Jack (of all trades).

ether hiatus. » 𝙣𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙜𝙞𝙖.

[Jack (of all trades). @HauntedPoem]

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

“Underneath all reason lies delirium and drift.”

[hannah @crankhart]

Replacing “I’m going to kill myself” in my vocabulary with “Oh dear”

[Jack (of all trades). @HauntedPoem]

Haunted poems never die.

I suppose it's an inconvenient convenience. It's the morning birds singing too early, too loudly, and always on the wrong days, but yet, still incessant reminders that life demands to be lived, to be sung about.

[Jack (of all trades). @HauntedPoem]

Constantly oscillating between pulling the trigger on life and burning the house down. Both reaping very different outcomes, I assure you—I assure me?

[ń . @____damned]

for me, it is so much easier to write than it is to do anything else. there isn’t a seduction i know deeper than the one that comes from finding the language that fits my tongue. it's my one pleasure that requires nothing from anyone else. requires nothing but honors everything .

[Jack (of all trades). @HauntedPoem]

When I’m expected to remember anything at all, ever—

[Jack (of all trades). @HauntedPoem]

@SanctifyThySin Better comatose than in a grave, eh?

[Jack (of all trades). @HauntedPoem]

“Well, I’ve changed. A pen through the eyeball will do that to a person.”

[Jack (of all trades). @HauntedPoem]

I could kill my darlings, but I can’t. Not without deluding doubt. Not without drowning in reason first.

[Jack (of all trades). @HauntedPoem]

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

“Underneath all reason lies delirium and drift.”

[Jack (of all trades). @HauntedPoem]

ripple across a poet’s lake, and tossing me back into my castle. I’ve traded the leather chair for an antique upholstered in gold silk.

I may sail the seas of these tales, but not without my anchor, a key strung on a gold chain, a lighthouse, harbors, and a tireless current. ↠