H

waking up at odd hours, scribbling her thoughts. she/her

[hmwritings]

“No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world. We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race—and the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.”

— Mr. John Keating, from the “Dead Poets Society”

[fairydrowning]

"You are sunlight through a window, which I stand in, warmed."

– Jessie Burton, The Miniaturist

[seonahro]

(holiday break) i’m finally back

[hwhwgwhnwnwbwbwg-deactivated202]

“I swear to you that to think too much is a disease, a real, actual disease.”

-Fyoder Dostoyevsky

[llovelymoonn]

on love as conversation

alice oseman radio silence (via @liriostigre) \ bell hooks

kofi

[remanence-of-love]

[deadcaffeinatedpoets]

august is about borrowed time, it’s about trying to hold onto things so hard but it’s bound to slip out one day or another, it’s about right person and not enough time, it’s about i wish you were mine but i know i need to let you go

[heavyrain-dc]

“You are worth finding. Worth knowing. Worth loving. You and all your one million layers. Always hold that close.”

— Danielle Doby

[happyheidi]

(via)

[carygrantsbeard]

Shut up everyone this is my favorite part of the 10 hours heavy rain sound on windows with thunder sounds

[al3jandr-aa]

me 🥲

[sweet-child-of-night]

when i let my mind unravel, when i step deeper into the abyss, in times of such terrors, I stand gutsy knowing you would be there to assist me.

nocturne, excerpt from my journal

[metamorphesque]

— The Pond, Mary Oliver

[text ID: August of another summer, and / once again / I am drinking the sun / and the lilies again are spread / across the water.]

[odetteden]

i find august to be so beautiful. there are still remains of summer engraved into the wind but in some time the summer breeze will consumed by the coldness yet warmth of autumn’s spirit. autumn leaves will fall down like pieces into place whilst august will slip away like a bottle of wine.

[deviika]

Richard Siken

[seonahro]

“Men have had every advantage of us in telling their own story. Education has been theirs in so much higher a degree; the pen has been in their hands. I will not allow books to prove anything.”

— Jane Austen, Persuasion

[hwhwgwhnwnwbwbwg-deactivated202]

Annotate our favorite book

While I brew the coffee

[muresetivoire]

Messy handwritten letters, bouquets of hand-picked flowers wrapped in brown paper, pastries with haphazard patterns, starless skies, chipped tea cups, coffee stains