mezza☾una (dot) me

my biggest fear is
actually realizing what
my biggest fear is

—  seanhaiku

the rain 
has left itself in tiny pieces
everywhere;
on leaves
and blades of grass,
on the edges of petals
along this forgotten path,
and i’m careful
not to crush them
as i move deeper
into the woods.

— thedustdancestoo

once,
when i was young,
an old man told me
the moon was made of moths.
that’s why it rises, he said,
and falls,
and why
sometimes pieces disappear,
flying off
to pollinate the stars.

— thedustdancestoo

i want
the saddest songs,
the loneliest girls,
the smallest victories,

i want half empty glasses

because that’s
where
they build
the strangest
colors

—builtforlowlight

(Source: brightlightsloudnoises)

the question isn’t
what is poetry.

the question is
what isn’t poetry. 

if we only knew
the answer to that
then perhaps
we might know
a little bit more
about
the universe.

—cafeofthedamned

there’s always a starting point.
everything has one, even a day.
a moment
when the sun seperates
from the earth,
and returns to the stars.
there’s always a beginning,
a first breath,
a blossom,
a scream,
a look,
a touch,
a kiss.
a spark,
a point of orgin.
but what happens
when the sun decends
beneath the waves?
what happens
when we taste our last breath?
there’s always a beginning,
everything has one, even the end.

—thedustdancestoo

if only
i could wake up
dreaming.

—thedustdancestoo