How far have you walked for men who’ve never held your feet in their laps?
— Warsan Shire (via mermaidporn)
How often have you bartered with bone, only to sell yourself short?
Why do you find the unavailable so alluring?
Where did it begin? what went wrong? And who made you feel so worthless?
If they wanted you, wouldn’t they have chosen you?
All this time, you were begging for love silently, thinking they couldn’t hear you, but they smelt it on you, you must have known that they could taste the desperate on your skin?
And what about the others that would do anything for you, why did you make them love you until you could not stand it?
How are you both of these women, both flighty and needful?
Where did you learn this, to want what does not want you?
Where did you learn this, to leave those that want to stay?
(Source: beyoncepadthaii, via hannahscupofcare)
— Pablo Neruda (via el-link)
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you simply, without complexities or pride;
I love you because I know no other way
than this: where there is no I nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
(Source: roomoon, via hannahscupofcare)
intro to photo book entitled ”Child Brides” . Each photo will be framed with drawings of baby teeth to keep them
Happy Mother’s Day everyone.
Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away.
— F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (via onlykeep)
(Source: 13neighbors, via snoelm)
thoughts about the impermanence of a hook up written in permanent marker in the places he touched
by Lindsay Bottos
“I washed your lips away.”
It’s said it takes seven years
— Brett Elizabeth Jenkins, December 21st, 2002 (via ch0chalapan0cha)
to grow completely new skin cells.
To think, this year I will grow
into a body you never will