Daisy Flower

Dreaming. Expressing myself...

[daisygirlflower]

I want you to be my best friend first...

[daisygirlflower]

I want to be your ambition

Andy Rodriguez

[sincerelyjasminex3-blog-blog]

Everyday you give me a reason to like you less.

[doesntmattterrr-blog]

[eeelahedelina-deactivated201507]

[theignorantbutcaring-deactivate]

[captin-cupcake-deactivated20221]

If you miss me, contact me, call me, text me, message me, find someway to send something to me. Don’t tell me you miss me and disappear for days. I miss you too. But I’m getting tired of being the only one starting talks.

Zachary Wolfgang Applebaum (via wolf-of-apples)

[insomniacchick]

You broke me and you don’t even realize it.

(via insomniacchick)

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

I am calm. I am calm. It is the calm before something awful.

Sylvia Plath, from Three Women (via cramblings)

[victoriajoan]

Why did you feel so hurt then, and so curious, and also happy, and also set free?

Margaret Atwood, from The Door (via victoriajoan)

[endless-unfolding]

You cannot fight against the truth of what has happened.                           You cannot expect metaphor                                                 to comfort you

Nate Pritts, from “Decoherence,” in Ilk #2 (via a-pair-of-ragged-claws)

[movies-quotes]

[notmanetstype]

I will lose you. It is written into this poem the way the fisherman’s wife knits his death into the sweater.

Gregory Orr, “The Sweater” (via notmanetstype)

[viperslang]

I could love another face, but why?

Karen Green, Bough Down (via viperslang)

[lifeinpoetry]

When he laughs at the texture of your sadness, / turn away from his mouth, no matter how soft.

Franny Choi, from “How to Win an Argument,” Floating, Brilliant, Gone (via lifeinpoetry)

[lifeinpoetry]

Remember how he returned from death a torn scab you couldn’t bear to hold. Say this is what love does. It’s too early to call this failure grace.

Stevie Edwards, from “Rising,” Good Grief (via lifeinpoetry)

[watchoutforintellect]

I am so tired of that old suffering. I want life to go forward.

Anne Sexton, from A Self-Portrait In Letters (via watchoutforintellect)