just tell me: was any of it real? was it real when we were both sitting in the back of the car and you inched your hand over to cover mine in the dark and we laced fingers and didn’t talk and just sat there in the streetlights listening to soft rock, was it real three months later when you kissed me and trembled hard and held my face in your palms and looked into my eyes and said, “i’ve waited to do that for way too long”
when did it stop? was it slowly or just all at once? later when we’d be talking about our secrets, did you wish i’d just shut up? when did kissing me start to mean that you’d have to get drunk? was it during one of the nights i broke down hard or was it just that one day my body didn’t quite do it for you anymore?
did it hurt. did you try to get it back. was there ever a point that you wanted me again but knew that it was gonna be different, was it the difference that scared you? was it me? did you just watch our forever become nothing? did you look down at your hands and realize they ached for another horizon, another moon, another person’s road to skim along the guardrails of. did you wait to tell me because you didn’t want the tears or because the tears were going to be too much effort to pretend to care about. did you chase our love when it ran for you? or were you the one to open the door and ask it to leave the room?
just tell me. when did “i love you” stop being true?
“He knew I loved him. He knew I would do anything for him.” She said.
“So what happened?”
“He kept breaking my heart. He didn’t expected me to leave. He thought I would stay because I loved him. And I did. I swear I did. But I couldn’t handle the pain anymore. That’s why I left.”
Just a reminder that you couldn’t have made them stay. It wasn’t your fault. They had decided to leave on their own terms and that is not your fault. You’re not the problem and it’s okay to be hurt but you can’t blame yourself. Sometimes people just leave.
They say those who don’t know how to make love, make war; maybe that’s why you turned my bedroom into a battlefield
i believe everyone’s addicted to something,
people, drugs -
whatever it is,
You always laid me down but rarely ever helped me up & that should’ve told me everything I needed to know but even though the sex was rough, your love was gentle. It was like kissing the devil, who had the lips of an Angel, it didn’t make sense but being as fucked in the head as I am, I found beauty in it. I read you a poem I wrote about us & you looked ashamed to admit you weren’t as in love so you didn’t, you said it was beautiful but sad. And I laughed because I get that alot but I should’ve asked what made it so sad, maybe that would’ve saved me from this world of disappointment I’ve been living in. But I don’t think you have it in you to break hearts like a man, with honesty, with ‘I’m sorry but the love just isn’t mutual anymore, I’ve got to let you go.’ Instead you’d rather shatter hearts like a child, with clumsy hands & lies, with ‘I still love you’… - I’m high & rambling.. just know it still hurts
She won’t break you like those other girls will. That’s exactly why you’re terrified of her. She could make you happy. And you know being happy is the most terrifying thing in the universe. Once you’re happy it can be taken from you. -
She’s known sadness, and it has made her kind.
pretty girls just…. make me wanna do better and deep condition my hair, get my nails done regularly, dress nice every day, exfoliate etc. and I feel bad for other girls who hate instead of get inspired but u know!!!!
The female body is the purest form of art you will ever see.
One day you’re going to fall so in love with life that you won’t remember what falling apart over him felt like & it’s going to be so fucking beautiful. Just wait.
I find it really beautiful when someone prays for you without you knowing. I don’t think there’s any form of deeper and purer love. - Unknown (via al-mousawiq8)
Note to self: he left because he changed, not because you did
people whose first instinct is to smile when they make eye contact with you are some of earth’s treasures and need to be protected
Maybe he’s hurting just like I am. Or maybe he’s so careless and at peace, that I’m feeling all the pain for the both of us
You don’t leave the people you love alone.
I’ve always been at war with myself, for right or wrong.
I hate being in love with memories but your touch won’t leave my skin.
Also, I’m angry. I know life is hard, I think everyone knows that in their hearts, but why does it have to be cruel, as well? Why does it have to bite?
You are my home, no matter where we are, it just matters that we stay together
It’s like you’re my 25th hour of the day. It doesn’t exist, but somehow I’m waiting for it everyday.
Sometimes insults sound a lot like gunshots
and he doesn’t love you back. Do not wear your skin lazy. Do not ask why. I am saying: never talk about yourself in past tense. Pour your coffee black, no room, pretend you still know how to hold your own hands in midday light, it is
alright even if you don’t. Trigger warnings like: nighttime, his name. Trigger warnings like, Eric Church, Springsteen, I know he never asked how you’re doing. Like I know that they will say he is doing it for you,
bullshit. Even the silence is loud in a warzone. I am saying: you fell for a coward and came out with deeper stripes and it is alright if he doesn’t love you back, he is past tense, held your body with no room to simply be, you simply mistook his control for safety; I am saying do not romanticize him into anything more than an exit wound.
Saying: you are the gun. Empty the chamber.
The ship is safest when it is in port, but that’s not what ships were built for.
One must accept the fact that others don’t see what you do.
I remember how seeing the shape of your mouth that first time, I kept staring until my blood turned to rain.
Some people reflect light, some deflect it, you by some miracle, seem to collect it.
You’re a spiritual being within a human form, and sometimes you simply desire to connect with a soul who feels like home.
you’re five beers deep at a party and you’re disappointed and you don’t know anyone but you’re fine, you’re fine, you’re not lonely, you’re dancing with your eyes shut and someone’s hands are tracing your hips and you take him home, imagining his hands another hands, his lips another lips. you’re in a taxi, street lamps a whirlpool of caramel lozenges, and the bill is more than you have on your card but you’re fine, you’re fine, and you’re in the self help aisle of the book store but everything is okay, and you just keep telling yourself you’re fine, just keep pretending it’s alright, you’re burning eggs in the fry pan and ordering too much take out and watching day time television and pretending it’s okay really it is all okay i’ll be fine i’m fine
You will get your worst bruises from people who literally didn’t touch you.
The beauty you see in me is a reflection of you.
If you were a city, I said, I’d like to know your poor neighborhoods, your inner parts.
Read your graffiti. Drink your tap water. Feel your smog and dirt stick to my sweat.
Hear your orchestra of sirens and gunshots. I’d know which of your streets to walk.
If you were a city, I’d expect to be robbed.
Every mouth you’ve ever kissed was just practice. All the bodies you’ve ever undressed and ploughed into were preparing you for me.
I don’t mind tasting them in the memory of your mouth.
Was it a long journey? Did it take you long to find me?
You’re here now,
I should’ve picked up on it earlier that our constant small talks were never going to turn into meaningful conversations, and that those 3am hookups would never become anything more than a mistake you look back at when you’re on your 8th shot of vodka.
If I loved you, being this close would kill me.
is moving on - no longer ordering our beer, or ordering it, without thinking?
Everybody isn’t going to love you. Most people don’t even love themselves.
How someone reacts to your sadness says a lot about how long they’re going to be in your life.
You can only grow if you’re willing to feel awkward and uncomfortable when you try something new.
I read somewhere how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong, but to feel strong.
One of the most courageous decisions you will ever make is to finally let go of whatever is hurting your heart and soul.
May I never tell my son to man up
May I never tell my daughter to act like a lady
May I never call their exceptional weird
May I never laugh at their eccentricities
May I never try to correct the way they see the world
May I always encourage them
Look after your body. You were given this shell to look after. Eat healthily, go on long walks, speak to nature and smile. Do not waste your only opportunity to live life to the fullest by hating yourself.
Maybe it’s not the world that’s becoming full of bad people, maybe it’s our thoughts becoming bad toward people.
Do not spend your life searching for a place to call home. Make the bones in your skeleton the only structure you need.
there is two types of tired, I suppose
one is a dire need of sleep the other is a dire need of peace
Neck kissing is like heaven, except it mainly makes you breathe really hard and want to commit a lot of sins right then.
Intimacy is one of my most favorite reasons to be alive. And I don’t just mean the physical aspect it leads to. I mean the number of stories and jokes, and the level of honesty and compassion that lead to the point where I can trust you with my entire body. I’ve come to realize that I constantly hunger for spiritual intimacy – the kind where when I breathe you in, it sets my lungs on fire. The kind where you can look me in the eye and make me feel completely bare.
Sometimes memories are nice to have, but most of the time memories are your enemy. They stop you from moving on.
I should have told you everything while you were listening.
You have clipped wings and scars from when people told you that you were too young and too human and too weak to scale the troposphere with your eyes closed, but you were born from the earth and you were born from a wave of your mothers love and you will end up somewhere in a horizon between the two.
You can keep as quiet as you like, but one of these days somebody is going to find you.
I wish I knew how to move slower. How to kiss hard and still come up for air. How to be kind to each moment like it is my very best lover, an engine of pumpkin sweat and skin. I hope I learn to love myself when no one is looking. I need to drink more water. Maybe that is all I ever need to do. Drink more water. Kiss you. Walk to the store. I am the slowest revolutionary.
If you ever wish for anything, wish that you don’t realize the value of things after they’re gone.
I am happy when I eat fresh fruit, when I burst out laughing, when I discover a new song, when I finish a good book, when I wake up and feel relaxed. I’m glad to have friends, family, a home, food when I’m hungry, hot water when I shower. I love being able to live and see the seasons change, to have gifts at Christmas and at my birthday, to travel sometimes, to have a good education and a great access to culture. I’m flattered when people compliment me, when people smile at me, when people are polite to me. There are so many things that make life so simple and easy and I will always think about them more than all the bad things that will happen to me. I do not have time to be sad every day and ungrateful; I have every reason in the world to be happy.
In other words:
Everything that happens to us is a result of something we did.
You were in the habit of playing songs over and over again until you wanted nothing to do with them and maybe that’s why you don’t call me anymore
I don’t know
why I go looking
for what doesn’t
even when I know
it can smell the hungry
I still feed it
the last bit
Really important meetings are planned by the souls, long before the bodies see each other.
I don’t know if love’s a feeling. Sometimes I think it’s a matter of seeing. Seeing you.
I’m just sorry that she had to be your fortune cookie. Broken, so you could learn something you already should’ve known
Pretend that every single person you meet has a sign around his or her neck that says, ‘Make me feel important.’ Not only will you succeed in sales, you will succeed in life.
It’s important that you keep your feelings and your self worth in different places because when feelings get hurt it shouldn’t change how you view yourself.
today my anthro professor said something kind of really beautiful:
“you all have a little bit of ‘I want to save the world’ in you, that’s why you’re here, in college. I want you to know that it’s okay if you only save one person, and it’s okay if that person is you”
Being human is difficult like building your own house.
Being human is difficult like selling this house you built,
this house where you kept everything you can’t
bear to look at anymore.
We romanticize people in our head so much to the point where they actually don’t exist.
Do not be afraid of spending quality time by yourself. Find meaning or don’t find meaning but ‘steal’ some time and give it freely and exclusively to your own self. Opt for privacy and solitude. That doesn’t make you antisocial or cause you to reject the rest of the world. But you need to breathe. And you need to be.
I am practicing being kind instead of right.
Saying to someone with depression “What do you have to be depressed about?” is like saying to someone with asthma “There’s plenty of air in here to breathe.”
1. Sometimes you’ll be like, “HEY EVERYONE LET’S DO SUSHI AND DRINKS AND FUN STUFF TOMORROW NIGHT!” but then tomorrow night comes and you regret everything as you try to weasel your way out of plans that you created. You resent 24-Hours-Ago-You for being so enthusiastic.
I have longed for people before, I have loved people before.
Not like this.
It was not this.
it’s not that I wait for you
my arms are doors I cannot close.
Do the absent ones know the taste of waiting?
If you’re lonely, bored or unhappy, remember you are young. There is so much time to meet new people and go to new places.
When you love, do not love like a child who becomes obsessed with something he loves. And when you hate, do not hate to the point you want to see someone be destroyed.
We need people in our lives with whom we can be as open as possible. To have real conversations with people may seem like such a simple, obvious suggestion, but it involves courage and risk.
I dont know how to keep you.
I dont know how to let you go.
I mean…..everyone is declaring they dont need an other half, they are whole and complete on their own…….but i mean……we all know you want a someone to love……and there’s nothing wrong or pitiful or sad or pathetic or shameful about that wanting to be loved is a basic human need……so yes you are complete on your own……but dont try so hard to convince everyone you dont wanna find love, cause like i said there is nothing wrong with that
Do you want happiness in life? Then remember this: never be beggars of love, always be a donor of it.
I’ve spent years,
not knowing men to be kind.
But then you came,
with the softness of a trillion
purple skies and the quiet
of overcast with the chance of rain.
And you showed me
that some men
don’t know how to be
However much we disagree with our enemies, our task is to identify with them. They too feel justified in their point of view.
You can tell how someone feels about you by the way they look at you.
An emotional wound requires the same priority attention as a physical wound. Set aside time for mourning.
How often do you hear the tenderness you need to hear? I mean exactly when you need to hear it? Is it ever before that little yolk of hurt wraps itself in layers hard enough to break teeth?
if you removed everything you dislike about yourself, what would be left?
Never judge someone. Especially if you don’t know them, because you don’t know what they’re going through. And for all you know, your words could be the last thing they hear before they decide they have had enough.
I think about the summers before I was 13, when time was standing still, when summer could seem like a lifetime, I think that’s youth. When there was no sense of time and just living. My life is not that scheduled but time passes faster. I think that is the sure, first sign that you are getting old.
Some talk to you in their free time, and some free their time to talk to you.
I have been told, sometimes, the most healing thing to do is remind ourselves over and over and over: Other people feel this too.
If it gets awkward, let it be awkward. That awkwardness is something they created. You don’t owe anyone a performance of being okay when you are not feeling okay so that they can feel better about themselves.
What I know for sure is that what you give comes back to you.
Your heart will become a dusty piano in the basement of a church and she will play you when no one is looking. Now you understand why it’s called an organ.
It turns out procrastination is not typically a function of laziness, apathy or work ethic as it is often regarded to be. It’s a neurotic self-defense behavior that develops to protect a person’s sense of self-worth.
You see, procrastinators tend to be people who have, for whatever reason, developed to perceive an unusually strong association between their performance and their value as a person. This makes failure or criticism disproportionately painful, which leads naturally to hesitancy when it comes to the prospect of doing anything that reflects their ability — which is pretty much everything.
If you find parts of yourself missing, do not search for them in somebody else.
I swear you will find them one day; and if not, you will discover pieces you have never seen before.
You are not a simple work of art.
You are the entire museum.
They call me observant. That’s not particularly true. People are so easy to read - we bleed emotions even in the way we drink our coffee. No one seems to notice though. They’re all too busy drinking their own damn coffee.
Six coffees do nothing when you’re tired of life
There is a candle in your heart, ready to be kindled.
There is a void in your soul, ready to be filled.
You feel it, don’t you?
Not everything is supposed to become something beautiful and long-lasting. Sometimes people come into your life to show you what is right and what is wrong, to show you who you can be, to teach you to love yourself, to make you feel better for a little while, or to just be someone to walk with at night and spill your life to. Not everyone is going to stay forever, and we still have to keep on going and thank them for what they’ve given us.
Sometimes life will test you but remember this: When you walk up a mountain, your legs get stronger.
Some nights I wish I could go back in life. Not to change shit. Just to feel a couple things twice.
How strange it is. We have these deep terrible lingering fears about ourselves and the people we love. Yet we walk around, talk to people, eat and drink. We manage to function. The feelings are deep and real. Shouldn’t they paralyze us? How is it we can survive them, at least for a little while? We drive a car, we teach a class. How is it no one sees how deeply afraid we were, last night, this morning? Is it something we all hide from each other, by mutual consent? Or do we share the same secret without knowing it? Wear the same disguise?
No matter how honestly you open up to someone, there are still things you cannot reveal.
I fucking hate admitting to someone that I miss them. It makes me feel so small and pathetic, because while I’m awake at 4am thinking about you, you probably haven’t thought of me in months. It makes me feel so stupid and I honestly wish I could forget you. But I can’t.
I have often lost myself,
in order to find the burn that keeps everything awake
When you have a cold heart, it doesn’t mean that you don’t feel, but it means that you’ve felt enough.
The ability to observe without evaluating is the highest form of intelligence.
Don’t attach yourself to anyone who shows you the least bit of attention because you’re lonely. Loneliness is the human condition. No one is ever going to fill that space. The best you can do is know yourself… know what you want.
Some people are uncomfortable with silences. Not me. I’ve never cared much for call and response. Sometimes I will think of something to say and then I ask myself: is it worth it? And it just isn’t.
I forgive you, I forgive you and she’s got her hands in your hair and her mouth on your mouth and she’s sucking the poison out of you and maybe you’re an empty room and it hurts that the sun doesn’t touch your darkest corners anymore and it hurts but she loves you and she’s there and she loves you and she’s twisting her fingers around the gaps in your hipbones and kissing you so clean that you’re gasping and it’s alive and it’s brutal and redemption is the house of your body and how the tenants left and how quiet it was inside of you, how you forgot what you did there. How many hearts did you break? How many did you eat? How much dirt were you? How much ugly did your eyes see? And she found you, and found you and dug you out of yourself and thought you were sweet as wine and tasted you and wanted to keep you. Wanted to hold you in the heart of her and keep you and keep you.
I forgive you and she didn’t ask, I forgive you and she didn’t care what you did or who you hurt, I forgive you and how she put herself on the ground next to you, I forgive you, I forgive you. Kiss your forehead, wipe the salt from your eyes, taste the ocean roaring like thunder in your belly, I forgive you, her hands were olive branches and she fed them to you. And how careful you moved in her and how touching her felt like burning, and how you were an empty house and she was a chair and she put herself inside you and the tenants came back and drank sweet cherry wine in the pit of your stomach and the sun came back, I forgive you, how light her hands were, I forgive you, how soft.
I know that you miss me, and that you wish things would have gone differently, or that we would have had more time. But do you think you are the only one who has been taken for granted? Do you think that just because I am trying to move on means that I no longer love you? Because no amount of months filled with silence that are put in-between us will ever change the fact that I still love you and always will. We were both so selfish when we first met. We never seemed so be on the same page, let alone the same topic. I was always waiting for you to speak first while you were always waiting for me to touch you. I am sorry for this mess that we both made. This mess that is too heavy for either of our hands to clear. But everyday we are pushing through these heaps of cruel words and mislead assumptions, and everyday we are realizing that not even love could make enough noise to fill in the silence that we created for ourselves. I’m trying to think of new ways to apologize to you, to tell you that I do not think you are the only one to blame. But as I write out letters of regret I am always left with a blank ending, an empty pen, new reasons to why we should have waited. I spend most of my time looking for my courage in the things you left behind. I’m trying to find it because I want to use it for when you come back. I want to apply it so you can see that I am not all talk but over analyzed actions. I want you to think better of me like you did before you were in front of me. I want to be your muse again, your perfected poetry, your everything is still good thoughts. Maybe I will use this mess of bitter thoughts and passive aggressive confessions in your next letter. Maybe this will help you understand a little bit more to why it is that I’m still holding on. Maybe you’ll write back. Maybe you’ll come back. Maybe you’ll help me come to terms with our love suffering in the way that it did. And maybe, just maybe this will help you see that even though it feels like I’m moving on, I’m somehow still right beside you.
i feel like dropping out of school and just travelling to take photographs of beautiful people and beautiful places
Don’t be scared to walk alone. Don’t be scared to like it.
Sometimes I wish
you could sense when
I was spiraling
and you’d call me
out of the blue
at 2 am
and tell me
it’ll all be alright.
The more I think it over, the more I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.
Today I saw cancer, cigarettes, and shortness of breath. This is why I walk to the ocean. Swim with sharks and jellyfish. I may never get this chance again. This is why if you want to kiss, you should kiss. If you want to cry, you should cry. And if you want to live, you should live. You don’t have to love me. You already did.
If you love someone, please don’t be stupid by not telling them.
I want to be the kind of person who can … move on and forgive people and be healthy and happy. It seems like an easy thing to do in my head. But it’s not so easy when you try it in real life.
Amazing that the light of the sun makes us open
our eyes in the morning. And that when
there is no light, our eyes open anyway:
searching for it, then for each other.
Do not let your tongue mention someone’s faults. You are also full of faults, and others have tongues too.
Who needs cocaine when human emotions can fuck you up just the same.
Maybe it’s brave to quit your job to go paint in Peru for a year, but it’s also brave to work two jobs to help pay for your mom’s medical bills. It’s smart to stay at the law firm until your loans are paid off. It’s OK to only tolerate your job but love your hobbies, because as soon as passions are turned into careers, you risk turning love into work.
So you don’t love your job — who gives a shit?
Are you happy with yourself? Are you happy with the way you treat people? Are you happy with your life?
It hurts having you in my life, it hurts not having you in my life. I can’t win.
& i am warm, warm, giving, giving, always feeding
into someone else.
Opportunities are like sunrises: if you wait too long, you miss them.
We have all hurt someone tremendously, whether by intent or accident. We have all loved someone tremendously, whether by intent or accident. It is an intrinsic human trait, and a deep responsibility, I think, to be an organ and a blade. But, learning to forgive ourselves and others because we have not chosen wisely is what makes us most human. We make horrible mistakes. It’s how we learn. We breathe love. It’s how we learn. And it is inevitable.
The worst thing in the world can happen, but the next day the sun will come up. And you will eat your toast. And you will drink your tea.
Why do people have to be this lonely? What’s the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?
Take it all back. Life is boring, except for flowers, sunshine, your perfect legs. A glass of cold water when you are really thirsty. The way bodies fit together. Fresh and young and sweet. Coffee in the morning. These are just moments. I struggle with the in-betweens. I just want to never stop loving like there is nothing else to do, because what else is there to do?
You didn’t even have to say you lost feelings, I fucking felt it
People only notices the things they want to notice. They notice your flaws, they notice your mistakes, they even notice your weight and judge you on it. But what they don’t notice is the tears in your eyes when you’re on the edge of exploding. They don’t notice the way your arms seem to wrap around your stomach unconsciously as if it was to protect you. They don’t notice the force smiles you give off when someone tries to talk to you. People don’t see how you try to part yourself from everyone in the room, because the thought of you being alone seems like the better choice for you in that moment. They never notice those things and that’s terribly sad.
Perhaps somewhere, someplace deep inside your being, you have undergone important changes while you were sad.
No relationship can truly grow if you go on holding back. If you remain clever and go on safeguarding and protecting yourself, only personalities meet, and the essential centers remain alone. Then only your mask is related, not you. Whenever such a thing happens, there are four persons in the relationship, not two. Two false persons go on meeting, and the two real persons remain worlds apart.
Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing.
You have no idea how much I miss you, do you? I bet even if you did, you wouldn’t care. You might laugh and brush it off. You might tell me “I miss you too” and for a moment I might believe you, until I realise that it’s a lie.
God, it hurts. I can’t just sit here and think about how much I miss you. I want to tell you, and I want you to miss me too, but that isn’t going to happen.
I want to see you, talk to you, scream at you, shout at you, hug you, kiss you.
And I can’t, it’s killing me.
The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself.
I’ll always encourage the reckless texts confessing your feelings. The kind where you throw your phone after hitting send.
I’ll always encourage the horribly straightforward conversations at 3am when conversations get deep and you can’t always put how you feel into words.
I’ll always encourage you to say the things that make your heart beat fast and your legs shake.
Because i know how alive you feel when you feel something for someone else.
I wish friends held hands more often, like the children I see on the streets sometimes. I’m not sure why we have to grow up and get embarrassed about it.
Admire as much as you can. Most people do not admire enough.
People think they know you. They think they know how you’re handling a situation. But the truth is no one knows. No one knows what happens after you leave them, when you’re lying in bed or sitting over your breakfast alone and all you want to do is cry or scream. They don’t know what’s going on inside your head — the mind-numbing cocktail of anger and sadness and guilt. This isn’t their fault. They just don’t know. And so they pretend and they say you’re doing great when you’re really not. And this makes everyone feel better. Everybody but you.
I’ve gotten entirely too good at pretending it doesn’t hurt.
I didn’t know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of my throat and I’d cry for a week.
The outside world is a mirror of what you have on the inside. It’s how you view the life inside you that creates the life outside of you.
Everyone needs to be affirmed and encouraged. We all have our weaknesses, and days when we feel blah.
Never ignore your first instinct just because it isn’t what you want to believe.
Just because you grow apart from people doesn’t change the fact that you grew together, that your roots are entwined even though your branches fork.
You can’t choose your feelings. You can only choose between feeling them or going crazy.
There are hearts that won’t ever hate you, no matter how much you hurt them.
The world is so much bigger than your brain, stop living inside your head.
is swallowing the ocean
that tries to drown you
but sometimes it’s drowning
and going limp but still drowning
and going salt but still drowning
and making snow angels
on the ocean floor.
Sometimes you can’t let go of what’s making you sad, because it was the only thing that made you happy
Allow yourself to trust and believe again. Don’t let bad or painful memories destroy the future you could have, or the person you could be.
Take a shower, wash off the day. Drink a glass of water. Make the room dark. Lie down and close your eyes.
Notice the silence. Notice your heart. Still beating. Still fighting. You made it, after all. You made it, another day. And you can make it one more.
You’re doing just fine.
Not every sorry deserves an ‘it’s okay’ in return.
Not everyone is healthy enough to have a front row seat in our lives. There are some people in your life that need to be loved from a distance. It’s amazing what you can accomplish when you let go of or at least minimize your time with draining, negative, incompatible, not-going-anywhere relationships. Observe the relationships around you. Pay attention.
Be so full of Love and Light that nothing can bother your inner peace.
When you’re 45 and your daughter comes home from school, I hope you see the tiredness in her eyes and the hard work on her face before you ask her why she has a C. I hope you tell her to go rest and that everything will be fixed the next day that she only needs to rest before you say anything else to her besides that you’re proud of her and that you love her.
That night was nothing but getting to know how smooth your body is. The memory of it goes through me like brandy.
…even after a crash,
a key still fits the ignition.
There just isn’t anything left to drive.
Gain a few too many scars,
break some things,
you find yourself with
a couple of friends
and a few precious tools.
You just have to.
Have you ever lost someone you love and wanted one more conversation, one more chance to make up for the time when you thought they would be here forever? If so, then you know you can go your whole life collecting days, and none will outweigh the one you wish you had back.
And I’m so sorry that I couldn’t fill the gap that she left behind. I sincerely apologize for all the times I couldn’t pick you up when you were sad. I tried my best, I honestly did, but I was so caught up with my own sadness I forgot that yours was there too. As selfish as it sounds I hope I left a gap too because you left a hole in my heart that couldn’t be filled with all the tears I’ve ever cried. With a bottle of vodka in one hand and my cellphone in the other I sit there with tear stained cheeks deciding whether or not to call you at three on a Tuesday morning. And oh god, I’m sober now and I’m still here spilling my thoughts onto a social networking site instead because I ran out of vodka the last time I left you a voicemail.
I almost thanked you for
teaching me something about survival
but then I remembered
that the ocean never
handed me the gift of swimming.
I gave it to myself.
I looked you in the eye and I knew; I knew I lost you.
May 16th// 11:08 pm
“Hey, I guess you’re asleep. Call me back when you wake up”
July 24th// 5:04 am
“Wake up I miss you”
September 8th// 2:09 am
“I just wanted to hear your voice”
September 8th// 2:16 am
“Okay listen. I think I might be in love with you please call me back.”
October 11th// 5:42 pm
“Baby girl I love you, I’m so happy you’re mine I’ll see you tonight.”
November 29th// 8:06 am
“You’re still asleep and you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. I can’t wait to get home and see you. I can’t wait to kiss you.”
December 12th// 9:16 am
“Look I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it. I still love you princess. I love you. I’m sorry. I just.. I love you alright. Call me back when you can.”
January 15th// 4:06 pm
“I’m out and I saw something that made me think of you so I thought I would call you. I miss your voice.”
January 18th// 9:12 am
“Baby get dressed, I’m picking you up in 15, let’s run away.”
January 23rd// 8:47 pm
“Oh god your mother hates me”
February 14th// 3:06 pm
“Happy Valentine’s day I love you more than anything. You’re the world. You’re everything good. I’d let you swallow me whole. I like the way you look when you’re tired. I hate it when you cry. I’ll see you” tonight baby.”
February 24th// 12:09 am
April 8th// 4:06 am
“Hey… I need to come over and get the rest of my stuff.
“You need to go out into the world and see things. Find things out. Drink your coffee and sit down to think about things. Think about who you are, where you are, where you come from. Don’t forget where you come from. You’re a small fish in a big pond. That’s why it’s so important to travel. Everyday look down at your feet and say "this is where I am. This is where I’m standing now, I’ve not been in this moment before, and I probably won’t be again.”. Realize that you should never get angry with where you are at any given time. Better times will come. Better times will come for all of us.“
I think everything in life is art. What you do. How you dress. The way you love someone, and how you talk. Your smile and your personality. What you believe in, and all your dreams. The way you drink your tea. How you decorate your home. Or party. Your grocery list. The food you make. How your writing looks. And the way you feel. Life is art.
It matters not who you love, where you love, why you love, when you love or how you love, it matters only that you love
I’m not ignoring you, I just finally realized that you don’t care about me like I care about you. So I moved on.
I love late night conversations, late night drives, late night snacks, late night showers, everything’s better at night.
say “hi” first. if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that if you want to talk to someone, talk to them. go out on a limb. do not wait for the them to talk to you first because, odds are, they’re waiting for the same thing
You can’t break then fix someone cause in the end, you’ll just leave them more broken.
Note to self: it’s up to you to make a place for yourself, even when the world is telling you there is no more room.
Something will grow from all you are going through. And it will be you.
We are not history
We never will be.
History is worth remembering
And you and I
No one could ever understand the comfort of hearing your voice. It will always be my favourite sound. No one will ever know how badly I just want to feel your skin underneath my fingertips. My home is in your arms. No one will ever get how much I miss you. I’d give anything just to look at you. You are my home, my world, my everything and all I want is to be beside you.
I don’t think I love
very many things but
here are the ones I
can think of:
I love the first sip
of coffee in the morning
I love reading someone
else’s words and finding
a connection in them
I love the feeling a
good song invokes
I love wondering
I love driving at night
with no destination
I love the gentle kind
of sadness like a reminder
that I can feel.
I hope you all find yourselves sleeping with someone you love, maybe not all of the time, but a lot of the time. The touch of a foot in the night is sincere. I hope you like your work, I hope there’s mystery and poetry in your life — not even poems, but patterns. I hope you can see them. Often these patterns will wake you up, and you will know that you are alive, again and again.
If a train doesn’t stop at your station, it’s simply because it’s not your train. Don’t try to flag down the conductor and convince them to stop there, even if their own map says that they should just keep going. You may not realize it, but there’s another train trying to come toward you, unable to get into your station because a train that doesn’t even belong there is being delayed there by your intensity.
You think nothing can compare to his hands,
that in a few decades you’ll still wish
for the time he drove you home at dusk,
one hand on the steering wheel,
one on your knee.
When you can’t sleep, remember
that the moon is more of an insomniac
than you and she is doing just fine.
You will write more poems.
You will find someone else
to drive you home.
You will love again.
I hate that I miss you. I hate that you forgot about me. I hate that. I hate that I still care about you.
Be a lamp, or a lifeboat, or a ladder. Help someone’s soul heal. Walk out of your house like a shepherd.
And anyway, when did sexual attraction become the sole metric for physical beauty? Is a sunset “ugly” just because you don’t want to fuck it? What about a waterfall? A horse? Ireland? A song?
1. Sleep earlier, rise earlier - get off your phone, set a time, create a habit.
2. Read more - and not just shitty things. Read them too. But read. Read classics, read newspapers, read magazines, read fictional books, read joke books. Just read.
3. Stay away from people who do not deserve you - you are worth a lot more. Fuck their shitty opinions.
4. Eat well - and I don’t mean diet. I mean, eat well. Eat healthy, indulge every once in a while, but don’t go overboard. Eat for your health and not for society.
5. Create a plan that will be enjoyable for exercise and just do it - no fucking around this year
6. Study well - an hour every single day. Just one hour of uninterrupted, that’s all it will take. Apprendre et travail dans Francais - Je ne sais pas si ce est juste, pardon a mon francais suiveurs
7. Pamper yourself- give yourself one hour. One hour a week to unwind. To week to wash your hair, leave in your conditioner, soak your skin, have a face mask, shave your legs, light some candles, drink some tea, put on nice smelling lotion and comfy pajamas, put on some nice music and sleep well.
8. Put in an effort - doing your hair nicely, putting on that clean change of clothes and a simple coat of mascara has a lot of power to make you feel a hell of a lot better
9. Learn new VOCAB - because why the fuck not? Write down your new words that you learn while reading, use them in conversations; expand your vocab, because when you are sitting in the exam room, you’ll be glad you have.
10. Plan an outing once a week - have something to look forward to, to be excited for. Experience new things.
11. Set small goals - 3 small things to do every day, and don’t sleep till you have them done. 3x365 knowledgeable achievements will be worth it - trust me
12. Meet new people - don’t be so quick to judge.
13. Love yourself - I’m still trying to figure this one out, but I’m beginning to feel like I am worth it.
14. Art - practice makes perfect. Work, and when you can’t work, learn. Discover artists and their pieces, their inspirations, their style. Document it. There is always something to do to improve, whether it be through practice or research.
15. Stick to these goddamn goals. 2015 will be the shit if I make it.
Throw me to the wolves and I’ll come back leading the pack.
May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art — write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.
flood people with compliments. make eye contact. don’t be the first one to let go of a hug. push yourself to run faster and further. listen intentionally.
Stop greatly underestimating your ability to quit loving a person. It’s cold, and it’s brutal, and it’s one of the most human things I’ve ever witnessed. Switch it off. Stop feeding it. Stop nourishing it. Love is like a flower. Without the sun, and air and rain, it’ll die.
i stayed up all night
reading conversations we had in april
wondering how long it takes
for an empty space
to feel full again
Baby, just make sure you’re doing the drugs and the drugs aren’t doing you
When you love someone you tend to tell them so much about your past because you’re trying to catch up to the present moment. You’re trying to say, my past has been bloody. My past has been as painful and pounding as an ear ache, but I am still here. I survived it. You’re trying to say, here I am before you. I can be brutal. I can be as harsh and unforgiving as sun burn, but this is how I got to this moment. This is who I am. I am not always kind and lovely, I am so often fierce and cutting and unforgiving. I have made some mistakes I’m still trying to forgive myself for. Please accept it. Please try to love me for it. Here is the muscle and bone of me. It’s frightening. It’s a roller coaster. Here is the meat of me, after I’ve shed my skin, after I’ve left the cicada shell behind. It’s manic. It’s a monster, but it will try to love you well. It will try to leave fingerprints all over you.
Falling in love with you was a lot like getting drunk. It all happened so fast; I had no idea what I was doing at the time or what the consequences would be. All I wanted was to feel good. And, God, it felt so good. Of course, things got out of hand before I could stop myself. I wanted more and more of you, just like I always want more alcohol. But alcohol isn’t always enough to make you happy. And more often than not, the effects of it have you lying face-down on the pavement. Just like love. Now, I’d like to think of myself as hungover. Not because I fell out of love with you, no. But because I still have some alcohol, some of you, left in me. And I feel ruined because of it. I feel like vomiting all the time, and I have a massive, eternal headache. The difference between this feeling and an actual, legitimate hangover is that I think I’ll be feeling this way for a long, long time.
I’m hungover you, but I’ll never be over you.
I am simply thankful for your existence,”
“Whether I am meant to be a part of it or not.
Fall for them but don’t let them ruin you.
You’ll need coffee shops and sunsets and road trips. Airplanes and passports and new songs and old songs, but people more than anything else. You will need other people and you will need to be that other person to someone else, a living breathing screaming invitation to believe better things.
How to kill someone: Pretend they don’t exist, Act like everything you ever said to them was a lie
I truly believe you can fall in love with anyone. I believe that if you got the chance to see someone at their worst and when they’re most vulnerable you wouldn’t have a choice but to love them because there’s something beautiful about a broken soul that sees hope when you’re around.
When people treat you like they don’t care, believe them.
There wasn’t a day where I didn’t think of you. I’d be drinking coffee in the mornings or tucking myself to sleep and I’d get this sudden urge to call you. Of course I never did though. I don’t think I could. It’s been too long since the last time we spoke and from what I’ve heard, you’re happy and you’re in love again and I’m proud of you. I will not be the one to drag you into what we were again. I’ll let you be happy, even now you are deserving of it.
It astounds me that intelligence can be measured and quantified. Tell me, how many points does compassion get? How will you rate trust and loyalty? How much is forgiveness worth?
So you win. You forgot about me while I was still saying your name in my sleep. Even now, I wake up in the middle of the night and it’s still about you. Look, I can’t forget it. I won’t forget it. You don’t forget the people you love, you just learn to live with them somewhere still inside of you.
Kiss me, kill me, do something.
You are so used to your features, you don’t know how beautiful you look to a stranger.
We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery we need humanity. More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness.
Bad stuff does happen, sometimes. Always remember that. But remember that you have to move on somehow. You pick your head up and stare at something beautiful like the sky, or the ocean, and you move the hell on.
These days you will do anything to distract yourself. You’ll dance in the mirror and pretend you’re at a night club, read until you confuse yourself with the narrator of the story, spend hours disconnected from reality. It terrifies you that you’ve forgotten more days than you remember. You feel like a melting pot, each day blurring at the edges. You want to move closer to the city, or fall in love, or dye your hair a daring shade that would make everyone do a double take. You need a holiday. You need to do something drastic. All you want is someone to come into your life and shake it up like one of the those snow globes that was sold at every souvenir shop in the 90s. Sometimes oil spills and turns the gravel into a rainbow and you feel sentimental for a second. Sometimes the skin on your fingers peel off and you feel even more sentimental because it gives the illusion that you’re shedding. You’re becoming. You feel like it’s about time you got it together, but you don’t realise how damn lucky you are. Despite the pain that comes from breathing and breaking and burning, you should be so fucking thankful. Maybe the sound of an ambulance siren will always make your stomach hit the floor. Maybe when you see a razor you’ll still fantasise, maybe when you see oncoming traffic you’ll feel like running straight into it. But stay, stay for you are so loved. You have made so many mistakes but you will never become one. It’s okay. Stay for the days that make your heart clap, the seconds where you feel freedom vibrating in your bones, the nights that electrify your hair and drag you to the stars.
Flowers grow back, even After they are stepped on.
So will I.
its weird how my sexuality is so important to people with whom i have no intention of having sex