Rebelle Society

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Tombs. {poetry}

Tie my acres of veins around the globe Marking our compass path of the future The roads of the path like rough guitar strings, leading the way out into the pulsing planet

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The Wild Solitude Of Self.

These are the ones whose ribcage is a tangle of blackberry vines and whose spine is a bottomless mountain ravine, rushing clear water, icy as snowmelt. The ones with rubies in their teeth and turquoise in their chests, with fingertips that grow into dandelions, and eyelashes into blue jay wings.

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you & me

A Sweet List Of Things To Remember.

We can sail through our days forgetting about wonder, for our lives are filled with endless lists and programs and responsibilities and commitments. Yet sometimes, small occurrences of unparalleled perfection wrap their wings around us while hinting once again at the wildly delicious  ...

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