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About: I have been breathing three and twenty years, and still, I am a fledgling. I count, here, on my fingertips the things that I think beautiful, or touching, or important, or frivolous, or any manner that matters in the slightest. I draw, dream, write, cry, laugh and fumble, and fall, and try to get up. I am a collection of memories that some people call a soul.
“it is hard. there will be droughts but you will have months of water stored from all the surging waterfalls in your heart. he will love you, you will love him; even when the butterflies are quiet, even when you feel alone in the home you made in his chest. hold on. you will find each other again. it is still love. there will be days it does not take your breath away, do not worry. you are human. it is still beautiful. it is only growing.
do not stay upset for long. remember you love him. remember he loves you. remember he makes mistakes. and when he says he’s sorry, he means it. let him say he’s sorry. forgive him.
the creak of floorboards are whispers.
you are a bird, a tree without roots, a cold morning, no wonder it is him you’ve fallen towards.
do not settle for less than a phone call when you’re upset. always tell him the truth. never be ashamed of your sadness. let him validate your feelings when he tries to.
listen to him. he may not always tell you how his heart looks. he may not be able to easily talk through his fathers cancer. ask him, be patient.
build a home in your arms and welcome him, always. he is a man but he is also a boy. don’t let either of them stay out in the cold. chances are, they both need to cry.
this is not about you. this has never been about you. let him love you but love him even when he forgets. love him when he breaks a promise. love him when he asks for forgiveness.
do not settle. love someone wholly. find a canyon, a mountain range, an impossible 2pm sunset. find a constellation, find a day where the sun never sets.
you will find him in everything. he will be 600 miles away and you’ll find the color of his eyes or the way he laughs and it’ll come like the wind; brief and full and your eyes might water and your heart might sing a foggy echo but let it. it is only fair.
he will be 600 miles away and you will feel like an attic, like a broken tea cup, like a whole lot of empty, of nothing, that can’t ever be filled.
it is okay. you are okay. you love and you love deeply. you will be okay.
drink coffee on slow mornings and think of his hands.
think of the first time he traced your palm with his fingertips and it was as if you were nothing but morning light and shifting dust. think of his smile, think of his laugh, think of his steady chest beneath your sleepy eyes. you won’t ever find a place so right than beside him. but you, too, must know, though you will not always be home.
you will always find it again.”
—things i have learned about love (via heeavyboots)

(via backshelfpoet)

pinkelephantsonparadeee:

hhesitance:

seraphica:

Gulliver’s First Trip to the Beach

IM IN LOOOOOOVE

Da baaaaabbyyyyy

(via aseriesofnouns)

“I’ll be waiting here
across the deep dark waters
for you to swim home.”
Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)

(via tylerknott)

Never Apologize For Being Anything But You

backshelfpoet:

Never apologize for being anything but you.

Trust me; I’ve spent a lot of time under girls’ skin, under girls’ sheets, under girls’ bodies, legs heavy and heart beating fast. I’ve spent a lot of time wishing they could be fucking someone a little better than me. I’ve spent a lot of time sucking…

I feel you, bubbles.

I feel you, bubbles.

(Source: couragethecowardly-blog, via missiku)

cross-connect:

Beautiful illustrations by japanese illustrator Tae

(Source: cross-connect, via vincecarters)

“When I was young, I used to have this thing where I wanted to see everything. I used to think, ‘How can I die without seeing every inch of this world?” —Leonardo DiCaprio (via feellng)

(via bisousatrinite)

thisfeliciaday:

I’m like an old lady I can’t help but share the baybeez!

(Source: please-promise-youll-remember-me, via dannielle)

It’s been a while. I miss you.

I’m forgetting your voice and I’m going nuts trying to remember you just saying my name.

Remember that time you woke me up and made me tea? I wish we were fighting over the comics in the paper again.

I still have trouble with math. You made it all make sense.

It’s midnight and I’m thinking of your lips against mine while you’re probably fucking her.

I don’t like going to the places you took me anymore. They remind me of you.

You still have my movies but you can keep them.

I saw you today. You looked so happy and I’m glad that she does that for you.

—texts I never sent to you (via synthetic-synaesthesia)

(Source: ghohst, via 472239364)

“I lost myself for you. I dug my ribs out of my own
chest and planted them around your house.
I pulled my intestines out, inch by inch, and wrapped them
around like Christmas lights in the tree in your front yard.
They told me that love was being beautiful for someone,
being ugly for someone, being better for someone -
they never told me that it meant being me, so
I lost myself. I do not mean to be gruesome
when I talk about how I loved you -
but this was all I knew. I only
knew how to be a vulture, standing
over my own rotting carcass on the side of the rode,
picking myself apart.
Savagely tearing my own body out of the turkey
on Christmas Day,
making a wish over myself, I ripped my wishbone body in two.
I wished that you would love me forever. I lost myself for you.
When you did not love me forever,
I did not know what to do with my remains.
I am a better ghost, now. I never knew how to be human.
I never knew how to not give myself away.”
Amanda Helm, Vulture (via amandaspoetry)

(via backshelfpoet)

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