[ I prefer the window seat ]

22 · she/her (but identifies as a concept) ·

[agurlisnoone]

[avpdsnail]

shoutout to that underlying sense of unease that’s made a home in my bones

[soracities]

Jean Valentine, from “Sanctuary”

[agurlisnoone]

that poem i wanted to write to you after spending an afternoon with you / you are sitting right next to me / you are not scared of holding eye contact a little longer / only this time it ends up in between our lips / our eyes shut / i need you closer to me / closer than 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 / you tell me how you cannot believe 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 / what 𝘪𝘴 this / are you in- is this- / wait don't say it until you find yourself thinking about me while listening to your favourite songs / you place your head on my chest / a momentary 𝘱𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 in time / 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 / the weight of the thought lingers on for a moment or so / will it pass / will it pass / will it pass / you light my cigarette / i look at you / 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘮𝘦 / i 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 let you / in this moment we could swallow promises of never giving this up / our downfall / between these exact same walls / your fingers on my lips / never confess to our 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘴 / NO / you tell me / we cannot call them sins when committed from a place of- / wait don't say it / yet / 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵 / it's getting dark / our afternoon has melted into a night / wonders of the world / kept in the dark / i have looked for them in your eyes / wait why do your eyes tell a different story / a new morning / i will never tell you that i cried myself to sleep last night / the sound of your voice breaking / don't you cry / you beautiful boy / 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘣𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘶𝘴 / when are you coming back / my skin / the memory of your touch / don't take too long / come back before you forget / I will be right here

[bakwaaas]

being held sounds crazy wish it was real

[agurlisnoone]

I remember having all these recurring dreams where I keep going back to all these places he took me to that used to be his hideout places. He takes my hand and we run, giggling all the way through. The only thing that seems to have changed is the fact that in these dreams we never leave. We go there and that's it. Whenever I wake up from one such dream I break into tears.

[agurlisnoone]

I desired to be present.

—little doodles I made on a slow sunday.

[soundcarvings]

[flowerytale]

The Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1934–1939

[lunah-goodbye]

Marya Hornbacher, Madness: A Bipolar Life // Ocean Vuong, Night Sky with Exit Wounds // Robin McKinley, Deerskin

[poetic--elixir]

//excerpts from ‘this modern love’ by will darbyshire

[mournfulroses]

Marina Tsvetaeva, from The Essential Poems of Marina Tsvetaeva; "For Anna Akhmatova,"

[kosmogrl]

[jewelry-by-irene]

vintage heart-shaped lockets

[flowerytale]

Virginia Woolf wearing her mother’s Victorian dress, photographed by Beck and McGregor for British Vogue, 1926

[kosmogrl]

[agurlisnoone]

Everything that we hold onto will pass (I ain't that good with things. or people in general). Once an old friend said to me that we do not really appreciate what we have until we lose it. But we do not miss people or connections. We miss versions of ourselves, these notions of them that we find ways to assign to the strangers they eventually became, habits, mixed feelings near the end, a last phone call, certain emotions we felt when we saw them for the last time, some flashbacks or the usual angst of missing out on a lot- things like these are what we reminisce about (what am I if not an array of the fragments left behind by wanderers who couldn't walk with me for long?). And for days we have to deal with the wreck they caused (I keep away from people because of the damage they could do. the damage they could find out about. this is what scares me the most about letting people in). But then, at some point, a different light shines on us; it crosses mountains to get to us (sometimes people just find you. save you. you keep them. they see right through you. they hold your hand when you're in a crowd, when you're scared, when the lights go out one by one and it feels like the two of you are the last people on earth- they still hold your hand and sit with you in silence. you look at the stars and they look at you). When we see ourselves in that (their) light we'll know (everything will be alright).

[agurlisnoone]

A "when I saw you for the first time, I knew" kinda love.

[agurlisnoone]