We watched them
bursting across the field
in their burgundy helmets,
their marble frames—their
girlfriends on the bleachers,
and their parents. Seventeen
do you miss it? They whipped
past, charged, dreadnoughts
carving through night. Do you
remember being such a god
with such bruised arms,
loving so savagely and pure?
Yes, he said, but I also remember
thinking this is it, this is it, there
are no greater heavens after this—
and there weren’t.
I think the most hopeless thing I’d ever done was bend into the driver’s seat where your body lay and whisper: “I can’t believe you thought the sky was falling down.” I swear I could still smell the sweat and the semen from minutes before, but maybe that was me just trying to keep you alive. The reality was that you were mostly blood and glass and a mangled face, and you weren’t coming back.
Outside Kyle sat on the curb with his face in his hands. His shirt was bloody from trying to hold you and he was saying, I guess to me: “He shouldn’t have gone he shouldn’t have gone he should have stayed he shouldn’t have gone what’s going to happen now.” I told him I guess we should have known. He gave me a very pink look and then looked over in your direction and said, “Car crashes were your thing, he wanted to be just like you.”
I shivered and slid out of the lamplight. I looked up at the sky and could see stars burning like blast furnaces. As I looked closer, really squinted, I could see them getting closer… closer…
I looked at Kyle very darkly and he half-recoiled. In the distance we heard sirens wailing.
Leon The Professional, 1994
310-315/a thousand pictures of Kristen Stewart
I was at a horse race yesterday when some kid lost his balloon…
Highlights of Mads Mikkelsen from the Hannibal panel at Paleyfest 10/18/14
I’m So Done With Your ShitSalvatore