I crave to be held with delicacy. Like how u will hold a newborn. Or a weak flower. Or a glass bowl. Cause the world has made me equally fragile
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

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@angel-april
I crave to be held with delicacy. Like how u will hold a newborn. Or a weak flower. Or a glass bowl. Cause the world has made me equally fragile
That's the thing about people who haven't been loved much..They think about every kind gesture, a slightest touch of fingers, kind smiles, random acts of love, intimacy in every small thing done. They find that love wherever they can cause it was never given to them freely. They don't ask for love, they search for it everywhere.
The tip of your fingers lazily dancing across my arms, your soft lips on my neck, your intoxicating smell in the air while I am lost in your arms. Nothing comes closer to that feeling. Nothing.
When he sends you hand pics>>>>
@the2headedcalf / On Love, Alain de Botton / @tilthat / Céline Sciamma / Twitter: Nightshiftmp3 / Twitter: Thepartypope / Portrait of a Lady on Fire / The Clean House, Sarah Ruhl / The History of the Band-Aid
Just few words from you are enough to make me live a thousand years.
Let my wet lashes tell you tales about my heart aches.
Let them tell you the reason behind them.
Let them tell you how it was you who caused em.
Let my wet lashes tell you that's how I knew it was all just a mistake.
I never really believed on wishing while blowing your fallen eyelash, at 11:11 or on shooting stars but as I am in a field of dandelions right now, all I can think about is wishing on every one that you'll be mine.
- an excerpt from a book I'll probably write
I have been rewarded with thorns so many times that now, as a flower is being handed to me, I am scared to accept it.
I just wanna be appreciated. Not through lip service, not through vapid compliments, not through half-hearted work shout outs. Just genuinely fucking appreciated. I do so much and yet it seems my absence is the only thing that will mean anything.
if only i could find her somewhere else. if there was a book, a song, a room, a time of day, a season, a movie, a place.
anywhere.
I miss you but do I even have the right to do that? Because at the end of the day, you were never mine to begin with.
you are not hard to love. some people will not see your value. they’re not right for you, and that isn’t your fault. rejection does not make you unworthy.
THIS!!
i may be very cynical about relationships and love, but all i want in the world is to share a bookshelf with someone, watching as our books merge together until we can no longer remember whose is whose
Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high.
If we don't go on dates in beautiful museums and then take cute pictures, then what are we doing?
Wtf is hook up culture? write me poems then die in a war