Love yourself so no one has to. @jessy-rae - Tumblr Blog

You want to love him in a way in a way that didn’t hurt & now you know that isn’t love at all. sometimes, you still want it. Meanwhile, all the blue in the world is burning, even if you won’t look at it.

— Yves Olade, from “Something I’d Lie About,“ published in Kingdoms in the Wild

deadwatered

“You said you would call me and I thought, drunk calling—that’s a little cliche, it’s what everyone writes about, sings about and dreams of. It’s when feelings leak out, it’s when truths are told, it could make or break us—whatever we are. You told me things while I called you mentiroso, liar, liar, telling tall tales, crying wolf, whispering how I’m a priority, I’m your favorite girl and you missed me so much. You miss me and you can’t wait to see me, like you aren’t going to break me (again). And I bite my tongue because this is the first time I’ve heard your voice in months and all I can say is ‘yeah, yeah’ and wave you off but you won’t let me forget, how you’re going to kiss me when you see me, and you want your body always near me, and I soak up your words like I’m tanning in the sun, because I want them to be true. (You wouldn’t lie to me would you?)”

—

shitiunderline

I make you pancakes, I take you hunting, I talk to you as if you’re really there.

Richard Siken, “Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out,” from Crush (via shitiunderline)

ofgeography

“I want to touch you so badly I don’t know how to even reach out. I’ll never know how to say it: how sunk I am in this love for you, how salty, how sweet.”

— Cristin O’Keefe Aptowicz, from “October,” The Year of No Mistakes (via mortalpractice)

metaphorformetaphor

And when I see pairs of young lovers, vertically entwined on street corners, or horizontally entwined on a blanket in the park, the main feeling it arouses in me is a kind of protectiveness. No, not pity: protectiveness. Not that they would want my protection. And yet – and this is curious – the more bravado they show in their behaviour, the stronger my response. I want to protect them from what the world is probably going to do to them, and from what they will probably do to one another. But of course, this isn’t possible. My care is not required, and their confidence insane.

Julian Barnes, from The Only Story (Vintage Digital, 2018)

rawenis-deactivated20180706

for wheat is wheat, even if people think it is a grass in the beginning — Vincent van Gogh

adirabennett

loonarenes

Suran - Walkin’ [Docu-Film]

sicknare

fukkce

nothing is worse than having to detach from someone who has seen all of you

thecommonchick

Can we skip to the part where I’m wearing my husbands tshirt flipping pancakes in a pretty house with a good job and two big dogs

cgcpoems

30/30, by Caitlin Conlon

i lay naked in your bed, unpeeling my heart like an orange. it’s early. the light against curtain casts us in ethereal glow. you’re submerged in rem and for this i’m grateful; only in dreams does the worry leave your forehead, ironed away by invisible hand. we become so delicate in our vulnerability.

my fingers strip the skin and toss it behind the headboard, past the shelf where our glasses sit side by side glittering in dust motes. i’ve been idly picking at myself for at least an hour, desperate for proof that there is still something sweet underneath all of my rind. i’ll split the fruit with you once you wake, but for now it’s just me and the thought of you: sticky hands, good intentions.

one of these days i’ll be brave enough to hand you everything. i’ll extract the affection out of my chest cavity and nudge it into yours. until then – i’ll write you this poem. leave it tucked underneath this gray pillow. wrap my arms around your torso and allow the comfort of your presence to lull me back into contentment.

cgcpoems

finally getting my theme back in order after napowrimo hell — this is a quote from my chapbook, Cavity, which you can find at the link in my bio!💙

hazyaffection

“She wanted to write something good about this. You are the best part of her life, after all. You deserve it. But she choked on the part where you’re supposed to love her: she can’t really write it without sounding like a liar. So she went back, desperate for profs, insisting, insisting, insisting. But all she found was hazy memories and second hand affections, slipped between the not replied text messages and how you act so cold. Had you loved her, you wouldn’t treat her like this. And I swear she wanted to write you a happy little thing but all she had was: THEY SAID: “HE DOESN’T EVEN DO ANYTHING SPECIAL TO HER YET LOOK AT HOW SHE DESTROY HERSELF WHEN HE LEFT. HE DOESN’T EVEN LOVE HER.” SHE COULD ONLY SAY: “I KNOW. I KNOW. I KNOW.””

— in my defense part. 1

deadwatered

“it was summer and I should’ve been happy but I couldn’t stop about how you left me. you had ripped me out at the root, took my petals with you too. crying almost every night soaked my pillow slip like ocean spray. then I went to the actual ocean and wondered if like the one poet I’d go, rocks in my pocket and sink to the bottom. I wondered if the currents would lead me back to you—I found my religion in you. I didn’t think I would be able to blossom again. then you came back.

can you love someone with your whole heart if all they do is break you? that was the question I asked myself when fall arrived. when we parted ways only to find each other again. I got lost in your rhythm and I couldn’t find myself. you told me about other girls and I got choked up. I started talking to someone new but he didn’t feel like you, he didn’t taste like you. I almost called him your name too many times, so I cut the ties, but I held onto you.

winter is when I heard your voice for the first time in a long time and it felt like heaven. you drunk called me and we talked about how I was your favorite girl. I wanted to ask if you would leave again, but I fell silent. I didn’t truly want to know the answer—I didn’t know what I would’ve done if my heart left one more time. you came home and then left your ghost in my bedroom. I only got a glimpse of the half of myself that you took with you the first time you left. I didn’t miss her anymore.

it is spring and I realize I’ll always love you. how can I unlearn the soft hands that touched me like I was made of glass? how can I separate myself from the mirror? how can I ignore the lighting that brings me awake? forgive me for not loving you loud enough, it’s my mistake. you are my spring. a new beginning and the courage to continue.”