that sentimental tune.

(Source: kay-ex33)

tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #412 by Tyler Knott Gregson

Text for Tired Eyes:

What if I was more and by more I mean more in all ways for all
things and by I, I mean this shell of a man’s skin and bones
that’s packed full with memories and dreams, heartbeats,
wishes and words? So many words and by words I mean all of the
whispers and longings and letters tied to letters hooked to
sentences that anchor themselves to my tongue and threaten
to leap the moment I open my mouth but find themselves lost in
the darkness when I close it again, and by again I mean always
and so the words must absorb themselves back into my tongue
and follow the dirt roads of my veins and climb the long
ladder of my spine back to my mind to rest awhile. Rest until
they can come out of my fingertips and say all I could not
when my mouth slammed shut and was silenced by my shaking and
by shaking I mean the trembling that comes without warning
and starts in my chest and pulls tight my arms across my body and
curls my fingers upon themselves and pulls the curtains down
over my eyes and by eyes I mean the little green planets living
on my face that might just be more than 70% water and seem to
be fond of sharing that water with my cheeks and lips the
collars of my shirts and the tiny part of my throat that feels
hollow.
And by hollow I mean not empty but filled with nothing because
you and I both know that nothing is absolutely something
especially with it’s the silent shared string that ties two
lives together and by together I mean intertwined and wrapped
around each other like a rope, where when you hold it you
forget it’s made of tiny threads and you think of it as one,
just one.
What if I was more for you, what if by more I meant everything
and by everything I mean the things you’ve dreamed of and by
dreams I mean the things that live so deep inside your hope
that not even the waking parts of you that control where your
feet carry you or how your hands fidget when they carry nerves
instead of calm underneath the lines on your palm see and by palm
I mean the place my hand will fit or the surface you will use
if ever I need to be slapped or the source of the force of the
push you’ll give when it’s a push forward I need and by need,
my goodness by need I mean the absolute and certified requirement, the
unwavering and nonnegotiable and no ifs ands or buts about it
place you must occupy in my life no matter what the tides drag
in or what the sea pulls back out and no matter how much water
my little green planets of eyes spill or how tightly my arms
squeeze and fingers curl and trembling crawls across the
surface of my skin.  No matter how fidgety your hands get or
lost your breath may be because I might not have the maps and I
might have lost the compass but we’re never going to stop
traveling and we’ll be lost and stay lost and live lost as
long as it’s together we’ll be. 
What if I was more, and by more, I mean enough?

(Source: butthorn)

(Source: likeafieldmouse)

(Source: cristinabondor)

isolohr:

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(Source: interiorizando-ando)

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