Second Chance

Everyone deserves one.

[lizormianillustration]

whatever was left, that was ours for a while.

sunrise - louise glück

LizzieOrmian.redbubble.com

[perfectquote]

“Some say I’m too sensitive but the truth is I just feel too much. Every word, every action and every energy goes straight to my heart.”

— Nofacewrites

[letsttrythisagain]

[letsttrythisagain]

“When recovery is not all yoga mats, tea, and avocado’s, it is work. It is reminding myself that sucking on ice cubes does not count as dinner. Body, forgive me. It is not healthy to drink so much water, your body becomes a bath tub your organs float in like loofas. Body, forgive me. Trying to ignore the caloric calculator in my head is like trying to ignore television subtitles and sometimes I just can’t. Body, forgive me.”

— Blythe Baird (via captainhelloimbeautifullymade)

[feral-ballad]

Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak; “Eat”

[Text ID: “I am trying to stop doing / things that don’t make any sense. Body, / forgive me. I am trying. I am trying. I am still trying.]

[ritikajyala]

There'll be a moment when you realise you're 27 when yesterday you were just 17; and you wouldn't be able to tell how a decade passed away and your life got divided into before and afters. The fury of youth will subdue and nothing will really change but everything will feel different when you look at old photographs and blurry videos taken on cheap mobile phones. Scents will remind you of childhood and certain friends you don't talk to anymore, hangouts will become reunions and mom's burnt pie will become the best food you ever had. And I know on some days you won't be able to show anything of those 10 years but I hope you remember to breathe, and let go of the knot in your chest. I hope you go out in the sun and live a little, because tomorrow is 37.

Edit- I added the visualizer for this piece on my YT, check it out here

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned

[letsttrythisagain]

Some nights

Somenight I wonder if you ever fall asleep. My head touches your chest and my eyes fall heavy but you, somehow you always pull me closer, brush my hair back, run your fingers down my back.. and I can’t tell if you do these things naturally or if you don’t sleep when your next to me.

When I wake up, your arms are still holding me but your eyes are closed and your breathing is slow and I wonder who will be lucky enough to wake up next to that every morning.

[letsttrythisagain]

CONT. 

Life has a way of answering the hard questions, of giving the hard truths. Time shines a light on that which we could have never predicted but you, somehow you always tried to pull me back. If by force or by cunning, run your fingers across my chin and strike it blue. I can not tell if you do these things naturally or if you don’t know how to love when you’re next to me.

When the morose in me fades and ignites a fire, you will try to hold me again and your eyes will be deep and full of discrete, your breathing too slow and I wonder who it is that will wake up next to that every morning.

because it won’t be me. I promised myself that it won’t ever be me.  

[tylerknott]

You aren’t what you were, so stop punishing yourself for what you have done.

Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)

[throughtheeyesofmyself]

[sunsetquotes]

“…you can hate a place with all your heart and soul and still be homesick for it.”

— Joseph Mitchell

[buttonpoetry]

“The first time a man I loved held me by the wrists and called me a whore, I did not think, ‘Run.’ I thought, ‘This is just like the movies.’”

— Brenna Twohy, from Swallowtail 

[letsttrythisagain]

I

[olearypoetry]

[stephenstilwell-deactivated2021]

“Your face is the same, but I no longer recognize who you are.”

— s.s. (stephenstilwell)

[lorifornia]

He said I was perfect and that’s how wrong he got it.

Perfect he said while he traced my face with his finger.

Perfect he said while he kissed down my spine.

And I didn’t say anything because when a child finds a piece of glass and mistakes it for a diamond, you don’t ruin the afternoon with things as harsh as the truth.

[im-a-juvenile]

[buttonpoetry]

“We know the Pythagorean theorem by heart, but short-circuit when anyone asks us, ‘How are you?’ We don’t know. We don’t know. That wasn’t on the study guide.”

— Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak

[letsttrythisagain]

Do not try to kiss me with purple lipstick still leaving the ghostly outline of her on your lips and on your neck. I would never leave you broken and bruised but I have no sympathy for you.