richardsikendaily:

If the window is on your right, you are in your own bed. If the window
      is over your heart, and it is painted shut, then we are breathing
river water.

whoartgos:

the sun steals
glances
between
my blinds like
shuttered ribs

conceal a beating
mass of skin
and cartilage

where have all
the empty caskets
gone?

enough rum to fill
an ocean, more tears
than the day is worth

distant drums still
ring like an ex-lovers
song