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amare-habeo:

Maurice UTRILLO (1883-1955)

Rue Norvins a Montmartre, (1938)

I know this will mess things up tonight
But god it feels so good to close my eyes
I’ll say that I’ve been trying to move on
We both know I’m not

It may be different now but the pattern won’t wash out
Covers up our eyes, leaves us knots and severed ties
We follow new lines

I would trade this sleep for you in a heartbeat
But this weather will not lift
It leaves us shouting into cliffs without an echo
Each day you come closer
So close I can almost feel your breath on my shoulders 
But I know if I turn around you might run away again
Stuck like those prehistoric mammoths in the ice
Thaw me out and I won’t close my eyes
Stuck like those prehistoric mammals in the ice
Thaw me out and I won’t go to sleep tonight

“It takes more than pressure

To change rock to diamond

Now all you have is sand

Slipping through your fingers”

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Real isn’t how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.’

‘Does it hurt?’ asked the Rabbit.

‘Sometimes,’ said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. ‘When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.’

‘Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,’ he asked, ‘or bit by bit?’

‘It doesn’t happen all at once,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.

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(Source: quandaryconundrum)