lefthanded, overthinker, ink stained fingers

L | 20s | she/her | 🏳️‍🌈 “Oh, how I love a good story!”

[writeswithink]

[writeswithink]

— unknown

[writeswithink]

How have I only read this just now?

[shakespearesdaughters]

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— Enzo Silon Surin

[shakespearesdaughters]

[velartis]

Franz Kafka, 1912

[sadmates]

I am not meant for casual love. I was born for soul consuming love and obsession.

[woundsoflove]

Let your soul crave the kind of love that makes you feel everything—fiercely and without regret.

[writeswithink]

— young poet’s department

[weltenwellen]

Hala Alyan, Salt Houses

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— Mary Kate Teske

[vexheart]

[writeswithink]

staggering, limping, down the old cobblestone street, breath warm, hands cold, he walks on unsteady feet,

he does not remember the pain nor the cold, however may feel the heart he once sold? a heart of glass, once filled with love, now gapes like a wound left untended,

how could such heartbreak ever be mended?

with uneven breaths, he tumbles along, drunkenly humming her favourite song,

but thus, she was never to hear it again, for she’d moved on, and so he drank and drank, killing every last butterfly left in his stomach, until there was nothing — nothing, but haze,

his reflection in a shard of glass; he sees but a stranger with a drunken gaze.

[weltenwellen]

Hanif Abdurraqib, A Little Devil in America: Notes in Praise of Black Performance

[weltenwellen]

Virginia Woolf, 15th of October 1927, Diaries

[strokeofserenity]

M.L.Rio, “If We Were Villains.”

[weltenwellen]

Danez Smith, Don't Call Us Dead