Why do you feel heavier and heavier in my chest everyday?
You. You are doing a terrible job of keeping Heart caged in. Stop letting it out to sit on
Is the moon really that beautiful, that it takes your breath away?
I don't remember what you look like when you're smiling.
Stop looking for boys who can't love you back. I'm tired of falling for them.
Stop buckling when Eyes see boys that can't love you back.
Please stop pounding—I can't hear anything over these tsunami tides crashing against my skull.
Stop shaking. Stop shaking. Stop shaking. Stop shaking.
I know you are only held together by super glue and loose strings but please. don't fall apart on me."
— a letter to my body (source: passivevoices)
there is a woman in China holding a black umbrella so she
won’t taste the salt of the rain when the sky begins to weep,
there is a 17 year old girl who smells like pomegranates and has summer air tight on her naked skin, wrapping around her scars
like veins in a bloody garden, who won’t make it past tomorrow,
there is a young man, who buys yellow flowers for the woman
in apartment 84B, who learned braille when he realized she
couldn’t read his poetry about her white neck and mint eyes there are people watching films,
making love for the first time, opening mail with the
heading of ‘i miss you’, cooking noodles with
organic spices and red sauces, buying lemon detergent,
ignoring ‘do not smoke’ signs, painting murals
of his lips in abandoned warehouses, chewing
the words ‘i love you’ over and over again, swallowing
phone numbers and forgotten birthdays, eating
strawberry pies, drinking white wine off of each
others open mouths, ignoring the telephone,
reading this poem somewhere
someone is thinking
someone finally understands
they never really
- irynka via tumblr.com
“Time doesn’t exist. Clocks exist.
Nothing actually exists. Your body simply houses a soul, run by a three pound brain. You are simply a mind. Where is your mind exactly? It feels like it’s in your head. When you think about it, you can almost feel your thoughts happening. When you walk, it’s just piloting. Nothing is real. Other people view you as someone completely different as you view yourself. You know all those times when you temporarily fall in love with someone on the bus or train? How beautiful or handsome they seem, hair lightly falling over their eyes, or maybe they have short hair or are bald. But something about them beckons yourself to them, and you want to hold them tightly. And then they get off, and you feel like you have been ripped in two. You’ve been that person for many. That person who they’re planning, “at this stop.. I’ll say hello.” And then you leave. People have most likely cried over you, in their bed, head buried into their pillow. Or they have thought of you in the car on a long drive to the doctors or to their grandparents house, looking out the window, wondering what it’d be like for you to be driving, one hand off the wheel to hold yours. All of that has happened. And the next time you mumble to yourself, “No one will ever love me”, simply remember, people already have.” -unknown