and bring them home.
I want to wake up in your hair
and make you shitty coffee
and kiss your neck
and draw silly stick figures of us.
I never want to ask anyone else
these questions
ever again.

three questions - Caitlyn Siehl  (via kiddings)

(Source: alonesomes, via lonelyrebellion)