violentwavesofemotion-deactivat
I go through droughts and surges with writing. In the past I’d have a month or two where I wouldn’t write and I’d start to get depressed, feeling like I’d never write again. But now that I’m older I understand my own process better and I know that I need those times to recharge and allow life and inspiration to sink into me without overthinking it. Then suddenly I feel the urge to write again. I also think I need time from how emotional and heavy the process of writing can be for me.
Chelsea Wolfe, from an interview conducted c. April 2017 (via violentwavesofemotion)
I'm so sad that it hurts. Every part of my body aches. My chest feels like it just collapsed, and my bones feel broken. I'm so cold, and I can't get warm. My heart can't take it, I think it stopped beating. I knew it would happen eventually, but I wish you would of done better. I wish you would hurt me so bad that I could hate the thought of you. You didn't though. You were so careful, and your words were too steady. Now I feel too much.
c.d.
I don't think you love me like you used to. I think you fell apart. I think I did too. I never doubted anything you said until now. I thought we'd last forever, like soul mates do. I don't think that's the case anymore. I used to think it was poetic to love someone more than they loved you. It's not .
c.d.
I found shelter in you. Like a home I never had, but always longed for. Without asking for permission, I buried my belongings deep under your skin, throwing my heart into your hands with no hesitation. That was my first mistake. Soon after, that heart in your hands bled out from your own troubling ways, leaving me more broken than ever.
c.d.
The first boy I ever loved broke my heart. Maybe not on purpose, but at the time it hurt more than anything I had ever experienced from my time being on this planet. The second boy I ever loved, I loved because I ached for the feeling I had previously shared with another. Like the first time, it ended in an utter amount of sorrow and lack of trust that follows me wherever I seem to go. After an extensive visit with heartbreak I wanted nothing to do with love for an exceptionally long period of time. The third boy I met I never actually fell in love with, but I did think I was going to. Before I ever got the chance to, I was wiped out by another wave of unfortunate events.
c.d. // drafts
I told him he could come and find me if he ever changed his mind,“ she said, “but I never heard from him again.
“So you see, sometimes you offer people choices hoping that they’ll choose you. Sometimes you offer them choices knowing that they never will.”
S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #216 (via blossomfully)
There was a time when she fantasized about love. She laid awake at night and she stared at the ceiling, recounting every boy in her life that she could so easily love. She would smile at the endless possibilities. She wasn’t afraid of consequences or unhappy endings.
But then she starting fantasizing about you. And you were the first boy she fell in love with. She didn’t know how to love, and you fooled her into thinking that love meant compromise - but only on her side. You taught her to apologize even when it wasn’t her fault. You convinced her that loving you meant needing you. She learned how to love from someone who made her believe that her world revolved around him.
So, because of you, she lies awake at night crossing out every name on her imaginary list. She is so scared of loving someone again because she cannot bare the thought of being consumed by someone in the same way you consumed her.
She’s found solace in being alone because of the heartache you brought her in being in another’s company.
excerpt from an unfinished book #135 // If she never loves again, it’s your fault (via sleevesofgrass)
violentwavesofemotion-deactivat
We walked about as if we were in the midst of ruins; the air was heavy with emotion.
Katherine Mansfield, from a letter to Virginia Woolf c. March 1919 (via violentwavesofemotion)
