passionately express

aren't we all just searching

[wetheurban]

Black Woman Illustrations by Ben Biyayenda

17 year-old artist Ben Biyayenda’s young body of work is our new obsession! His vibrant illustrations explore sex-positive images of black bodies and unity between women. 

Instagram.com/WeTheUrban

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[wordsnquotes]

I am homesick for a place I am not sure even exists. One where my heart is full. My body loved. And my soul understood.

Melissa Cox (via wordsnquotes)

[jennibarksdale]

Burn the hope out

A feral beast I am Here to take a stand From you and your antics Speaking on my love as if it were just politics That I don't have a say in how I feel A vote To justify If I can love Hate The one who took my heart By no punishment for you No None. As you continue to rape hearts Beat souls And burn hope You get away with murder One victim at a time Turn them into you To turn them away, Leading them astray Down that dark alley You painted for me We are all lost wandering A hopeless speck Floating through the darkness as you continue to search from light All of us lost and wandering But we were the light all along Until you put us out.

[jennibarksdale]

There's something comforting in sharing your secrets with a stranger.

[indieultra-blog]

[jennibarksdale]

I text you all the time, only to erase my message as you’ve erased me from your heart.

Too bad I was written in sharpie bitch.

[eearth-deactivated20180601]

Being present with another person is such a spiritual experience, so intimate and visceral, so healing and warm. Even the most mundane interactions become profound when we lay down the armor of our preconditioned roles and let ourselves flow truthfully into the moment.

[ireth-alcarin]

[jennibarksdale]

I think Opa had a little van gogh in him.

No, he did not eat yellow paint to my knowledge..

But the walls....

textured sunshine yellow. No, daffodil.

a yellow warmer than the sun.

although I never ate it

it tasted like your favorite drink on a perfect summers day.

not the hot sweaty summers

but the crisp cool summers as the sun begins to rise

cutting through the dew that

dances across every grass blade.

lady bugs milling about as if they’ve been up for hours.

liquid flowing down your pipe

quenching the very thirst that 

last nights dreams of your own world 

left your parched with.

yes yellow.

the yellow that brings light to my soul

knowing that he is still and will always be

beside me. laughing 

embarrassing

and whispering in my ear 

to love

to live

to make mistakes

and enjoy the very present moment.

Opa. My yellow summers drink. 

[lodova]

The Beginning

[goodreadss]

It is damned difficult not to feel anything.

 Vincent van Gogh, from The Complete Letters (via goodreadss)

[jennibarksdale]

[jennibarksdale]

[jennibarksdale]

not you

when I began to write

she looked at me

puzzled.

then with venom in her eyes

spat “are you just going to write all day.

four words looked up at me from the page

“there is but one”...

[jennibarksdale]

your name is the strongest positive and negative  connotation in any language it either lights me up or leaves me aching for days

rupi kaur

[jennibarksdale]

the woman who comes after me will be a bootleg version of who i am. she will try and write poems for you to erase the ones i've left memorized on your lips but her lines could never punch you in the stomach the way mine did. she will then try to make love to your body. but she will never lick, caress, or suck you like me. she will be a sad replacement of the woman you let slip. nothing she does will excite you and this will break her. when she is tired of falling apart for a man that doesn't give back what he takes she will recognize me in your eyelids staring at her with pity and it'll hit her. how can she love a man who is busy loving someone he can never get his hands on agian.

rupi kaur

[olearypoetry]