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Hello there

My name is Sifrah, i'm sixteen years old.



I love to make music, to read and to write.



Ask me anything you would like to know, and i'm a good listener so if you have something on your chest... don't hesitate :)


I’m sorry about the trap doors
and the sky I taped to the ceiling of that cabin.
Sorry about always promising false infinites
and always forgetting that the sun can’t be trained
not to rise so early.
When you search for a curse word,
and all you find is my name,
I won’t even be angry.
The fury doesn’t belong to me,
at least not now.
When your mother tells you about the ocean that
tried to drown itself in a shipwreck,
you will show her this poem.
You won’t know how to use your hands
for a while after that,
but she won’t say ‘I told you so.’
There has to be a place in the sky
that doesn’t know what storms taste like yet.
I wonder if it is hard to be blamed for the thunder
in other clouds.
I know that’s not what this was.
There’s no mistaking the rain here.
It was real, and it happened,
and it has made fallen branches of the best of us.
But there has to be an island that
doesn’t know disappearing yet.
I promise that’s where you are,
a poem waiting to be read
somewhere safe underneath the sand,
far away from hurricanes that have names that
sound anything like mine.
Y.Z, the buried treasure on eighth street (via rustyvoices)
your-death-in-my-hands:

F.Scott Fitzgerald on We Heart Ithttp://weheartit.com/entry/85759637/via/the_brain_xx
fancy-day:

t na We Heart It.