r.m

poet | author serendipity volume 1, coming soon. @thebutterflyarchives on instagram

[wnq-writers]

I truly believe there’s a kind of love that only arrives once in your life. You give it your all, and when it’s gone, you can’t ever love someone the same way. -A soul mate.

journalsbyrm (via wnq-writers)

[thebutterflyarchives]

I feel like I’m living in the margins of life. I fight the emptiness and wander what to do with all my time.

[thebutterflyarchives]

In your arms love tastes so sweet but unsure. I hate feeling this way.

[metamorphesque]

— The Lake, Banana Yoshimoto

[text ID: I have my life, I’m living it. It’s twisted, exhausting, uncertain, and full of guilt, but nonetheless, there’s something there.]

[thebutterflyarchives]

I let my mind wander and somehow it always makes its way back to you.

thebutterflyarchives

[thebutterflyarchives]

I've melted in the arms of lovers who didn't know how to love me and ever since then, I've held myself tighter than ever.

thebutterflyarchives

[thebutterflyarchives]

I'm learning to be okay when people go astray.

the butterflyarchives

[thebutterflyarchives]

I am afraid of becoming less beautiful once I am yours, and I am afraid of saying "I love you" when I know you're not guaranteed to stay.

thebutterflyarchives

[thebutterflyarchives]

I am so deeply engulfed in my own soul, how can I possibly expect anyone else to understand me?

thebutterflyarchives

[thebutterflyarchives]

I'd like to laugh with you for the rest of my life.

thebutterflyarchives

[feral-ballad]

Kaveh Akbar, from Calling A Wolf A Wolf: Poems; “Heritage”

[poetic-panipuri-pavilion-deacti]

"She was beautiful poetry in a world that was still learning alphabet."

~ Unknown

[thebutterflyarchives]

I dreamt of us living far away from the city. Near green meadows with brown and white cows, apple trees, and a clear lakeside view. Reminiscing about old times as we sit by the campfire, alone, with just each other tangling together for warmth. I vividly remember the quiet whispers of the trees rustling at night, the water trickling nearby, and the sound of your heartbeats traveling through your chest. I recall your tender embrace and soft brown hair caressing my skin and your lips touching the temples of my cheeks as we counted the stars. If only we had gone to the meadows before we parted ways.

the meadows, journalsbyrm

[thebutterflyarchives]

I could not stop wasting time. It was insane. I don't know what fed this exhausting habit. All I knew was for a little while, all I ever did was go to sleep restless, staring at the ceiling of my bedroom in the dark with some blues tunes playing in the background, shower when I remembered, and drink coffee on the balcony when the sun was lovely. I spent most of my days daydreaming for what seemed like an eternity. Maybe I just didn't have the energy to go back to reality just yet.

how i spent my summer, written on 21/08/17

[kyrptixc]

from @journalsbyrm

[wnq-writers]

there is still so much of you that you haven’t discovered yet.

journalsbyrm (via wnq-writers)

[thebutterflyarchives]