adri ☆

“There are times, late at night, when your son would wake believing a bullet is lodged inside him. He’d feel it floating on the right side of his chest, just between the ribs. The bullet was always here, the boy thinks, older even than himself—and his bones, tendons, and veins had merely wrapped around the metal shard, sealing it inside him. It wasn’t me, the boy thinks, who was inside my mother’s womb, but this bullet, this seed I bloomed around. Even now, as the cold creeps in around him, he feels it poking out from his chest, slightly tenting his sweater. He feels for the protrusion but, as usual, finds nothing. It’s receded, he thinks. It wants to stay inside me. It is nothing without me. Because a bullet without a body is a song without ears.”
― Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

“Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway.”
― Edgar Allan Poe, Collected Poems

“Every morning the same big
and little words all spelling out desire, all spelling out
You will be alone always and then you will die.”
― Richard Siken, Crush

“Your name like
a song I sing to myself, your name like a box
where I keep my love, your name like a boat in the
sea of love—O now we're in the sea of love!”
― Richard Siken, Crush