Best Wordvomit Quotes Ever

*gloomy*
posted a quote
September 6, 2014 2:41pm UTC

Some nights the clouds release more water than they should to drip down the sides of my umbrella. The rain that pushes up from the ground swirls around my heels and wets the hems of my jeans. I make a mental note get them cleaned later. I don’t want to be reminded of the streets I’m walking down at 4 am. The city never sleeps, and neither do I. Work will be rough but this night, it never happened. In the morning I will scrub it from my skin until it’s burning and irritated. And if someone in the office dare point out “You’ve got a bit of red on your hand there,” I will smile surreptitiously, thumb it away and say, “Just a scrape.”

👍 this is good · read the comments · 22 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
January 12, 2015 6:44pm UTC

Drabble #42 – Dragon
Close your eyes and I’ll give you this story:
Stick your hand into your chest and pull out your heart. See if it matches the color of your cheeks. There are two monsters in your gut, and one of them does not belong to you. Everything casts a shadow; remember this even though you told me in a dream you aren’t afraid of anything. We’ll cut into those who leave you jaded, you poor little thing. Recklessness is considered beautiful for a reason, so no, I will not hold back.
But you want a better story, don’t you? We all do.

👍 this is good · comment on this quote · 19 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
December 26, 2014 5:34pm UTC

~ There are times ~ where it appears you want to say something more, but you hold back. It alludes to this hidden part of you that I’ve never really known, a shadowy closet tucked back from sight, where you do not smile, do not laugh.

👍 this is good · comment on this quote · 16 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
June 26, 2014 1:17am UTC

I notice that your eyes shine as though they’re made of supernovas.
I then wonder if my subconscious made this metaphor intentionally, comparing them to dying stars.
You’re a dying star, collapsing and burning up in your own toxicity. The most beautiful people always do;
they’re breath-taking and illuminating, exploding with light and grace.
And then they die, they fade away with nothing left but a fingerprint in the sky,
hooked around another star like a promise. Like rebirth.
I’m wrapped up in simplicity and spun around a spool of chaste sincerity that you just begged to shatter,
loosening my ties so I’m stretched out on display, pulled taunt with the threat of tearing.
I never unraveled; you never attempted to unravel me.
Your comets tail never crossed paths with my hair-thin thread,
though I always thought you had the most interesting hands, always open to accept the world.
Like nebulae. Like new beginnings. Like life.
Word Vomit

👍 this is good · comment on this quote · 15 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
October 17, 2014 8:13pm UTC

Drabble #27 – The Work of Wasted Daylight
If these dots were stars, and not freckles, I’d spend my life mapping and studying them until they are all I see on the backs of my eyelids when I close my eyes. You swear that you love me more than space, and when I see you reflected back at me in gas and dust, hooked around the moon and eyes made of sunlight, I can’t help but think that the universe loves you more than I ever could. But, you are nothing more than a husk of skin and memories and simpler lines with a heart that never loved simply.

👍 this is good · comment on this quote · 15 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
January 29, 2015 9:42pm UTC

x
x
This city cracks the egg
Over a bright blue pan,
And bursts the yolk to bleed
Golden across your skies.
This city can love you good and kind
If you just give it your lips,
And let it kiss you full and well—
But do not wince when the love goes down
A little too hard; a little too warm.
This city sleeps with one eye open,
And you should too—
Count the hearts it breaks,
The suns that might not rise.
This city is an ode
To insurmountable invisible walls
That tough it through the winter,
But shake at the tremble in your hands.
This city cuts across the land
Like a scar the world is ashamed of—
Ripping open and pouring out
All of the asphalt in your heart.
This city is unforgiving.
It lashes out in rainbow tones
And bruise-purpled hands.
Again and again and again.

👍 this is good · read the comments · 19 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
July 13, 2015 6:33pm UTC

You’re sitting on that ugly plaid blanket your mother loaned you several winters ago, staring at the sky because we don’t have to time to appreciate it much anymore. I want to ask you questions, like why you say your father never lies, or how old you were when you started wearing glasses. I want to know everything. I want you to ask me questions, like why I don’t go back home on breaks, or where the scar on my cheekbone came from. I want you to know everything. There’s a confession or two cuffed in the space between us, like skipped rocks in the dead silent lake stretching from me to you, breaking and sinking into a dark place I’m tempted to venture.\
Your father’s dead, and you’ve always worn glasses that weren’t quite the right prescription. You like the slight blur, the vague fluff surrounding everything hard and straight-edged. I’m not sure there’s a home waiting for me anywhere, and when I was 10 a kid jammed a stick into my moving bike tire and sent me careening over the handle bars. I having stopped falling and crashing head-first since, but maybe you already knew that. Maybe you’d already read the silence between us. Maybe you were eons ahead of me this whole time.
I could sweep your hair behind your ear, and ask what you worried about as a kid, but that’s not important now, is it? I’m starting to understand why we don’t ask questions anymore, now that we have far bigger things to worry about than if the stars are going to be out that night or if we could eat our popsicles faster than they could melt down our fingers. I’ve got a torch to light the skies between us, been holding it this entire time, but when was the last time you needed my help to see in the dark? Maybe you never needed it, and maybe you just kept me around for the company, but I can’t bring myself to leave. Can’t bring myself to sit out here on this hill alone, watching distant torches light the sky and wondering about secrets I never knew.

👍 this is good · comment on this quote · 12 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
April 3, 2015 12:13pm UTC

"welcome to the monster plaza"
You cannot sleep tonight.
And as your mind, a blur, chases that imaginative, fickle mistress, a voice rings out,
Blessed be the Night! For we are but carcasses to the offering, and I am so thankful… Praise the light into which you were born! Kiss the soft curve of Night’s sweet promise. This is Night, and it is a good night.
If slumber is a gentle caress to the weary traveler, then this is a glimpse at death. And to share such a thing is to lovingly whisper, experience this sliver of eternity with me. I do not want to do it alone.
Give yourself to the slaughter, and it will give itself to you.
Pause, as though you are trying to find the meaning behind your words. Choke on the cadence in your throat.

👍 this is good · comment on this quote · 13 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
July 6, 2014 7:35pm UTC

So now, there are words written only for you in my notebook. They describe that lilting accent of yours that lingers in my own speech, long after you left for the final time. They capture the dreams you always whispered to me – the ones that always seemed further away than the stars twinkling overhead. The stars don’t shine in New York (we knew they were up there somewhere), but light pollution was never enough to stop yours from being seen, from being known. From being carried in the bags that set heavy under the curve of your eyes. Those dreams I never thought were attainable, were tangible, were capable through the hands of a doe-eyed teenager; bright and innocent; suddenly were there, right in front of us.
I had always thought you were more than most perceived, and I suppose I was kind of right. The light of young aspiration still burned bright across the horizon of your eyes and chased chaos through your bloodstream, but on the nights where you tucked yourself into a cigarette (I wondered what it felt like to choke on your own lungs, and if you were trying to smoke the exhaustion out of your body), I stole away in hopes of forgetting what your fingertips felt like stuttering across the piano of my spine. You always liked experimenting with instruments; seeing as how you could twist the notes to complement any lyric that filtered through your Hispanic laced dialogue.
So now, there are words written only for you in my notebook. I imagine you reading them to me, your voice curling and melting the pages; flattening them against the plane of your dreams. Something I was always a little too parallel, a little too fixed and spoken, to understand.

👍 this is good · comment on this quote · 12 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
July 8, 2014 3:09pm UTC

Your smile reminds me of a Christmas ornament, rarely seen and sometimes hidden but stunningly there when one takes the time to search for it. Your gestures remind me of railroad cars, an endless and always moving string whistling by, reaching to dip into the sunset and skim the horizon. Your gaze reminds me of a filthy dollar bill I found in July, fluttering across the hot cement, begging me to pick it up and dust it off. Your demeanor reminds me of ice. Ice doesn’t cry. Ice doesn’t shake. But it does, when it warms up to you, melt. Your voice reminds me of the time I tried to inhale some variation of lead (it has that busted and rusted sound, like you’ve spent too much time swallowing pennies) and ended up puking whatever pride I had left in me. Your fingers remind me too much of the days where I drew stick figures in the margins of my notebook out of extreme boredom before adding a tree and slowly hanging them all. Give someone a noose and they’ll be highly insulted, give them a pencil and paper and they might thank you (to me they might as well be the same thing).

👍 this is good · comment on this quote · 10 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
September 27, 2014 9:37am UTC

Drabble #22 – I'm closing my eyes now.
The radio plays softly. It’s on a station full of chatter and small talk, too many things to say for there to be room for music. Under the fluorescent light my skin looks yellow and thin, like the paper in old books. A bent fracture of light bores into my eye. It’s snowing, just because it’s that kind of day. A song request breaks the flowing conversation. There’s a repetitive dripping sound behind me, pattering in harmony with the piano. It’s a sad song, one that I used to really like. The person who requested it must be alone too.

👍 this is good · read the comments · 14 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
December 6, 2014 11:55am UTC

Drabble #35 – Flavors
Swallow the universe and you’ll be picking stars out of your teeth. Put the bottle down and leave the dregs of planets and speckled backwash for me. I’ll smoke those infinities from your lungs, if you let me. I swear I will, for all the gold encrusted and diamond studded promises I offer, this one comes laced in stardust. This dusty shelf holds a more cracked you. This rusty faucet knows the color of your teeth too well. This frozen mountain that we’re dancing on is a slippery slope indeed, but you’re so beautiful when nebulae are swirling in our drinks and painting the surface of your eyes.

👍 this is good · comment on this quote · 12 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
January 1, 2015 3:09pm UTC

Drabble #40 – Where the asphalt flowers grow.
You live in the cracks of rock on spray-painted concrete in Hong Kong. You live in the bikes and cars riding in the early morning rush hour of New York City. You live in the gold flecked domes on top of painted beauty in the churches of Moscow. You live in the purple tulips blooming in the shade of the Eiffel Tower. You are a fleeting whisper of something special in my 3am thoughts. You are here, and now. You are everywhere. You are the world, my world. That’s where you live. You are the cuts of inspiration I get in the spaces between seconds. You live in those spaces.

👍 this is good · read the comments · 13 points

*Yours Truly*
posted a quote
May 6, 2015 10:41pm UTC

The shadows aren't going to keep your secrets.

👍 this is good · comment on this quote · 11 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
January 4, 2015 2:48pm UTC

Drabble #43 – Fingers drumming down your skin (shaking up your heart)
Hey, your heart has its eyes closed. Should I make a ruckus? I bet you want someone on the straight path to success but I’ll be crooked. Tortured me poised, I’ll show you your crimes, I’ll mix you up. Push me hard into the sunset; you’ll only burn and I’ll glitter across the horizon. But why are you being distant? You’re a bit blue these days. Come, tie your shoelaces and run with me. How does it feel to live for yourself? The diamonds shaking across your skin, they’re free to shimmer through your hair and trace the patterns plotted on your skin.

👍 this is good · comment on this quote · 11 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
May 11, 2015 8:52pm UTC

For a while, the rain hitting my window
Sounded like gunshots.
I would sit back against my curtain,
And count the bullets.

👍 this is good · comment on this quote · 10 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
January 10, 2015 6:40pm UTC

The corner of the house slightly blocked the setting sun, making it look like an orange with a few sections missing. I tilted my head, and the orange disappeared. I tilted it back.

👍 this is good · comment on this quote · 11 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
November 30, 2014 3:03pm UTC

Drabble #31 – And it tastes like a Friday night.
There’s a novel at my fingertips waiting to be written, or read, or… something. It’s breathing icicles, which doesn’t really make sense, but there they are: cutting into the soft skin of my palms. My body is trying so hard to remember how to burn, how to be light in the animal of your touch. I want to be loud, but not too loud, just enough to be listened to. Your paper skin on my paper heart is enough paper for us to get lost in. Or write love stories for. This novel is writing itself, you see.

👍 this is good · comment on this quote · 11 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
February 19, 2015 7:17pm UTC

Reflections in Puddles
The moon is no longer out tonight,
So I’ll howl at you if I can.
You stole her from the sky.
My, oh my, you were a hungry man.
A whirlpool exists in your lungs,
But you’re past the beginning.
There are miles of water between us,
Time to start swimming.
Crunch down like smooth seas,
Listen to the water not make a sound.
That silence will consume you,
Silly man, you are drowned.
The moon is inside of you now,
And she’s got a bit of a bite.
“Shh, now,” She whispers,
“This is not conducive to the night.”

👍 this is good · read the comments · 18 points

*gloomy*
posted a quote
December 12, 2014 8:01pm UTC

Drabble #36 – What worlds she did not break.
Hearken this grove of secrets pulled by the tide, the shore grasps to keep. I’ve glimpsed the shadow of doubt across your face so here, take these words I couldn’t form so they decayed on my tongue and inlayed them gravestones, but we call them teeth. Here, listen to the ripple of my heart being pulled out to sea. Here, listen to the ocean; it will translate my soul better than I. Here, pluck these heartstrings, make a melody of my love and remember it. I coveted the shore and its inability to stop loving the tide, reminiscent of cold hands on my ribs. We swish salt water in our mouths to heal the cuts, don’t you see? It’s love, dissolved in a glass, magical, healing.

👍 this is good · read the comments · 12 points

Witty Profiles

Best Wordvomit Quotes Ever