I wish I could see you again,
Audre Lorde, from The Collected Poems of Audre Lorde; “Memorial II,” (via violentwavesofemotion)
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@blasterarmed
I wish I could see you again,
Audre Lorde, from The Collected Poems of Audre Lorde; “Memorial II,” (via violentwavesofemotion)
I don’t have qualities, only fragilities. But sometimes…sometimes I have hope.
Clarice Lispector, from a letter to Olga Borelli featured in Why This World: A Biography of Clarice Lispector (via violentwavesofemotion)
#i love you
It’s not my fault!
You are not weak just because your heart feels so heavy.
Andrea Gibson (via rapierlead)
“ Be mindful of the future, but not at the expense of the moment. ”
‘… OH CRAP.’
this time when she smiled , all trace of the hardened , desert dwelling scavenger melted away . &. WRITTEN BY JOANNA .
she’s frankly annoyed at the most . it was strange . for once in her life , being confronted with a reminder of pain and suffering she felt agitated and nothing else . how could her mind allow such a caricature of disheartenment to interrupt her day ? it’s been long enough since that day and just when she thought every piece of her was exactly were it was a piece fragments again .
❛ i’m not in the mood today , little ghost . ❜
she tries to push through him to determine he’s just a figment of her trauma ridden mind , but she only embarrassingly clashes with matter and atoms . it takes her a moment to realise the truth . AND SHE KNOWS SHE’S DAMNED .
only when she collides against him does he raise a hand to grip her arm. his grasp is firm, but only because he’d meant to steady her, mistaking her shove for a stumble.
“yeah, good to see you too, kid.” though the execution is dry, the sentiment is true. wearing his heart on his sleeve never did him any good, though. he’s certain he feels her stiffen and he notices then that something’s changed. he ducks his head to meet her gaze, but she’s somewhere else. distant. “kid.” a beat. no change.
so he tries again, his fingers sliding to press gently against her elbow. “rey?”
by Neil Young
Last night, the stars hung just a little crooked. And I wished the world to be kinder to you.
Love, Em // This Is Maybe A Love Letter #2 (via scribblingwithstardust)
They call you heartless; but you have a heart and I love you for being ashamed to show it.
Friedrich Nietzsche (via stoicremains)
you were not born of stardust, darling, stardust was born from you, it’s why the stars feel your sorrow and aching heart. they are the fragments of your lost soul, scattered across an endless g a l a x y, but don’t be afraid, darling, maybe life has broken you, but it can never DESTROY you. // as penned by mari
“ little ghost, get out of my way. ”
“hey! who’s little?” the words came out before he could even consider the meaning of the scavenger’s words. before he fell, the last thing he saw was ben’s face ( and he remembered leia’s face, the grief-worn one she’d had just before he was lowered into his carbonite prison ) but the last thing he heard was a scream, a cry, a ‘no!’
“rey,” he muttered, tone lowered - almost ragged, unsteady like he was starting to feel. his lips opened but no words were spoken. he tried once more but couldn’t find the words he needed to reassure her he was real and, though beaten and tattered, still very much alive. so he stayed silent and kept his distance, but he remained planted where he stood.
▋▍ TO PRETEND LIVES LAST LONGER THAN MOMENTS ( SANDMAN ) ┆ accepting
some things never change.
❛ i don’t need —— ❜ but speech is cut off as she forces a long breath to leave her, eyes closing for a fraction of a second. mental images are drawn, then, reminding her of the troops who were never offered help in the first place, for they had lost their lives before anybody could rush to their side. they didn’t have bacta-patches, let alone somebody like han. she’ll settle on giving han a grateful nod, lips pursing into a thin line. ❛ thank you. ❜
he expects her to roll her eyes at him and he suspects that’s what she’s doing beneath those shut eyes — that is, until she utters two words of gratitude. he’s taken aback for a moment, but once the words register, he’s beaming. “what was that? could’ve sworn I just heard you thank me.”
“when do the nightmares slip out into the daylight?”
when your fears keep you from sleeping. when you run and the nightmare never ends.
and it’s not from his own experience that he draws an understanding, but from leia’s. ( the nights he woke to her low groans, as though even in sleep, she tries to hide her pain. the days that followed, when she’d walked with closed fists and her whole body taut like a bow. )
he’d seen a lot of leia in poe. the conviction. the compassion. it was almost unsettling.
"when you don’t stop sleeping,” he says finally, trying for a bit of humor. he bites at the inside of his cheek, concern starting to seep through. “you all right, moonbeam?”
▋▍ TO PRETEND LIVES LAST LONGER THAN MOMENTS ( SANDMAN ) ┆ accepting