verdad.

I see a lot. Here's what catches my attention. instagram contact: kate_starr

Aiming for the brim. 

i suppose we only become satisfied when we are old.

perhaps because there is a point of becoming filled.

that no longer measures what we are doing, 

but that we are doing. 

when i want something,

i get it.

a food craving.

an achievement. 

i am unsatisfied.

perhaps hell isn’t a place it’s 

unfulfillment.

There is no cure for that.

except to think long and hard

about what you want, and need, 

and get it. 

i suppose we only become satisfied when we are old.

perhaps because there is a point of becoming filled.

that no longer measures what we are doing, 

but that we are doing. 

While we are young

in search of the brim,

there is no cure for it. 

The Horse 

When the sun sets low
And flames burn behind the palm trees
I hear knees breaking
And the sound of a horse dying
Calling a last time to the masters he carried.
The highways are busy
And the city’s too loud
to hear the buckle of life.
There are times when unconditional love leaves us
And we don’t always hear it go.
When the sun sets low
And flames burn behind the palm trees
The stares of stone statues judge the frantic
They know that there are times when unconditional love leaves us.
We won’t hear it go.
Because the highways are busy
And the city’s too loud
To hear the crack of knees and
The heart as big as two fists
Fall, crying to the masters it carried.
When the sun sets low
And flames burn behind the palm trees.

(Source: stories.com)

(Source: lazyoaf)

Therapy. 

The only cure i have come up with is hot pavement and bare feet.

This is not to say the cure is readily available.

Around spring is when you and I have the greatest chance at surviving by these means.

The moment enough heat strips the sweaters off our backs, 

and makes the cotton shirts cling to our shoulder blades with the glue of sweat.

I know that the time has come to make myself feel better.

I place my hands or my feet on the hot pavement 

and i hold them there.

There is a clinical embrace that hypothetically happens at this moment, 

that hugs and hugs and hugs.

Until I can breathe.

This therapy only lasts as long as the quiet, 

and as long as the warmth in the cement.

In fall and winter we have a slim chance of getting by, 

so usually we suffer.

And there is not enough hot pavement to help.

The risk of skin cancer and third degree burns won’t even cross your mind. 

Trust me, I am a doctor.