let me tell you something: no one is going to look at you, broken and shattered and think – damn, you are beautiful. no one is going to come pick up your broken pieces off the floor and assemble them into a beautiful whole. hell, you won’t even look at yourself and think – I …
Tag Archives: poetic
I know sometimes all you do is survive and that may not seem enough but I am thankful for that , sometimes all you tell yourself is to keep it together a little longer The bags under your eyes tell me about the lonely nights you survived How many times did you convince yourself that …
I want to apologize to myself for constantly submerging in a state of panic, for allowing myself to self-destruct for so many years. There is a person inside of me who deserves kindness. Brianna Pastor, Stop Chasing Ghosts (via wnq-writers)
We are two wandering mortals walking the Earth freely. You were on a forest trail and I was amidst the ocean. All you can hear was the ballad of soaring birds and all I can see was the vivid of drowning waters. We are never lost, but we wanted to be found. I know the …
Pay attention to whom your energy increases and decreases around, because that’s the universe giving you a hint of who you should embrace or stray from. (via alunit)
Deep in my heart I know I am a loner. I have tried to blend in with the world and be sociable, but the more people I meet the more disappointed I am. So, I’ve learned to enjoy myself, my family, and a few good friends. Steven Aitchison (via elved)
When I saw you, I knew I was going to love you. Parts of me were afraid, Tentative, Hesitant. But never resistant. The rest of me breathed you in Deeply And sighed with relief. The rest of me thought, “Finally.” When I kissed you, I thought, “Maybe God IS real.” Because your skin made me …
The angels came down to earth in a rowdy, exultant flurry, chattering in ten languages and dripping gold from their fingertips and half-parted mouths. At first they were awe inspiring, ethereal, untouchable and radiant. But the longer they stayed, the more they became pests. They ate my peanut butter sandwiches and spilled crumbs everywhere, borrowed …
Fantasy is for those of us who refuse to limit our reality. nikki-watteru (via wnq-writers)
She tastes like nectar and salt. Nectar and salt and apples. Pollen and stars and hinges. She tastes like fairy tales. Swan maiden at midnight. Cream on the tip of a fox’s tongue. She tastes like hope. Laini Taylor, Daughter of Smoke and Bones (via 69honeybeez1)