fuckconsciousness reblogged
Source: instagram.com
fuckconsciousness reblogged
let me tell you something:
no one is going to look at you, broken and shattered
and think -
damn, you are beautiful.
no one is going to come pick up your broken pieces off the floor and
assemble them into a beautiful whole.
hell,
you won’t even look at yourself and think -
I made broken look beautiful.
you know why?
because all those writers lied to you.
yes,
all those with their poems of scraped knuckles and
blood dripping down chins,
pomegranate songs and loves that ripped through you like
hurricanes.
liars.
so you and i,
we are going to make a plan.
you are not going to romanticize days when your brain tells you to smash that mirror,
you are not going to romanticize the lover who doesn’t understand you
but still writes about you.
here is what you are going to romanticize instead:
you are going to romanticize the first day of spring,
its gentle hands all over your body,
lifting you up until you are as light as a feather.
you are going to romanticize the tea and honey kind of love,
no hurricanes,
but sunshine that builds you up from within,
that helps you make it through the worst days.
you are going to romanticize gentle hands of a friend
in yours,
telling you that it is going to be okay.
because it is.
and don’t trust poets,
we’re no good,
we love pretending that our jagged edges tantamount to a beautiful disaster, but in reality -
there ain’t nothing beautiful about shaky hands holding a cigarette and
empty eyes staring at the cracks in the walls.
you know what is beautiful, instead?
the days when you can look at yourself in the mirror and smile,
scars and all.
music that makes your soul flow like a river,
books that offer comfort,
families flocking together like overgrown birds to keep you safe and warm,
friends that give you strength when you can find none,
lovers who make you laugh through tears.
baby,
from now on
you are going to romanticize healing;
honey dripping down your fingertips,
August nights that stick to your skin,
the day you find your purpose,
long car rides and singing so loud that no one can shut you up now.
bad news:
no one is coming to save you.
good news:
you can save yourself.
Lana Rafaela (via wnq-writers)
Source: wnq-writers
fuckconsciousness reblogged
Maybe love is in New York City, already asleep, and you are in California, Australia, wide awake.
Maybe love is always in the wrong time zone, maybe love is not ready for you.
Maybe you are not ready for love.
Maybe love just isn’t the marrying type.
Maybe the next time you see love is twenty years after the divorce, love is older now, but just as beautiful as you remembered.
Maybe love is only there for a month.
Maybe love is there for every firework, every birthday party, every hospital visit.
Maybe love stays- maybe love can’t.
Maybe love shouldn’t.
Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye, “When Love Arrives” (via thelovejournals)
Source: thelovejournals.com
fuckconsciousness reblogged
poems-and-words
Book of the day: The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman
Get the FREE Kindle Reading App
Source: poemsandwords.com
Source: hplyrikz.com
fuckconsciousness reblogged
I’ve stopped being sorry for all my soft. I won’t apologise because I miss you, or because I said it, or because I text you first, or again. I think everyone spends too much time trying to close themselves off. I don’t want to be cool or indifferent, I want to be honest. If I love you at 5AM, I’d damn well rather that you know I felt it. If I love you two hours later, I’ll tell you then too. Listen, I won’t wait double the time it takes for you to text me back because I don’t want to. I don’t care enough to be patient with you. I’m happy, you made me feel that way, don’t you want to know? So that’s how it’s going to be. I’m going to leave myself as open as a church door. And I’m going to wake you up before the crack of dawn to tell you that I’m fucking joyful, no pretending, not from me, not ever. Would you like some coffee, would you please kiss me? Here, these are my hands, this is my mouth, it is all yours.
Azra T., Don’t Wait Three Days to Text First (via thelovejournals)
Source: thelovejournals
fuckconsciousness reblogged
thegoodvybe
Source: weheartit.com
To You.
If I knew that that was the last time that I’d hug you, damn it I would’ve hugged you so much longer.
I don’t think I would’ve let you go.
And if I knew that that was the last conversation where we shared all our thoughts and dreams.
Oh God I wouldn’t have stopped talking.
And if I knew that you would leave,
I swear I would’ve told you.
I would’ve told you you were the only person I ever felt connected with,
and that you were my home.
I would’ve told you that
you were my favorite movie to watch
and that your voice was my favorite song
and I could listen to it all day
without getting tired of it.
I would’ve told you
that you were my favorite poem
and that I could read you all day long.
But would this have made a difference.
Would you still have left
if you knew that you would leave
with my favorite song
my favorite movie,
my favorite poem
and my only home.
All the things I wish I had said. // ck.writes (on Instagram)
fuckconsciousness reblogged
Never beg for love. Never beg someone to love you back or be with you when you want to. Never beg for someone’s time, commitment, affection and attention. Never beg someone to stay with you when you need him the most. Because in the first place, if he loves you that much, he won’t leave you and let go of your hand. He will never let you beg for his presence and love because he will give it to you with open arms. Don’t beg, it’s demeaning and degrading. Remember, if you have to beg, he’s not worth it. No one is worth begging for.
baekebyan (via wnq-writers)
Source: wnq-writers.com
fuckconsciousness reblogged
She was like the beach. She had beautiul, warm sand that everyone loved to be in. And she had hundreds of pretty shells lining her shore, each one unique from the other and you could spend all day discovering new ones. And her oceans were just the right temperature. They were welcoming but just cold enough that no one stayed too long. Yet their depths were beyond frigid. The farther out you went, the colder it became. The farther down you went, the darker it became. Storms brewed and undercurrents swept violently in those parts of her, but the beauty of those opalescent waters surpassed that of her shore.
W.D.W (via wnq-writers)
Source: wnq-writers
fuckconsciousness reblogged
wordsnquotes
Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It’s the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.
Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum (via wordsnquotes)
Source: wordsnquotes.com
Confidence isn’t walking into a room with your nose in the air, and thinking you are better than everyone else, it’s walking into a room and not having to compare yourself to anyone else in the first place.
(via neutral)
fuckconsciousness reblogged
I wanted you to stay . And I think you wanted to stay too. But something wasn’t right. Maybe it was the timing. Or fate just pulling us apart. Maybe it was because I didn’t trust people and you thought I’d never trust you. But you left that Sunday morning. I don’t know which felt emptier the bed without you in it or my heart.
I never trusted anyone after you (via criying)
fuckconsciousness reblogged
fuckconsciousness reblogged
You must learn her.
You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.
You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.
And, this is how you keep her.
Junot Díaz, This Is How You Lose Her (via awelltraveledwoman)
fuckconsciousness reblogged
drinkt0forget-deactivated202303
Do you want to know what you did to me?
I can no longer enter into a relationship with innocence. I can no longer hope for love and feel those butterflies. Instead, i’ll enter cautiously, and kill myself worrying when i’ll be left. I can’t enjoy, I can’t laugh, I can’t be delicate, I can’t love at all. I’ll just accuse, and yell, and cry and tell them to go away– but i won’t let them go away. And I’m sorry because I have been mean because of you. I have been horrendous to the people I try to love. And I have to say, it isn’t on purpose. But how does anyone expect someone so fucked up to give them what they need? I cannot do that, and especially after you… you’ve taught me to worry and not to trust. you’ve taught me a new perspective of love, a new perspective world. you’ve changed everything. you’ve changed me… and I can no longer be so delightful. I can no longer be lovable. and I guess I just can’t believe you did this. I had nothing but unconditional love; and though you could say you had that too, your other girls and weeks without reply would beg to differ. But I cannot be judgmental and call you a monster, you weren’t always. I’m just so sorry someone made you a monster before I was able to get my hands on you. I could have saved you from that if we met sooner. I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you first. I’m so sorry someone made you as hard as you made me.
6:56
pm// I still haven’t stopped writing about you
(via drinkt0forget)