Just wrote this poem last night. You know that feeling when you fall asleep in the day and when you wake up, it’s already dark? Not sure why but it always makes me feel melancholy. Anyway, I hope you like it… it’s the first poem I have written in a really long time (hence the first line.) I’ve been so busy getting ready for the September launch of my new book Lullabies. Hopefully, there will be more new poems soon… A thousand kisses to you all! xo Lang 

Typewriter Series #847 by Tyler Knott Gregson
Text for Tired Eyes:
Have you ever wondered what you’d find if you tookyour two hands and placed them on my chest and with force,just enough force my love, pulled it apart and wide open?I should spare you the gore and the stains on your perfecthands and tell you instead what would be discovered beneath this skin and these creaking ribs that havefought so long to keep the heartbeat inside and the pace slow.Through the blood and bone and the broken breath of my battered body you will find so many things you never wouldhave looked for.I’ve no doubt in my mind that you will find the residueof our conversations and the fragments, the smallremains of a lifetime of skipped heartbeats. You will find the silhouette of shared kisses and sparklers in the late summer air.  The breath that used tohang above your lips in the cold of morning and the moonlightand the sound of shuffling feet dancing beneath it.Look, closer and ignore the red upon your fingertips.Look, and find the sound of laughter under the coversand the way your hair smells fresh from a shower.It’s there, and it’s covered with giant snowflakesthat seem to fall inside me in slow motionand the flash of the lightning that struck me but spared meand left me alive to hold you.Pull harder and reach and risk the scrapes on your knucklesfrom the jagged ribs that  threaten your advance.Reach and find the space and invisible thread that connectsthe center of your eyes to the center of minewhen we stare at each other. Find the words.I promise there will be words and the ink will cover thered on your palms and you will  never understand how manyfit inside me, how many can come tumbling out.A magician you will swear I must be and words will bethe scarf that just never seems to stop.  Pull and pulland get to the bottom of the words and findthe last word that has been at the bottom of the  pilesince I started collecting them all in my chest.Find the word and smile that smile that only youcan smile when you realize that word is, and was,and always will be You.  You. It’s there where it should be and it’s draped with the wayyour hand feels on my skin and the rattle of thunderagainst the walls, the raindrops on my skin. I will feel your hands, cold against the warmthinside me and you will feel the flapping of the birdsand butterflies, their wings stirring the dustthat collected in the time I spent waiting for you.Feel them fly past the broken ribs and across youropen palms and close your eyes as they create the breezethat will tickle your cheeks. Take your hands now,place them on my chest and find yourself readyand willing and more than completelyable to discover and set freeall that lives inside me.
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"The one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person."

Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters (via larmoyante)


I felt weird and awkward, like a lot of people do. I felt misunderstood. But it wasn’t like I had no friends. I had friends. I was aware of my situation. So I never felt too alone.

As much as everyone can find someone on the Internet now, we still feel lost. I still feel lost and very empty. It makes us feel more lost because nothing that I do is that different. Nothing is cool. We’re kind of alone in the universe. Like those Instagram notes I shared. We all feel these things, but nobody’s figured out how to solve them.”

-Childish Gambino


(via peterahns)

"Death is not an event in life: we do not live to experience death.
If we take eternity to mean not infinite temporal duration but timelessness, then eternal life belongs to those who live in the present. Our life has no end in just the way in which our visual field has no limits."

Ludwig Wittgenstein (via observando)