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I can't remember what time feels like,
Or how to form a genuine smile.
I've forgotten the sound of my heart hammering in my ears,
And the sensation of touch is a beautiful memory.
Gutted. Numb. Hollow. Lost.
 Aug 2015 Mitch Nihilist
Amanda
I ran out of vanilla beans & rock sugar.

The porcelain bowls were left with this peculiar mush of bitterness.
An odd sharpness shuddering down into my empty stomach.
My fingers slipped:
I added a pinch too much of regret
&
a tablespoon
of sadness.

One day, airy concoctions that taste like summer memories will flit in and out of the kitchen window.

It's okay, & maybe if I am lucky someone's knee will playfully bump against mine.
Flour on noses & cheeks.

One day.
Starting the cookbook series!
(I don't get the opportunity to cook often, but I plan to do so asap. The first thing I want to cook is creamy pumpkin + garlic bread.)
What do you like to cook?
x
Galileo once told that two bodies that fall at exactly the same time, regardless of whatever, land at identical times, too. That regardless of how heavy or light their loads are or how dim or bright their souls are, when they fall, they fall.

Together.

And stay grounded, together.

But he dared not to tell of how two souls could ignite but still fail to heave each other’s flames.

Of how two bodies fall at the very same time,

*but never for each other.
more over callherangela.tumblr.com
We are all dead
buried in this grave of life
Constantly gasping for air
searching for the light
secretly dreading the end of sorrow
where everything is right.
We are all dead
cremated by the beauty of this hideous fire
the one we ironically call life.
Poem Created by Medinah Aousunt
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