You've been with yourself from the very start, so if ever you'll wander away, you can always come back.
I'm a little lost // ma.c.a
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@acatallepsy
You've been with yourself from the very start, so if ever you'll wander away, you can always come back.
I'm a little lost // ma.c.a
https://www.instagram.com/p/BTWh2JxjkiL/
Zora Neale Hurston; Their Eyes Were Watching God
when healing from a person.. you will have thoughts like “I loved them more than I loved anyone, I never knew I could love someone so much, I’ll never love someone that much again..”
It is important to realize that your ability to love that person didn’t come from them, it came from within you. You were always a lover, already someone who could love deeply. Just because they are gone doesn’t mean that goes away. They didn’t give you the capacity to love, they just gave you a place to express it. Don’t give someone else the credit for how hard you could love, that was you and it still is.
pondering
“For her the ocean was more than a dream, it was a place she needed to visit to find herself and when she returned to the city, you could see the sun in her eyes, the wind in her hair, and taste the infinite salt on her lips.”
— Jose Chaves (via meineluft)
“The bravest thing you could ever do is let someone hurt you and still talk beautiful about them.”
— (hatin)
“And then I felt sad because I realized that once people are broken in certain ways, they can’t ever be fixed, and that is something nobody ever tells you when you are young.”
~ Unknown
“The moon likes secrets. And secret things. She lets mysteries bleed into her shadows and leaves us to ask whether they originated from otherworlds, or from our own imaginations.”
—
the disrespect is all the closure you need
“I wish I could rub the grief from you as if it were a smudge on the cheek.”
— Sandra Cisneros, from “Eyes of Zapata,” Woman Hollering Creek (via lifeinpoetry)
a clean room, some fresh sheets, a hot shower, coconut oil, and some scented candles
“I trained myself a long time in the art of restraint. (…) pretending I knew a method for forgetting pain.”
— Czeslaw Milosz, New and Collected Poems: 1931-2001