People always say that it hurts at night
and apparently screaming into your pillow at 3am
is the romantic equivalent of being heartbroken.
it’s 9am on a tuesday morning
and you’re standing at the kitchen bench waiting for the toast to pop up And the smell of dusty sunlight and earl gray tea makes you miss him so much
you don’t know what to do with your hands.
— Rosie Scanlan, “On Missing Them” (via missinyouiskillingme)
did you hear about the italian chef who died?
he pasta way
he just ran out of thyme
here today, gone tomato
his wife is still upset, cheese still not over it
we never sausage a tragedy coming
ashes to ashes, crust to crust
there’s just not mushroom for italian chefs in today’s world