of loveletters on papercups

Peter gave me his thimble and I stole Wendy's thunder.

[thelovejournals]

I wonder what goes through your mind when someone mentions my name to you.

Unknown (via thelovejournals)

[beanout-blog]

Things I won’t talk to you about

[sapphicangelic-deactivated20161]

i love girls. girls with muddy converse and oversized flannels. girls with killer contour and obsessive use of snapchat’s dog filter. girls who paint and draw and sing. girls who like math and girls who bake. girls who are bad at history and girls who don’t understand science. girls who match their hijabs to their outfits, girls who get made fun of for their hijabs. girls with big, unapologetically natural hair and a loud, bold laugh. girls who people claim are not girls, but truly are. girls with dark body hair and girls with scars and girls with stretch marks that riddle their entire bodies. girls whose bodies don’t fit standards of ‘plus size beauty’, with sweatpants and cozy sweatshirts and mascara from the day before. girls who wear overalls and doodle about their plants. girls who wear leather jackets and chokers and listen to indie rock. girls who like today’s top 40 and girls who listen to 1960s psychedelic jams. girls with mood disorders and personality disorders and autistic girls and girls with learning disabilities. girls who are chronically ill, girls who use wheelchairs, girls who still find the light to keep them going day after day after day. girls who love girls and are proud, girls who love girls and are afraid. girls who like the moon, girls who like the sun, girls who stay inside and don’t care about either.

i love you. i love all of you.

[anamorphosis-and-isolate]

[beanout-blog]

You love me. You love me. You love me.

Maybe if I say it enough, it’ll turn out to be true.

[beanout-blog]

Everyday

At the bus stop

while I waited for the B131 to take me to my friend’s baby shower this man next to me made sure his eyes never left my arms, my back, my legs the teenage boy cycling past decided to sing of wedding nights just as he inched closer the one sitting with the newspaper - his salt and pepper hair reminding me of my grandfather - knew how to strategically brush his hand against my body and disguise his intention this is how everyday is.

~ Bee / things you should get used to

(The metro. The station. The bus. The footpath. He walked too close. Stood too close. Was ambidextrous.)

[bob-belcher]

[beanout-blog]

Days like this

On days like this I don’t care how bright it shines outside, how many people text me to ask how I’m doing, if the salary account is credited with enough to get me through the month, how the writing is flowing. On days like this I only want to crawl into the garden pit, smell the earth, be still, pretend to be dead, wonder who would miss me and who wouldn’t and how long it would take them all to not think of me one day and then not at all. On days like this the weatherman’s assurances don’t prepare me for what’s to come. I could drown or I could be buried depending on how my heart is heaving under this heavy loneliness, when you’re there and not there, and everything that seemed good once seems to be shriveling under an anxiety that lurks constantly telling you how you can’t be happy, how you were right about your fears, how he will leave like everyone else. On days like this the isolation beats loudest.

~ Bee

(It didn’t rain that night, but it rained later. He called several times. Later. The food was cold.)

[captainragtag]

hey what if someone invented a machine that allowed women to transfer their pregnancies to men and then the government passed a law that if a woman didn’t want to have a baby the biological father was required to carry it how fast do you think birth control would stop being an issue

[iidelirium]

BEST NIGHTBLOG POST EVER

[sevenpoints]

“IT’S UNETHICAL TO FORCE PEOPLE TO CARRY A BABY!!!!” MEN SHOUT

“NO FUCKING SHIT!!!!” WOMEN REPLY

[notthebeanout]

Everyday

At the bus stop while I waited for the B131 to take me to my friend’s baby shower this man next to me made sure his eyes never left my arms, my back, my legs

the teenage boy cycling past decided to sing of wedding nights just as he inched closer

the one sitting with the newspaper - his salt and pepper hair reminding me of my grandfather - knew how to strategically brush his hand against my body and disguise his intention

this is how everyday is.

~ Bee / things you should get used to

(The metro.

The station.

The bus.

The footpath.

He walked too close. Stood too close. Was ambidextrous.) 

[thewayitwas13]

[notthebeanout]

Days like this

On days like this I don’t care how bright it shines outside, how many people text me to ask how I’m doing, if the salary account is credited with enough to get me through the month, how the writing is flowing.

On days like this I only want to crawl into the garden pit, smell the earth, be still, pretend to be dead, wonder who would miss me and who wouldn’t and how long it would take them all to not think of me one day and then not at all.

On days like this the weatherman’s assurances don’t prepare me for what’s to come. I could drown or I could be buried depending on how my heart is heaving under this heavy loneliness, when you’re there and not there, and everything that seemed good once seems to be shriveling under an anxiety that lurks constantly telling you how you can’t be happy, how you were right about your fears, how he will leave like everyone else.

On days like this the isolation beats loudest.

~ Bee

(It didn’t rain that night, but it rained later. He called several times. Later. The food was cold.)

[crushedpapercups]

On days like this I don’t care how bright it shines outside, how many people text me to ask how I’m doing, if the salary account is credited with enough to get me through the month, how the writing is...

[crushedpapercups]

"What no one ever talks about is how dangerous hope can be. Call it forgiveness with teeth." ---------------------------------- "Promise me this: when you finally leave me, you'll get creative. Tell me I was more disappointing than your childhood. Send me your bloody ear with a letter saying, I've got to Gogh, you're making me crazy. I am hard to love but know this much: you are the only thing I like doing more than writing poems. ---------------------------------- @clementinevonradics pretty much wrote a book after my heart. ---------------------------------- First there's a surprise. Then there's a surprise that makes you ache in its intensity. Thankyou @elusivewanderer for knowing. #poem #poetry #wordporn #poetrycommunity #book #bookstagram #booklover #bookworm #booknerd #bookporn #heartache #mouthfulofforevers #clementinevonradics

[crushedpapercups]

Like. #spilledink #word #words #like #love #storytelling #poetry #poem #poetrycommunity #writing #writingcommunity #typewriter #writer #writersofinstagram #deadpoetssociety #poetrysociety #writerscommunity #poetsofinstagram #instawrite #instadaily #instamood #thingsthathappen #littlethings #bigimpact

[crushedpapercups]

Everyday. #spilledink #poetry #poem #storytelling #typewriter #poetrycommunity #writingcommunity #writing #writer #deadpoetssociety #poetrysociety #poetsofinstagram #writersofinstagram #instapoet #instawrite #instadaily #instamood #everyday #everydayindia #men #women #thingstheydontwantyoutoknow

[crushedpapercups]

Skin. #spilledink #poetry #poem #thingstheydontwantyoutoknow #instamood #writersofinstagram #instawrite #igwriters #igpoets #poetrycommunity #wordhour #word #deadpoetssociety #writing #skin #andotherstories