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Don’t break a writer’s heart and think ink won’t spill.
Ten Word Story #38 - M.D.L (via mingdliu)


fuck depression. there’s nothing more insidious than a disorder that tricks lovely people into believing they are worthless. 

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one…
C.S Lewis The Four Loves (via poetry-and-insomnia)
Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete? Proving nature’s laws wrong, it learned to walk without having feet. Funny, it seems to by keeping it’s dreams; it learned to breathe fresh air. Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else even cared.
Tupac Shakur (via purplebuddhaproject)
The Daydream (That Keeps Me Hanging On)

I have an image of me
splayed across your sheets
yawning, sleepy with sex
and as-of-yet unsipped coffee
on the bedside table, untouched,
unlike me: undressed, bathed
in linen, bedding bunched at foot—

and you, leaning slumber-eyed
on the door frame
with a toothbrush
hanging from your lips,
hair in knots where
my fingers have run
skin ablush where
my tongue has done
it’s best to trace
the lines of your body
and follow the outlines
of your ribs where the sun
spilled slanted through
venetian blinds.

Washed Out vinyl givin me the vibes today

Refusing to move till I have to today

Refusing to move till I have to today

so I wait for you like a lonely house
till you will see me again and live in me.
Till then my windows ache.
Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets (via quoted-books)


In a musical, nothing dreadful ever happens.

The greatest heartache comes from loving another soul, they said, beyond reason, beyond doubt, with no hope of salvation.
Lang Leav (Dead Poets, Lullabies)

I have like an hour till my show and I haven’t picked a set list

How to Write a Poem

Catch the air
around the butterfly.

Katerina Stoykova Klemer (via observando)
This Is The Face of My Mental Illness


imageI took this picture of myself at the end of a day I spent in bed, scared and crying, feeling alone and hopeless and completely desperate.

This is the face of my mental illness. This is the face of my sadness when it is at its most inexplicable and its most pronounced.

I am not ashamed of it.

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Because lying to your kids about sex helps nobody. Telling them that sex is “only between mommies and daddies” is a lie that leads to confused, hormone charged teenagers. Telling them that sex is “only something that happens when two people love each other very much” is a lie that causes hormone charged teenagers to confuse “love” with “lust,” or “obsession.” It leads to leaps of logic like, “If I have sex with them, we must be in love.” Or worse- “If I love them, I have to have sex with them.” And how many teenage tragedies are based on that misconception?