they’re my family.
not by something as
ACCIDENTAL as blood.– BUT ONE MADE BY CHOICE.
゜・。。・゜゜・。♡ 。・゜゜・。。・゜
i want to punch you in the fucking throat
゜・。。・゜゜・。♡ 。・゜゜・。。・゜
Did they know that you were only human?
Warsan Shire, from “Questions for Miriam”
(via bloodyknucklxs)
Letting go of somebody you truly love is not like burning a picture or closing a door-
It’s drifting away on a sailboat as they’re forced to stand ashore and watch you leave them.
It’s allowing the lazy current to carry you away as you witness the agony and pain etched on their face.
It’s screaming apologies across the vastness of the ocean even though you know they can no longer hear you.
And it leaves you gazing at the horizon, longing for that shore, wondering if you’ll ever see it again.
Z.M. (via wnq-writers)
who could love a broken thing?
She’s dark blue with stars,
staying up all night to chart the moon
as it arcs up out of reach and then
fades with the coming dawn.
She’s coffee and no sugar,
hanging above the crash like
evanescent smoke, dizzying to watch,
and impossible to catch.
She’s the colliding of horizons,
the deafening smash of comets,
the girl in bed who is always awake
because she cannot bear the thought
of even tasting death.
am kennedy, “The Wake” (via siilentiary)
I’ve never been good with speaking.
I stutter too much, lose my thoughts,
And even if I know what I’m saying,
I really don’t know how to explain it.
I chose the pen over my mouth,
But at that, there was a cost.
Hardly anyone listens, let alone hears,
Because I can’t speak it aloud,
And words on paper just aren’t enough.
PSB, “Even When Writing,” People Don’t Listen” (via wnq-writers)
It’s killing you.
People keep getting hurt
and you just can’t stop it.
&& i’m going to die on my feet
before i live on my k n e e s
