[wordsnquotes]

I am not the first person you loved. You are not the first person I looked at with a mouthful of forevers. We have both known loss like the sharp edges of a knife. We have both lived with lips more scar tissue than skin. Our love came unannounced in the middle of the night. Our love came when we’d given up on asking love to come. I think that has to be part of its miracle. This is how we heal. I will kiss you like forgiveness. You will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms will bandage and we will press promises between us like flowers in a book. I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin. I will write novels to the scar of your nose. I will write a dictionary of all the words I have used trying to describe the way it feels to have finally, finally found you. And I will not be afraid of your scars. I know sometimes it’s still hard to let me see you in all your cracked perfection, but please know: whether it’s the days you burn more brilliant than the sun or the nights you collapse into my lap your body broken into a thousand questions, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I will love you when you are a still day. I will love you when you are a hurricane.

Clementine von Radics, Mouthful of Forevers (via wordsnquotes)

[coral]

[brokenwings171]

I am a self destructive anxious mess, filled with forced confidence and tired eyes. Always wanting to be better, stuck in the constant mind state of a disappointment, desperately trying to find a way to feel deserving of love

[inkskinned]

there are infinite universes, you tell me, sipping on coffee and smiling in that hungry-teeth way that makes me think maybe last night you battled demons and are still recovering you say that each of our nightmares are glimpses into another reality because with infinity, everything that could be, is and somewhere in those words is a hollow note like a greedy thirst like you maybe saw your own death and now you’re jealous of the version of you which actually achieved it and i don’t know much but i do know that we’re in the universe where monkeys evolved to write hamlet and maybe that doesn’t mean anything to you but i do know that they pointed a telescope out to the black nothingness beyond our moon and after four years, that glass eye picked up evidence of tens of thousands of undiscovered places where love and peace and good coffee might all exist like there might be life out there in all that blackness i do know that we look at the moons in our life and think that we are the darkness beside it, we think that we will never shine like our best friends or we’ll never be our mom’s favorite or we’ll never actually succeed at anything but four years is a long time and four years ago i was nothing but a black hole and i still pointed my soul in the direction of my darkness and said “find the light within” and after four years of staring i’ve seen such wonderful and terrifying things and not all of it has been easy and not all of it has been fun but good lord the possibilities i’ve found tucked away inside of myself are so endless and extraordinary that i cannot contain the joy of it all because yes, i could focus on the coldness of space, but i’d rather think about the brilliant warmth of the stars because i can’t think of anything more beautiful than hurting deep and still loving who you are and i know that you haven’t even found the strength to look directly at the mirror but good lord do me a favor and look up and look deeper because we are all tiny contained universes and instead of wishing you had been born as one where your fingers were strong and your teeth never broke on self-hating words and instead of staring at the moon and thinking that you will never know how to glow like she does hold your universe close and wear enough sweaters to keep out the coldness of space and tell yourself that this is your home and that even in the darkest places you will find your stars if you just wait.

For my friend who asked me to write about the universe. // r.i.d (via inkskinned)

[gosh]

They call you heartless; but you have a heart and I love you for being ashamed to show it.

Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra  (via teenager90s)

[misschelly19]

This is the chemical formula for love: C8H11NO2+C10H12N2O+C43H66N12O12S2 dopamine, seratonin, oxytocin. It can be easily manufactured in a lab, but overdosing on any of them can cause schizophrenia, extreme paranoia, and insanity. Let that sink in.

(via mrzim)

Bruh..

[brokenwings171]

Letting people down is what I do best

[heartcountry]

It was dark and I was dark and everything was dark and you laid your thunder at my feet and lightning spilled across zeus’s shoulders as you told me you’d come back for me every time. Baby, where’d all that sky go? Did you feel it with you when you left? Did you feel it even after when you were across the world raining inside of someone else’s blood. Inside of someone else’s skin.

Y.Z, the broken hallelujahs (via rustyvoices)

[chillypuppy-deactivated20170527]

I. Dear math teacher, I’m sorry I didn’t do my homework. I was busy last night fighting off the demons that made a home inside my head. II. Dear English teacher, I’m sorry my essay wasn’t done. I was preoccupied last night, trying to eat my dinner without having my third mental breakdown that day. III. Dear history teacher, I’m sorry I fell asleep in class. I was up all night trying to decide whether or not there was still a point in staying alive. IV. Dear school system, I’m sorry that I’m the one filled with so many apologies. You should be sorry that I feel the need to apologize for my mental health. You should be sorry for making students believe that their grades should come before their lives. You should be sorry for your lack of education and awareness of psychological diseases. And you owe me so many apologizes for all those fucking nights when I stayed up late to finish my homework, despite the blood pouring from my wrists.

I said sorry, now where are your fucking apologies? // Hannah B.  (via f-ightingback)

[brokenwings171]

[brokenwings171]

[brokenwings171]

"I could get used to the feeling of your mouth on mine. We kissed a handful of saturdays ago and you didn't tasted like the liquor we usually share together. I could kiss you again. I actually can’t seem to stop thinking about kissing you again. I decided at 4 in the morning that I could actually let myself love you. I think I could get used to letting you slip your arms around my waist. Scatter teeth marks across my collarbone. I am not your mother and you are not your father. I promise I'm not those other girls, I won't smear my lipstick on someone else’s collar. I will teach you how to love without walking out the door. We are our own people. We can be whoever we want to be, and i want to be yours."

-Anonymous

[alice-but-not-in-wonderland-dea]

~common sad black and white blog~

[lora-mathis]

Punching yourself in the face as a means of self-defense. Your friends asking why your right cheek is swollen as you say, “I tripped.” Chewing on your tongue to keep yourself quiet. Making a hole in your throat every time you want to speak. Smoking six cigarettes before it’s even three p.m. Living off of frozen macaroni and cheese and coffee. Texting your friends back a few hours too late. Saying you’re sick. You’re tired. You’re busy. Closing the door to your bedroom. Closing the blinds. Forgetting you exist. Pulling the blankets over your head and not moving. Sleep as a means of escape. Sleep as a means of flirting with “goodbye.” Sleep as death, without the commitment. Same songs on repeat. Or even worse, silence. Your bedroom like a tomb. Your bedroom like foreshadowing. Bathroom tiles stained with blood. Bottle of pills in the medicine cabinet, but who the fuck goes because of ibuprofen? Belly empty. Eyes drooping. Head like a woodpecker tapping relentlessly. Begging, let me in. Saying, forgive me, I’ve changed. And you, the sucker, taking it back every time. The lies that get you out of bed. The lazy-eyed laments that are better tucked away. Heart like a sick dog with its head bowed panting, put me outside. I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.

The Lies That Get You Out Of Bed | Lora Mathis (via lora-mathis)

[ignissannat]

Mermaid and Sea-maid from Arthur Spiderwick’s Field Guide to the Fantastical World

Other creatures from this book - here

[lora-mathis]

I am sorry for filling you with beer and bad thoughts and then asking you why you shook. I am sorry for pinching you, for hitting you, for bruising the thin-skinned parts of you. I am sorry for the names I called you when we were fighting. You are not ugly. You are not useless. You would not be better off gone. I’m sorry for almost throwing you out into the street because my sadness was too much for me. I’m sorry for carving my fingernails into your thigh and then resenting the way people asked, “How’d that happen?” I’m sorry for plucking you and nicking your calves with drugstore razors. I’m sorry I let some people see you in the moonlight. They didn’t deserve to know the color of your hips like I do. I’m sorry for leaving you convulsing over a toilet bowl over some boy. I’m sorry I did not thank you for simply trying to take me where I wanted to go. I’m sorry I screamed at you to shrink, shrink, shrink when all you could do was grow. I’m sorry that this apology is ten years too late. I’m sorry that it will probably come again. I’m sorry that I do not treat anybody else as poorly as I have treated you. I’m sorry that I am constantly learning how to love you, when you have never once doubted how you feel about me. I’m sorry in ways I have not yet learned to communicate.

An Apology to My Body | Lora Mathis (via lora-mathis)

[brokenwings171]

I'm strong enough to fix myself