“My alone feels so good, I’ll only have you if you’re sweeter than my solitude.”
— Warsan Shire (via homemayde)
(Source: simply-quotes.net, via nogreatillusion)
9:57 pm 11,059 notes
“We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension and not in another, unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present and future mingle and pull us backward, forward or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations”
— Anaïs Nin
“I will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window, your records, your books, our morning coffee, our noons, our nights, our bodies spilled together, sleeping, the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever. Your leg, my leg, your arm, my arm, your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.”
— Charles Bukowski
(Source: andwhisper, via lifeinpoetry)
6:11 am 3,598 notes
I have bruises I don’t remember getting, my muscles hurt from sleeping strangely and making love and falling over. I have beetroot stains on the palms of my hands and cuts on my knees. A watch tan, chipped nailpolish and split ends. It is summer all over again.
“But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human”
— Kurt Vonnegut
We’re growing up in between breaths and it’s still the smallest things that carry the most weight, that glow the brightest. It’s the outstretched fingers, the hesitations, the negative space between bodies. Today my heart swells quietly for silly, shallow reasons. Today I measure how little I’ve slept by the dampness of my hair and I just need to remember this - how I’m giving myself permission to feel again.