sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough. Like I can love others enough. Like I can be loved enough by anyone
The silent rage that builds inside this small carcass of mine terrifies me,
For I contain the power to set everything thing I love up in flames.
- s.l.v.
my painful never ending desire to be beautiful is the most self destructive thing about me
I am a jagged ugly creature, baring my fangs and snapping my jaw
But for you I will always be tender, I will always be kind
violentwavesofemotion-deactivat
Pavel Antokolsky, tr. by Bernard Meares, from “Ballad of the Wondrous Moment,”
I’ve never known where I’ll be 5 years from now. I’ve been asked when I was 13, then again when I turned 18. I’m turning 23 and I still don’t know where I am. Does it get much better than waiting for it to get better? Then I see you, and I still don’t know anything, but I know 5 years from now I don’t want to be like you. I think that is enough for now.
Chandelier above Alexander McQueen’s S/S07 presentation.
How can you be so many women to so many people, oh you strange girl?
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath — July 1950 - July 1953
Longing for soft love. Searching for the gentle in everything.
