Janaina Medeiros
Claire Keane
Cosmic Funnies
Origami Around
Love Begins
Discoholic 🪩
Sweet Seals For You, Always
@theartofmadeline
todays bird
DEAR READER
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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ellievsbear
RMH
Keni
Today's Document
Mike Driver
Monterey Bay Aquarium
taylor price
trying on a metaphor
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Paraguay
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Philippines
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seen from Bangladesh
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@fadedjean-s
I hope that someday, somebody wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight, and that’s all they do. They don’t pull away. They don’t look at your face. They don’t try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms, without an ounce of selfishness in it.
Jenna, Waitress (via hplyrikz)
I want to be inside your darkest everything.
Frida Kahlo (via thelovejournals)
Take me to your trees. Take me to your breakfasts, your sunsets, your bad dreams, your shoes, your nouns. Take me to your fingers.
Margaret Atwood, In Other Worlds (via thelovejournals)
Wait, I want to say, your hips are more than a hotel, wait for it– your body is a place to stay.
Azra Tabassum, from “Ruin Does Not Look Like You,” Shaking the Trees (via 7-weeks)
Of course, I wonder if they love me back, which is, really, besides the point. I don’t do it to be adored, I do it because my love keeps getting bigger and that’s what happens.
Richard Siken, ‘The Long and Short of It’ (via lordmalak)
Sara June Woods
You are a tiny lake without a hole to sit in. Someday we will marry. Someday our beautiful rain- haired children will play on you while we stand by, blowing into our fists. I could give you a medal. You could be a pony on a beach.
Sara June Woods, from Careful Mountain (via bostonpoetryslam)
What love did then, love does now: Gnaws me through.
Sylvia Plath - from “Dialogue Between Ghost & Priest” in Collected Poems (via watchoutforintellect)
every direction I move has always been, will one day be, once was, and always is toward the precarious cliff of your collarbone.
Jamaal May, from “Love Poem Moving Back and Forth Across Glass,” The Big Book of Exit Strategies (via lifeinpoetry)
Auguste Rodin, Lovers
CHORUS : Why are you so in love with things unbearable?
Sophokles, Elektra (tr. by Anne Carson)
The only time you truly become an adult is when you finally forgive your parents for being just as flawed as everyone else.
Douglas Kennedy, The Pursuit of Happiness (via wnq-writers)
It was the eyes. The secret of love was in the eyes. The way one person looked at another, the way eyes communicated and spoke when the lips never moved.
V.C. Andrews, Flowers in the Attic (via wnq-writers)
The older I grow, the more do I love spring and spring flowers. Is it so with you?
Emily Dickinson, from a letter to Abiah Root, May 16, 1848 (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)
