i think love is the person who stands in armor made of confidence and stern words that fights the self hatred inside of you.
i think love is the person who shows you how beautiful you are, but that shows you how to keep loving yourself even when they’re gone.
i think love is brutal.
i think love is red and purple.
i think love is songs about purple kool-aid and being dizzy.
i think love cradles you, even when you’re at your ugliest, when your demons are beating you, when you are ruining your own happiness.
i think that love is ever changing. it has no schedule, it has no rhythm, love owes you nothing, love is not an expectation.
i think love is a million little fragmented poems in a journal that you keep under the bed.
i think love is silent when needed to be.
i know they tell you that love is stardust, and moonshine, and hearts and candy,
but really, love is saving and failing and working and caring. it’s teaching, and most importantly it’s learning.
— Kalea Ann (thedreamerdisorder)