i am stones where used to be cities
and if you breathe too closely to me
you can still smell burning, i am
a shell constructed from
music lyrics and poems and
i don’t let people in

but you,
you are the kind
who sees
galaxies in your coffee
where others just see
sugar and cream
and you’re the one who says
“go on, i’m listening” even when
i’ve already realized how boring the story is
that i’m telling
and you’re the one who makes sure i got home
safe and that i’m eating well and getting out of bed

i mean you must be
an archaeologist
because where others saw ruin
and black nights and
spite

you looked into my eyes
and whispered
“you’re so full
of life.”

"He always said I didn’t love him. I do. I feel like I’ve been breathing in liquid poison. My head is so fuzzy, dizzy, and throbbing. My heart feels like its going to crumble apart with each beat." /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)

every time you
tell your daughter
you yell at her
out of love
you teach her to confuse
anger with kindness
which seems like a good idea
till she grows up to
trust men who hurt her
cause they look so much
like you.
to fathers with daughtersrupi kaur (via rupikaur)

(via fight-0ff-yourdem0ns)



mylifex33:

Oh man i can’t

mylifex33:

Oh man i can’t

(via barbellbasics)


My problem is that I fall in love with words, rather than actions. I fall in love with ideas and thoughts, instead of reality. And it will be the death of me.
Unknown (via wank-r)

(via the-last-rep-counts)



…Years of love have been forgot
In the hatred of a minute.
Poe, Edgar Allan. “To M—.”  (via foreverrtired)

(via thegirlwhodidnothing)


dead-pendragon:

heterophilia:

Thinking youre attractive but having a lot of insecurities is like having a crush on yourself but not knowing if you like yourself back.

SOMEONE SAID IT

(via thegirlwhodidnothing)


We are all books because we have spines and stories to tell.
My coworker (because we work in a library)

(via thegirlwhodidnothing)


To see and feel one’s beloved naked for the first time is one of life’s pure, irreducible epiphanies. If there is a true religion in the universe, it must include that truth of contact or be forever hollow. To make love to the one true person who deserves that love is one of the few absolute rewards of being a human being, balancing all of the pain, loss, awkwardness, loneliness, idiocy, compromise, and clumsiness that go with the human condition. To make love to the right person makes up for a lot of mistakes.
Dan Simmons, The Rise of Endymion (via observando)