[deathkisses]

Totally on a whim here but anyone in the Colorado Springs area looking for a roommate or would want to be roommates??? I have a cat and am in an abusive situation that i need to get out of asap or get someone to move in with me soon! We can split the payments and all that fun stuff. Can talk more about it privately. Please message me!

[heartofmuse]

There is a melancholic sweetness in having eyes that see too much, eyes of rain that see the heart of night.

e.v.e.

[heartofmuse]

Rain never lasts forever,

Rain it must when it is needed acording to the season,

Sometimes light and spritely,

Sometimes a deluge that erases earth's scars,

Sometimes it must be held by the clouds and not let go as drops.

e.v.e.

[heartofmuse]

Always remember you are free! It is you who holds back the wind. It is you who closes your wings. It is you who refuses to take the step into the blue abyss. Remember you were meant for the sky. Let nothing tie your spirit down with lead chains you helped wrap yourself around. You have always had wings and yours has always been the sky. Remember! Don't be afraid and look up. There is nothing anyone can do if you decide to make the sky your abode, and he is waiting if you are brave enough.

e.v.e.

[r0sebuddy]

[serious]

people are poison

[qvotext]

[perrfectly]

“Even after all this time, The sun never says to the earth, ‘You owe me.’ Look what happens with A love like that. It lights the whole sky.”

— Hafiz of Persia (via perrfectly)

[perrfectly]

“Everyone says love hurts, but that is not true. Loneliness hurts,rejection hurts. Losing someone hurts. Envy hurts. Everyone gets these things confused with love, but in reality love is the only thing in this world that covers up all the pain and makes someone feel wonderful again. Love is the only thing in this world that does not hurt.”

— Liam Neeson - (hatin)

[yearningheart]

ask polly

[hatin]

via weheartit

[extramadness]

[blossomfully]

“Two and a half years later, we sit across from each other. How are you? You ask. Well. I say. What I want to say is: I don’t really know what I’m doing here. Or, rather, you haven’t changed a bit. Or, you look exactly the same as on the day you left. I am stuck between keeping my distance and treating you the way I used to. Letting down my guard completely. It is so easy to slip into. But I could never do it if you didn’t do the same. We swap stories; updates. Everything seems so superficial. I don’t dare ask if these days you are happy. Though, I hope that you are. I tell you that I’m moving to a different city next month. You comment on the different colour of my hair. I don’t tell you that sometimes I still think about the way that you left. That it still colours my relationships; that I still worry that some happinesses are too good to be true. You tell me that your parents are getting divorced. You’ve finally realised that love never lasts. I don’t say anything. I have no evidence to the contrary. Yet, after a while, I say I think you’re wrong. You shrug your shoulders and let it fill the silence. Once, we would have argued for hours. As you stand to leave, I realise that I am no longer in love with you. I no longer know you. You are a stranger in a familiar body. And yet I do not recognise your hands. If you touched me now, I do not know whether it would feel like fire or ice. Maybe both. Maybe neither.”

— Sue Zhao // Meeting somebody you loved after a long time 

[olearypoetry]

[sparkandashes]

[heartofmuse]

Echoes of your love forever reverberate inside my memory and make so many feelings bloom where you planted the seeds of yourself in me.

e.v.e.

[blossomfully]

I stole your word. The word you used to use all the time. I say it now. I slip it into sentences and laugh to myself. It’s a little inside joke. It reminds me of you every time. You were so pompous. I still think it’s funny how a single word can remind you of an entire person. That should fill me with fear. As long as I remember that word, I’ll remember you. But it doesn’t. I say the word, I remember you, and I don’t care.

Sue Zhao // An Ode to Moving On