"I had a hairdresser who did both my and her hair, she was always trying to set me up on dates but was particular about this one girl C. One day I’m getting my hair cut and she dials C’s number and hands the phone to me. We talk and she asks me out over the weekend but I was busy so perhaps another time. Eventually we went out to a nice restaurant in Portland, then to see ice skaters at a rink. We sat so close to each other that our legs were brushing, but neither of us pulled away. Our next date was me riding the Seattle to Portland 200 mile bike ride, she was to meet me at the finish line. Every 20 miles or so I’d ask my buddies, think she’ll be there? 'Shut up D of course she will.' She was, and had set up a picnic lunch for us to enjoy by Roslyn Lake. We sat there enjoying the view, she told me she had been thinking of me all the past week and I told her the same. She asked what about, and I said “I’d like to transition to an exclusive relationship to explore the purpose of marriage.” She said yes, and bam! we went from dating to me having a girlfriend."
Sometimes, and only sometimes, she drips with melancholy.
Dreaming of a time when all that existed were two curled bodies, intertwined in thought and mind.
But more often than not she smiles with false teeth.
Interlaced fingers, a soft note of contentment, kisses, sweet nothings and bittersweet smiles.
Favorite bird genre has got to be 'that's literally just a dinosaur'
Groove-Billed Ani
Hoatzin
Pheasant Coucal
writingsforwinter:
Once, I died my hair to change colors with the seasons
and finally settled on red out of the mistaken belief
that it would lend me all the courage fire lends to wood.
Beneath the wave caps I thought I loved you the same way the sea loves
the coral that tattoos it to the ocean floor.
Now, I remember my legs, my phantom limb syndrome,
how I used to run so fast along the shore even the seagulls couldn’t catch me.
Those were the days when my head was still above water,
when I never once thought of shedding the scales on my wrists
and ending it all.
One day I’ll go back to those legs, to coming up out of the deep
and tasting the salty air again
without wishing to drown.
One day seaweed will stop reminding me of a noose.
One day I will love you with lungs full of fresh air.
There are still so many seashells on the shore left to collect,
and I’m finally going to find them all.
"There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm stoned. I'm poisoned. I long for your tongue to cross paths with mine- even if it means that you'll bite like the waiting asp you are and I'll die. But I'll die loving you.
You're so open about it. You openly sport your prey, your toys- when you're tired of them, they dissolve away into the background, and I've watched it. Women, they come and go- like a cycle of evaporation, they come, they dry- they leave. Women, you get rid of. But me...I'm different, because I am not one of them. I linger; I tell myself its because I am ice to you- I refuse to bend and show you how much it affects me, but I'm melting. Dripping. For you.
One day, I'm going to give in to you. This is my acceptance of defeat. I will never be able to resist you for much longer- but I wanted to have it stated, have it shouted, how much I bloody despise you despite the fact that you are all in the world that could ever make me happy. These words are my paper crane- a thousand of them, a thousand more never said and never written- and they are my deepest wishes. Come and claim me, whenever you are ready."
-siriuslyblackhearted
🙃 Regular reminder that while Hozier has amazing love songs, he is ALSO very outspoken about his leftist politics, specifically anti-fascism, anti-racism, reproductive rights, Palestinian rights and more.
Take Me To Church and Foreigner’s God are scathing critiques of organized religion, specifically the Catholic Church and the colonization of Ireland.
Moment’s Silence is about oral sex but it’s ALSO about how that specific sexual act is often distorted to a show of power rather than that of love.
Nina Cried Power is an homage to various (mostly Black) civil rights activists from the US and Ireland and a call to follow their path.
Be criticizes anti-migrant policies and Trump and his ilk.
Jackboot Jump is about the global wave of fascism and about protest and resistance.
Swan Upon Leda is about reproductive rights and the violent colonial oppression of Ireland and Palestine.
Eat Your Young is about the ruinous way the 1%/capitalism and arms dealers prioritize short-term profit over everything else to the detriment of the youth/99%
Butchered Tongue is about Irish and other indigenous languages being suppressed and erased by imperial powers.
If any of the above surprised you, please, please delve deeper into Hozier’s music, you’re missing such an important part of his work.
theyre talking about us again
one day you will wake up refreshed, drink coffee and be able to read a book the same way you did when you were little. you will have a cat who curls up to sleep on your lap or a playful dog who is happy to see you. you will be the kindest you can be, listening to stories, and checking up on people often. you will make pancakes in the morning and decorate your abode with plants, your old paintings and cozy cushions. you will fill photo albums with blurry photos of your new friends and road trips and summery evenings. you will visit your favorite bakery and library often, and keep in touch with people you love. things won’t be perfect, but you’ll be at peace with yourself and you will be in love with life again.