Andrea Gibson, The Madness Vase
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Andrea Gibson, The Madness Vase
I’ve been sitting here thinking about all the things I wanted to apologize to you for. All the pain we caused each other, everything I put on you - everything I needed you to be or needed you to say. I’m sorry for that. I will always love you because we grew up together. And you helped make me who I am. I just wanted you to know there will be a piece of you in me always, and I’m grateful for that. Whatever someone you become, and wherever you are in the world, I’m sending you love. You’re my friend til the end.
Her (2013)
“You know how when you’re in a car and it’s pouring down rain, you go under a bridge and everything stops. Everything goes silent and it’s almost peaceful. Then you finally get from under the bridge, and everything hits you a little harder than before. You were my bridge.”
— Anonymous (via lavenderrd)
-you told me you would never say you loved me again.
extrasad’s just made it into a different format I guess idk
-please come back
“I think someday you’re going to be a great writer,” he said. “But” he added maliciously, “first you’ll have to suffer a bit. I mean really suffer, because you don’t know what the word means yet. You only think you’ve suffered. You’ve got to fall in love first.”
— Henry Miller, Tropic of Capricorn (via honeyforthehomeless)
“I’m planning the funeral before either of us even curl up under the dirt in your backyard and let grass grow from the cracks in our lips and you’re in my bedroom and you love me and I’m marking down the days on my calendar till you don’t I should be so happy but I’ve been bleeding in advance I’ve always been one to plan ahead so I’ve got our heartbreak playing out in my head and I can feel it in my stomach like it’s already happened ten times over”
—
To be attached (via
extrasad
)
“I learned in psychology class that red makes time appear to go by slower. It makes us highly aware of our environment, thus time seems to slow down because we start paying more attention to the little things around us. So when I learned you had to leave in a month, I started wearing red. I wore red dresses and bought you red shirts and kissed you with lips the color of strawberries. I told you it was my favorite color. You bought me red flowers which were accepted by hands with red nails and I tried to make jokes as much as possible, because I liked the shade your face turned when you laughed too hard. In my sick, twisted, romance ridden mind, I swore this had some sort of effect on us. I knew our time was limited, so I did whatever I could to give us just a few more seconds together. One thing they didn’t teach us in psychology, was what color made time go by faster. So when you left, I painted my walls blue and wore blue skirts and thought that maybe if I had blue curtains, everything would hurt a little less, but the time while you were gone didn’t go by any quicker. So I bought a yellow rug, and picked daffodils for my kitchen table, and thought that maybe if I wore yellow scarves, I wouldn’t feel like I was choking every time I heard your name, but the time while you were gone didn’t go by any quicker. So, finally, I picked up a pair of green sunglasses, and gloves the color of clover, and I bought seeds and shovels and flower pots because somehow, I had convinced myself that when spring came, I would absorb myself into gardening and that somehow plants would make me feel more full. But spring came and went and the time while you were gone didn’t go by any quicker. It has taken me almost half a year, but I think I’ve finally realized that I can’t just rely on one color. I need all of them. I need the blue of your eyes and the raspberry shade of your lips. I need the white of your teeth and the charcoal of your hair. I need the color you get when you spend too much time in the sun and the shade you turn when you get slightly seasick. I need you here because no matter what I do, my world has lost all color without you.”
—
Please Come Back. I Am Sick of Black and White.
//SidewaySerenade//
(via sidewayserenade)
“Is it selfish to say I want you the whole fucking time? I want you in my head. I want you in my bed. I want your hands all over my thighs. Give me your tightest grip. I want to exhale all of my loneliness and sadness to you. I want to breathe you in. I want you. I want you and I want you to want me too.”
xx
“I’ve taken up drugs the way you’ve taken up every inch of my head and I’ve taken up drugs the way you’ve taken up slurring her name in your sleep. If my veins are fucked up and filled with something I bought on the street in the middle of the night then maybe it won’t be so bad when I start bleeding again. If I’m gone, you’re not. If I’m not trapped between my own bones maybe I won’t be trapped under your fingertips constantly pressing against me with the poison of missing you etched under your fingernails like dirt. I’ve taken up drugs the way you’ve taken up missing my calls. And if I’m too fucked to remember your number, maybe it won’t hurt as much when you don’t answer.”
— “I’ve taken up drugs instead of dealing with the fact that she left me” (via extrasad)
“My mother and father fell out of love. It took six years for them to rot. It was slow. It snuck up on them through extra sips of wine at dinner and spaces between them in bed. It was quiet, it whispered in their ears and snuck into their heads and hid between busy thoughts, they barely noticed but it chipped away at them until they crumbled into empty shells that couldn’t stand to look at each other. They never fought. They kissed each other sometimes, but never at the right times, never like they meant it. I think when the water rises so slowly and silently and wraps itself around you in the form of routine and comfort and the fear of leaving, you don’t really realize you’re completely submerged until you look at yourself in the mirror one day and you’re dripping wet and you can’t breathe at all but you’re used to holding your breath by now. It didn’t hurt. At the end of it they were gone. They were ghosts. I don’t know if they could even feel it. It wasn’t this killer, movie-scene, hollywood heartbreak, just a dull ache that could be drowned out if you just pretend it isn’t there. So when you were mine in the morning and a fucking hole in my chest three hours later it swallowed me whole. I didn’t know it could happen so quickly, a lighting bolt of heartbreak, there was no thunder to warn us. One second I was yours and the next I was on the floor and I could smell my skin burning.”
— I thought we had more time, I wanted to rot with you. (via extrasad)
“i asked pluto about you and me, how we end up in the end. and Pluto said, “together.” and I asked, “forever?” but then Pluto wasn’t a planet, and i slept on the roof to be closer to her, but she didn’t talk to me anymore. i’m praying for a comet to hit us before I know the answer.”
— i. HEARTS (achebreak)
“When the light turns green, you go. When the light turns red, you stop. But what do you do when the light turns blue with orange and lavender spots?”
– Shel Silverstein
“You don’t have to explain your dreams. They belong to you.”
— Paulo Coelho (via naturaekos)
“Art is a wound turned into light.”
— Georges Braque (via wnq-art)