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Edited Version.

I gazed at black chalkboards,
fading into blank screens,
turning into rolling waves
that roar over the silence
I left brewing in my mind.

Settled on you, it creeps
through the blood
in my veins, gathering
my nerves into a swift
wave of stimulants that open
my eyes to the sun,
burning my chest.

You stood a tall 5’7”, but
in the sun you towered me
at an enormous 6’5”. Shielding me
from the brush of the sand. Feeling
the sweat dripping from your chin.

Countless times I’d have to
peel myself from your sticky
body as the beach towels sat up
against my back. Brushing
the sand from your hot, matted
post-deployment hair.

Endless hours spent soaking in
the July weather you were
supposed to leave in. Avoiding
the inevitable. At least we thought
we were. Of you leaving, of the
end, and the way you would fade
into the sand; becoming
scattered and fluid.

It was a circle or maybe
a cycle, that I couldn’t
make heads of tails of;
trying to piece together
every second of your life.


Sitting up, I peel
myself from what I thought
was your sweaty body.
It was not sweat, it was tears.
It was not sweat, it was blood.
It was not sand you shielded
me from, it was the shrapnel.

Four years spent dreaming
of you carrying me into
warm July waters, with
the scar of your survival.
Four years waking up
to the image of you kneeling
to the eruption bringing me back
to a cold February night that
only carried your lingering memory.

Settled on you, creeping up
the sun burns my chest, my mind
frantic as the blood boils
in my veins and my nerves cringe,
sinking my feet into deep into the
Afghanistan sand that held your remains.

I cannot see rolling waves.
I cannot see blank screens.
I cannot see black chalkboards.
There is only the silence,
until it is interrupted
by the explosion that detonates
at your knee and rings in my ears.

Tanya Stone “Daydreams”

peaceandnonsense:

tastefullyoffensive:

Bears Doing Human Things [via]

Previously: Before and After Pictures of Animals Growing Up

THIS IS MY FAVORITE POST

tastefullyoffensive:

Pup holder. [x]

tastefullyoffensive:

Pup holder. [x]

My eyes twitch up, just for a second, to see his face. Tobias, as blank-faced as the rest of them. Was I wrong? Is he not Divergent? Tears spark behind my eyes, and I blink them back as I turn away from him.

People crowd into the car around me, so we stand in four rows, shoulder-to-shoulder. And then something peculiar happens: fingers lace with mine, and a palm presses to my palm. Tobias, holding my hand.

My entire body is alive with energy. I squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back. He is awake. I was right.

motiveweight:

Sitting is the Smoking of the Current Generation…VIDEO

kxsxy:

1017andpregnant:

feels

Fuck my heart.

kxsxy:

1017andpregnant:

feels

Fuck my heart.

lock-bitt:

napkinbitch:

napkinbitch:

napkinbitch:



What have I done?



I repeat: WHAT

HAVE

I

DONE


I AM DONE WITH THIS WEBSITE

lock-bitt:

napkinbitch:

napkinbitch:

napkinbitch:

What have I done?

I repeat: WHAT

HAVE

I

DONE

I AM DONE WITH THIS WEBSITE

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