thepocketmouse:

It was the summer of

salt water and

honey.

You were picking thorns

from your palms

and I

was coughing up words

stitched together

by a spider’s thread.

At night,

we listened to

Spanish guitar and

watched the stars.

I asked you

why the sky was littered

with diamonds.

I asked you

if your God was a jeweler.

Where I live,

the streets are littered

The people are littered

and God is a bee keeper.

- Lana Maric, Evening Primrose

“If you’re happy in a dream, does that count?” by Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things (via petrichour)

(Source: jarrodis, via petrichour)

“I want to smell the sound of you eating
my thighs, spread
like warm apple butter,
You are the first person I think of when I think
of waking up.
I call room service,
but I’m not in a hotel.” by Gregory Sherl (via coeur-sur-la-main)

“There were always in me, two women at least. One woman desperate and bewildered, who felt she was drowning. And another who would leap into a scene, as if upon a stage, conceal her true emotions because they were weaknesses, helplessness, despair, and present to the world only a smile, an eagerness, curiosity, enthusiasm, interest.” -ANAÏS NIN”

“I like beautiful melodies telling me terrible things.” by Tom Waits (via kitty-en-classe)

(via bellalula)

“

In my defense, my forgotten breasts. In my defense, the hair
no one brushed from my face. In my defense, my hips.

Months earlier, I remembered thinking that sex was a ship retreating
on the horizon. I could do nothing but shove my feet in sand.

I missed all the things loneliness taught me: eyes that follow you
crossing a room, hands that find their home on you. To be noticed. Even.

In my defense, his hands. In my defense, his arms. In my defense,
how when we just sat listening to each other breathe, he said, This is enough.

My body was a house I had closed for the winter. It shouldn’t have been
that difficult, empty as it was. Still, I stared hard as I snapped off the lights.

My body was specter which haunted me, appearing when I stripped
in the bathroom, when I crawled into empty beds, when it rained.

My body was abandoned construction, restoration scaffolding
which became permanent. My body’s unfinished became its finished.

So in my defense, when he touched me the lights of my body came on.
In my defense, the windows were thrown open. In my defense, spring.

” by Cristin O’Keefe Aptowicz, “Not Doing Something Wrong Isn’t the Same as Doing Something Right” (via pigmenting)

(via fleurishes)

lindsaur-gor:

There needs to be a code word or something that means “my brain is fighting me every step of the way today and I feel like I’m going to vibrate out of my skin, so I need you to forgive everything and go slowly and speak softly and lower your expectations.” And then we could all just be like, “I know I said we could go to a movie tonight but… tangerines.” And the other person would nod and squeeze your elbow or rub your head and you wouldn’t feel like a failure.

(Source: mr-lindsey, via crookedmuse)

“You were made to be kissed, often and well.” by George R.R. Martin, A Storm of Swords  (via weaverofstars)

(Source: larmoyante, via weaverofstars)

5000letters:

This is what I know:
that it burns when you touch me, and it burns brighter when you do not and I am not sure how those things can quite exist in the same body.

(via weaverofstars)

“If you are depressed, you are living in the past. If you are anxious, you are living in the future. If you are at peace, you are living in the present.” by Lao Tzu (via stowaway)

(Source: ygrittea, via strangeness-and-charmm)

friend: there's a life outside the internet
me: send me the link

“I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?” by Ernest Hemingway  (via congratsonbeinglovely)

(Source: aquaticwonder, via congratsonbeinglovely)