November 2011
35 posts
“Father, this thick air is murderous.
I would breathe water.”
– Sylvia Plath
“”
– i won’t blame you, instead i will remember the kisses our lips raw with love and how you gave me everything you had and how i offered you what was left of me, and i will remember your small room the feel of you the light in the window your records your books our morning coffee our noons our nights...
