Janaina Medeiros
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Origami Around
shark vs the universe
d e v o n
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Game of Thrones Daily
JVL
Sade Olutola
One Nice Bug Per Day
we're not kids anymore.
Love Begins
Cosimo Galluzzi
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Three Goblin Art
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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Xuebing Du
Misplaced Lens Cap
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@krispxdays
You’re not the boy I fell in love with anymore, and I’ve learnt to be okay with that. We crashed and burned like two meteorites colliding; but we sure were beautiful while we lasted. (An excerpt from a letter I’ll never send.)
yeahlilay (via wordsnquotes)
#797272
Radiohead - Reckoner - In Rainbows
let me tell you something: no one is going to look at you, broken and shattered and think - damn, you are beautiful. no one is going to come pick up your broken pieces off the floor and assemble them into a beautiful whole. hell, you won’t even look at yourself and think - I made broken look beautiful. you know why? because all those writers lied to you. yes, all those with their poems of scraped knuckles and blood dripping down chins, pomegranate songs and loves that ripped through you like hurricanes. liars. so you and i, we are going to make a plan. you are not going to romanticize days when your brain tells you to smash that mirror, you are not going to romanticize the lover who doesn’t understand you but still writes about you. here is what you are going to romanticize instead: you are going to romanticize the first day of spring, its gentle hands all over your body, lifting you up until you are as light as a feather. you are going to romanticize the tea and honey kind of love, no hurricanes, but sunshine that builds you up from within, that helps you make it through the worst days. you are going to romanticize gentle hands of a friend in yours, telling you that it is going to be okay. because it is. and don’t trust poets, we’re no good, we love pretending that our jagged edges tantamount to a beautiful disaster, but in reality - there ain’t nothing beautiful about shaky hands holding a cigarette and empty eyes staring at the cracks in the walls. you know what is beautiful, instead? the days when you can look at yourself in the mirror and smile, scars and all. music that makes your soul flow like a river, books that offer comfort, families flocking together like overgrown birds to keep you safe and warm, friends that give you strength when you can find none, lovers who make you laugh through tears. baby, from now on you are going to romanticize healing; honey dripping down your fingertips, August nights that stick to your skin, the day you find your purpose, long car rides and singing so loud that no one can shut you up now. bad news: no one is coming to save you. good news: you can save yourself.
Lana Rafaela (via thesocietyofpoets)
I guess I’ll never know if I wasn’t enough or if I was too much.
There is nothing rational about love. Love stutters when it gets nervous, love trips over its own shoelaces. Love is clumsy, and my heart refuses to wear a helmet.
Rudy Francisco, “Scars/To the New Boyfriend” (via thelovejournals)
Darling, you are already a garden of wildflowers– blooming and sprawling everywhere. Don’t let him define you— by a couple of roses that he randomly plants here and there.
Mansi (via wordsnquotes)
I want your Monday morning sleep soaked eyes, dream drenched voice, lazy bones ‘five more minutes please babe.’ I want your Tuesday afternoon stretching break, glasses off, laughter on, ‘just hold me for a while, it’s been a hard day.’ I want your Wednesday evening fingers through you hair, teeth biting nails, neck extended, eye glazing, ‘this paperwork never ends’ I want your Thursday night wine for two, bones unbind, muscles let loose, flats, slacks, ‘just me and you’ I want your finally Friday full soul smile, sun sipping light from the glaciers in your eyes, fingers unfurl, hand extends, ‘come on babe, lets go wild’ I want your weekend, your movie marathon Saturday, reading by the fireplace, making love in the blankets I want your Sunday morning orange juice and cereal with blueberries, white sheets, tender skin, hair so friendly it’s standing up waving, ‘let’s not get out of bed today.’ I want your ordinary and your stress, rest, release I want your bad day and that terrible night I want you drunk in my arms forgetting the place but never my name I want your lazy and your lonely and your fist full of fight I want you everyday in every way for the rest of my life. I want forever as partners, husband and wife. I want our love to always come first. I’m yours on bended knees.
mardybryant (via wnq-writers)
