#wnp

[lowfaith]

At times I just sit with my ache. But I dont romanticise misery either. I just sit with it. I think its a good place to be in..- R

[its-tea-time-darling]

how do you gather motivation to finish/go on with a wip you‘re not motivated for? asking for a friend

[the-gorgeousbadass]

Hearts shattered, hearts broken feelings ineffable, words unspoken. Restless, sleepless, my love where have you been? please take me out of this labyrinth.

N.N Sleepless

[lowfaith]

I came to them empty, like a bar at closing time. No music, no mercy, just chairs turned upside down in my chest.

"I wasn’t empty. I was hungry.” So I say it straight, I was starving.Not for love but for noise, for skin, for proof I still existed. They looked like a meal and I didn’t know how to eat slow. I chewed through their patience, their sleep, their soft way of trusting. “Regret is what happens when desire outlives its excuse.” And I sit there with the wreckage, knowing it, knowing regret because loneliness doesn’t whisper, it commands and some of us follow it like soldiers who only realize what they’ve done after the war is quiet again....- R

[lowfaith]

The Girl Who Was Too Kind to Love Me Properly-

There was this girl

not mine, never mine,

just soft enough to haunt me

and kind enough to keep the wound from healing.

She never chased.

Never asked.

Never begged me to stay.

But just stood there in that quiet way of hers, like a bus stop I kept returning to, even when I knew there were no goddamn buses coming.

I’d vanish for months, crawl into holes, burn myself down to the last nerve, and when I crawled back out, she’d be there with a

hey

or an

I miss you too, and like a fool I’d mistake that for salvation.

Kindness is a dangerous thing for men like me. We take it as a promise. We confuse it with love. We build homes inside it and then complain when the roof leaks.

She never loved me, not the way I needed, not the way a man who keeps breaking needs to be held.

But she never pushed me away either. That’s the trick, you see the women who destroy you aren’t the monsters. They’re the gentle ones. The ones who say take care and mean it.

The ones who let you return without questions, without punishments, without expectations.

Those are the ones who turn your chest into an unfinished room.

And maybe that’s why I keep disappearing. Not because I don’t care.

Hell, I care too much. I care like a drunk grips the bottle even after the glass shatters.

I disappear because if I stay long enough, I’ll hand her the match and ask her to burn me.

And she will. Not out of cruelty. But out of that soft, gentle, thoughtless kindness that never knew how to love a man like me in the first place. —R. somewhere between a train station and a ghost.

[lowfaith]

Whats your love language?

I can roll a ciggaratte for you maybe...

[lowfaith]

Most days I survive on poetry and leftovers one feeds the stomach, the other the madness. -R

[lowfaith]

Been snowing...