words for heartstrings

words that leave you breathless

[literaturequotesblog]

—Frida Kahlo

[primarity]

[thoughtkick]

“How wonderful it is, to be silent with someone.”

— Kurt Tucholsky

[weltenwellen]

Vladimir Nabokov, Letters to Véra

[tolerateit]

everyone in this room will someday be dead - emily austin

[weltenwellen]

Wale Ayinla, from “Portrait of a Boy with Grief”

[heartcountry]

i knew i wasn’t gonna find you so i gave up the dream           and even though once, i thought i finally came close, i didn’t let the dream come back. you were best forgotten and  anyway,              i needed more room for the possible. i tried to laugh often and fill up the space around me so i wouldn’t notice what wasn’t there             (any room you’re not in is empty as far as i’m concerned) but after a dream dies, there’s also the burial (and the haunting) and           so a part of me was still waiting. i could feel it trying to bring me back to the impossibility of you but i couldn’t let that happen. and i promise not that long ago your arrival was a truth i believed in but every room i walked into was empty and    you took your time and the shadows in my heart got bigger and bigger and then eventually they were all that was left. if i’m honest a part of me still hoped that maybe i was wrong and you were out there after all and maybe you were writing about the shadows, too                 but i inherited the homesick hearts of three generations of women who waited for something that almost belonged to them but never did                   and i couldn’t hold on to that. if i’ve failed you i’m sorry, but if i’m right about this you’re already on your way home to                      someone else. so i’m saying this here, now, so that i can let go. I forgive you for not knowing the way to me. I forgive every map that led you to a room i’d never walk into. I forgive you for every arrival somewhere else.

Y.Z, an honest letter to a forgotten dream  (via heartcountry)

[oxymoron0-o]

I wanted to tell her that I was getting better, because that was supposed to be the narrative of illness: It was a hurdle you jumped over, or a battle you won. Illness is a story told in the past tense.

Turtles All the Way Down by John Green (via oxymoron0-o)

[oxymoron0-o]

You’re both the fire and the water that extinguishes it. You’re the narrator, the protagonist, and the sidekick. You’re the storyteller and the story told. You are somebody’s something, but you are also your you.

Turtles All the Way Down by John Green (via oxymoron0-o)

[ghostsstudypoetry]

Childhood dotted with bodies.Let them go, let them be ghosts.“No,” I said, “make them stay, make them stone.”

Gregory Orr,

from “Origin of the Marble Forest” (via

ghoststudiesstuff

)

[bloomflowersbloom]

my energy is not for consumption I will not let people drain me

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Peaceful moon. I consist only of bones.

Franz Kafka, from a diary entry featured in “The Diaries of Franz Kafka: 1910-1923” (via kafkaesque-world)

[likeafieldmouse-deactivated2015]

He who dares not grasp the thorn should never crave the rose.

Anne Bronte, The Narrow Way  (via 13thmoon)

[glowingangel]

i am not a hotel room i am home i am not the whiskey you want i am the water you need don’t come here with expectations and try to make a vacation out of me.

Milk and Honey, Rupi Kaur (via glowingangel)

[pemberlaey]

[bunlly]

I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, Kiss me harder, and You’re a good person, and, You brighten my day. I live my life as straight-forward as possible. Because one day, I might get hit by a bus. Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands. But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate. And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care. We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans. We never know when the bus is coming.

Rachel C. Lewis (via lazypacific)

[wordsnquotes]

Give people time. Give people space. Don’t beg anyone to stay. Let them roam. What’s meant for you will always be yours.

Reyna Biddy  (via wordsnquotes)