kiramarch - Marsch
Marsch

and the tragedy of existence.

25 posts

This Is How Winter Feels Like To Me.

This is how winter feels like to me.

This Is How Winter Feels Like To Me.
This Is How Winter Feels Like To Me.

And Charles Bukowski poems.

Slowdive, cold wind, the day ends too quickly. Usual cigarette tastes different and I can’t comprehend any thought or feelings, it’s just constant void and unknown ache. I really do hate winter, yet I enjoy it’s silence. The numbness.

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    ggukkau liked this · 1 year ago
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More Posts from Kiramarch

2 years ago
That Is Your Friend?"

“That is — your friend?"

"Philtatos," Achilles replied, sharply. Most beloved.


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4 years ago

"Remembrance of Things lost"

"Remembrance Of Things Lost"
"Remembrance Of Things Lost"
"Remembrance Of Things Lost"

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1 year ago
text id:   I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.

― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath