Lilac Sky

Paris. I write pretty words until I feel okay.

[vivere-militaire-est]

My cat is the love of my life 🐱

[nitrogen]

By Aleix Plademunt

[nitrogen]

By Laurent Champoussin

[nitrogen]

by Joesee

[nitrogen]

I care way too much and I just get hurt I’m so tired

[melisica]

[niccoolleeyy-deactivated2020092]

[vivere-militaire-est]

Is it?

[vivere-militaire-est]

I’m only hilarious because my life is one big joke

[elaurents-blog]

[lines-about-me]

After it happened I spent most my time in the shower. You made me feel dirty, but no matter how hard I scrubbed, how much I bled I couldn't clean up what you did. It was like what happened to me became a part of me and i was reminded by the sharp pains in my chest; the nightmares that shook my body awake; the panic that gave me a permanent tremble; that I wouldn't ever be free from your grasp. I didn't know how to change that. I didn't know how to fix it. I couldn't fix it.

I still can't fix it // p.o.w

[lines-about-me]

The flowers you planted in my garden finally blossomed. Their sweet scent reminds me of the summer nights I would sneak out just to watch the stars when sleep did not come easily. I would track them like a dot-to-dot puzzle, the way you did with your fingers on the back of my neck, following my freckles down my spine and around my waist. I admired the beauty of the night and let it hypnotise me into a dreamy haze until I forgot of reality. I don’t know how long I spent giving myself to the darkness each night but when I returned as the sun met the horizon all I remembered was being and feeling free. As the night time doesn’t know me but only feels my presence, just like you didn’t know me but felt my presence and somehow in the most comforting way, the nights embrace felt a lot like yours.

p.o.w (via lines-about-me)

[lines-about-me]

Today, I finally felt free from the pain that has held me captive for so many years. You were the key to this and I wonder if you always were. You spent days holding my trembling body, wrapping your arms so carefully around my bruised self that I could have built a home in the foundations of your love. My tears stained many of your shirts and I woke you countless times because the thoughts were so loud and you were the only one that could quiet them, even if it was only for a few moments. I often asked why you stayed. I saw the hurt in your eyes when I couldn't meet your family, when I had to leave every social situation we were in. I saw the disgust you had when my  palms were raw red, seeping with my own blood because I was so consumed with guilt and hurt that I'd embed my nails into my skin just so I could feel alive. And sometimes I'd wonder if it was worth it. Being alive. Then I'd look into your eyes and I'd also see the love you had for me. You were gentle even when I wasn't. You stayed, spent days looking through the bars of the prison I had built for myself within my mind, trying to find a way to break me free, telling me I couldn't let my thoughts give me a harsh sentence, I couldn't let my fears be the judge of the rest of my life. You told me over and over that I was my own jury and I could determine my future. You reminded me of my worth in every painful, brutal moment until the moments became only moments. Until I started humming to tunes softly again. Until I began laughing at your dorky jokes again. Until I went back to college. Until I saw the friends I had pushed away for months. Until I met your family. Until I was free. There are days where I find myself back within that cell I had lived in for so many years, confined in the depths of my mind. But you are always there, like a key opening me up to this beautiful and wonderful world.

In many ways you saved me // p.o.w

[lines-about-me]

I thought we could make art together. I thought our love was about creating beautiful things. But you painted purples, reds and blues onto my body and told me I wasn't beautiful enough to be a part of your exhibition.

- I will never be a blank canvas again

[ink-pedia]

[wnq-writers]

your softness is not a mistake. your tenderness makes your love so worth while I don’t mind your sensitivity at all.

realpoetic  (via wnq-writers)

[timbllr]