"I walked home,
Chanted the first lines of this poem,
And committed them to memory.
And if a few strangers thought me crazy
For writing poetry, aloud, in public,
Like another homeless schizophrenic,
Then fuck them for wanting clarity
And fuck them for fearing mystery."
Chanted the first lines of this poem,
And committed them to memory.
And if a few strangers thought me crazy
For writing poetry, aloud, in public,
Like another homeless schizophrenic,
Then fuck them for wanting clarity
And fuck them for fearing mystery."
– Sherman Alexie, from “Mystery Train” (via weissewiese)
I could hear the difference in my heartbeat… but I still walked your way. For myself, for me, for I… It’s time to let this die. Goodnight
your voice…. you sexy
