But I have to admit
that some things
will never be
the same
without you.
Some songs
will sound different.
Some food
will taste bitter.
Some of the days
will be colder.
Some places
will look darker.

A lot of things
might have change
because of you.

Yet probably,
I might learn
to love myself
too.

—  ma.c.a // Years without you
The thought of losing you burns harder in the back of my throat more than any liquor could.
—  its hard to swallow
So I put
my head over
his chest,
and I heard
his heart beating,
I feel his soul
breathing,
a song
that makes
my life
more
worth living.
—  ma.c.a // The Sound of Him
I want to wash my mouth out
to get rid of all the hurtful things I said,
all the ugly words
that have escaped my lips.
I wish I could let water
wash away all the pain I’ve caused,
all the hopes I have shattered,
and start all over again.
—  // wash my mouth out
j.d.m.

You make me feel things.
Things I locked away.
Things I didn’t think possible,
To feel again.

You make me feel,
Like we’re stuck in a moment,
Hidden from time.
Stolen hours even days,
Feel like mere minute as they rush by.

You make me forget,
All my worries,
And the unwilling commitments,
The world has put in my path.

You make me remember how it feels to truly laugh.

And yes
they both feel
the same way,
yet no—
none of them
have enough
courage
to at least say.
—  ma.c.a // First Words
My friend once said love is easy. Well, i don’t agree. If it was easy i would be with him. If it was easy i would be able to hug him whenever i wanted. If it was easy i would be able to kiss him all the time. If it was easy i would be looking at his eyes now, saying “i love you” and he would say it back .
—  T.D
I want to message you, but I know you won’t message me back.
—  What have we become?//kayla
You say I am the best you’ve ever had, but neither of us care to admit I am also the best you’ll never be able to keep. I am a furious, windstruck storm of a human being, with passion bordering on madness and romanticism bordering on obsession. My kisses are the only part of myself your lips can fathom, and your hands cannot even touch my body without your fingers staining from all the storms that rage within me.
You seem to love the type of women whose eyes are serene and bright as the summer days they spend with you, who are beautiful and competent in the ways the world is only to happy to accept. They love with lukewarm tenderness and just a hint of arrogance only a life of privilege can bring- they hurt you, perhaps, but never amaze you, and the height of their unpredictability will end in a drunk car ride home that tastes almost as common as the whiskey you drink to forget them. But forgotten they will soon become, and there are many, many, women who will share the shade of their eyes and the nature of their well contained laughs. They will take months from you, tears from you, and sobriety from you temporarily, but never anything deeper. You do not understand the ways, then, in which women like me love. I will take the speck of honey brown from your eyes, the warmth of your skin, and the movement of your hips and hold them closer than you pull me, for I do not know what it means to feel without completion. To love, to feel, to touch without giving all of myself is a foreign concept I have no desire to become acquainted with, and I am sorry, but the only compensation I accept is everything you cannot give in fear it will destroy you. I will love you with all I have to offer, all of my madness and wild hair and sweet laughter and crooked teeth, and while there could be paradise between us, I offer no promises about what we will take from each other. Does that frighten you? It should. The truth is I am as full of destruction as I am affection.
You crave the sensation of me on top of you, but you do not understand me. Do not be fooled by the kindness in my eyes or the softness of my skin- I am a multitude of miraculous tragedies dressed in art. And as much as I want to love you and spread the deepest parts of myself over you like the tides on a coastal shore, I know you cannot love me in the way I demand to be loved. You are too accustomed to the idea of affection with no lasting consequence, and so you cannot possibly have enough to give without leaving me at least partly empty. I am someone full of presence, and any absence you leave will leave me bare.
—  ap (7.17) I do not know what it means to love with mercy

Please do not
believe them
when they say
that you are weak,
just because
you are in tears.

Do not believe
them when
they say
you can’t,
just because
they never
saw you
secretly trying.

Please do not
let their words
sink deeper
inside your head
when all they mean
is to bring you
lower than them.

—  ma.c.a // Never let them dim your light
i tore down the walls of my heart for you because i thought you wanted to come in, but all you did was linger outside only to leave in the end.
—  and now i’m left trying to rebuild it all over again.
And it’s one of those days where time is passing me slowly, the sun doesn’t radiate warmth and the walls seems to have my eyes. It’s one of those days where my tiredness doesn’t come from a lack of sleep and my ache doesn’t come from a paper cut. It’s one of those days where everyone is doing something, everyone is moving on with their life and I’m just here. I’m just a faceless person in loud world where people talk nonsense except no one notices me, not even myself. It’s one of those days when being buried in a ground seems more realistic than finding happiness. It’s one of those days where getting out of bed seems to be my civil war except with my own head. It’s one of those days where not even masking tape or super glue or months of therapy can heal what’s broken. My thoughts don’t seem like my own and my body doesn’t feel like a home. It’s one of those days and it’s been one of those days for a while now and I don’t know how to admit that I’m broken.
—  (Via Promsiesofamazing) // Deeply Feeling Series
Here’s to the people we said goodbye to, even though all we ever wanted was to hold on to them, begging them to stay. Here’s to those of us who still think of someone who’s long gone and struggle to let go. Here’s to the people we miss so much that the mere thought of them feels like a knife to the throat. Here’s to chances we didn’t take because the fear of failing was more than something that crossed our minds, it was a tangible thing that seeped into our skin and paralysed our bones. Here’s to the tears we allow to stream down our cheeks before we fall asleep at night so no one sees. Here’s to the love we have given over the years, the pieces of our hearts we handed out and never got back. Here’s to feelings we had to hide and fake smiles we plastered on our faces to uphold our charades. Here’s to whatever obstacle we’ve had to overcome, whatever battle we’ve had to fight, whatever pain we’ve had to feel, to make us kinder and better people - to make us evolve and grow. Here’s to everyone who believes in something more, in magic, in love, in the power of dreams and faith and everyone who has something to fight for. Here’s to everything that made us who we are today. Every glorious thing, the mountains we had to climb, the stars we had to count. Here’s to our ordinary lives we never fail to turn into something extraordinary. Here’s to our beautiful selves, raw and real, a reminder that life is not a line or a constant, but a vivid creature with its ups and downs and that all inconveniences considered, we’re doing pretty damn great.
—  here’s to life / n.j.