[books-n-quotes]

“Because when something happens, she’s the person I want to tell. The most basic indicator of love.” — David Levithan, Every Day

[theclassyissue]

[dangered]

[ramenticc]

i miss travelling

[ramenticc]

I travelled...

[aidashakur]

[ramenticc]

beautiful to pick up where we left off

[jinxproof]

[jinxproof]

Jean-Michel Basquiat + Madonna, 1982

© Stephen Torton

[mutersk]

[ramenticc]

i was talking to my brother one evening and i expressed my frustration with getting myself motivated enough to start putting her stuff away. i told him about the knives i found that i had to hide and how it put a screaching halt to everything i was doing. i looked down at those knives and everything came back to me. he said, “she’ll never know, realize or even care how much of an emotional toll it is to put her stuff away” he offered to help, and i am thankful for that, but i have to do this myself. my emotions catch me off guard sometimes. i often believe that ill be able to come face to face with certain things and that i wont be phased. but im learning that my trauma is still present and its okay... its better to be self aware wouldnt you agree? id like to get back to the version of me that overcame anxiety. baby steps.

[ramenticc]

you deserve so much better

<3

[ramenticc]

miles away and not a thought in your head

of the days and nights that ive dread

of putting your stuff in boxes

you sit pretty with your pretty new things

pretty new life, with your pretty, new lady

meanwhile, i dont know where ur other sock is

and this sharpie smells toxic

lucky for you, you had a clean break

the last time i saw you face to face

i didnt know it’d be the last embrace

my tears dont fall nearly as often

and while your off and

having fun

maybe one day you’ll remember the person who put your stuff in boxes.

[itsmydcision]

“ spend it wisely “

[mobpsycho100]

[dangered]

[ramenticc]

i miss travelling

[onlytwitterpics]

[furples]

Berg Grotto

[lifeinpoetry]

These are the late poems. Most poems are late of course: too late, like a letter sent by a sailor that arrives after he’s drowned.

— Margaret Atwood, from “Late Poems,” Dearly

[themaiajae]