You get what you are given. And it might be wonderful… and it might be painful. And it might be both.
—  Amelia Shepherd (Grey’s Anatomy Season 13, Episode 17: Till I Hear It From You)
I forgot how amazing but how painful it is to have a crush on someone. I forgot how amazing it feels to be excited to see someone and talk to them but how painful it feels to not know whether or not they want to see you and talk to you.
—  But ever since I met you, I’m starting to remember all over again.

Every time I think about you, I can’t help but smile.
Every time I talk to you, I am automatically happy.
Every time you touch me, I get goosebumps on my arms.
Every time you look at me, I can’t help but wish you’d say something.
Every time you say something, I wish you would keep talking.

Every time I look at you, I wish you were mine.

—  Sarn
honestly, I'm not sure

if i can trust
the ground beneath my feet
when there are crevices forming in the desert
like my tibia screaming for the sea

and if the tides respond
i’m not sure if i’ll trust
the sediment words they speak
washing over but never getting rid of
the tiny fissure
three quarters down my knee
that makes up this desert
of uncertainty.

- s.d.t // 4.15.17

I am so confused as to what I want with my life.

For whatever reason, physics is sticking. Nights like this I don’t completely understand why. Or maybe I’m just so exhausted I can’t think the thoughts I would typically be able to think. This is probably going to sound like drunk nonsense but I don’t drink. I’m just a sleep deprived bipolar II human.

But physics. Yeah. That’s where I’m going.

I’ve latched onto the idea of quantum mechanics. And for that I’m not entirely sure why. Because if the small stuff is understood, we can then understand the big stuff? Because it just sounds/is complicated? Because I actually like it or do I just think it makes me seem smart to say I like it? Sometimes I really wonder.

Keep reading

The Rended Citadel of the Nymph

I’ve never visited
But still I know
You have arcane beaches
Of shell and bone,
Ground so fine
We barefoot pad
Across your shores,
Build you up in castles high,

But you’re already
In the sky
In mountain range, overlooking.
Your elocutionist stage
Conducts the wind -
Painted melodies
Gripping forts of the mind.

Your shiny sea,
Glitter-blue, yet more refined,
Turns midnight leaves
Golden white.

For never was there a place like you,
Grounded somehow in the sky,
Light-filled shadows,
A tundra
Of tropic life.

And maybe that’s why
Dark horizons trick my eyes
For when I’ve found sanctuary,
Exposed worn body to the storm,
Gale force boils,
Turbines the sea
Into chandeliered ossuary

The bones of me.


My steps have never

Been so careful.

I land like shards

Of glass on silk 

Without leaving 

A single tear.

In loving you,

I have become

Dainty, fainting,

Lost and unsure.

I may meet

The ideal in a way

My free, clumsy

Jumps never could,

But I live to dance,

Not to tiptoe,

And I need solid


- Grace Babcock © 2017

By learning to allow different types of discomfort to simply stay in the room with you, without your scrambling for a button to push, you make discomfort matter less. The pool of things you’re afraid of shrinks. It becomes a lot less important to control circumstances, because you know you can handle moments of uncertainty or awkwardness or disappointment without an escape plan.
—  David Cain
I never wanted to be one of those girls that asked, what are we? I always thought I’d be content just to be with a person. But I’ve realized, the reason those girls exist, the group which I am now a part of, is because of the uncertainty that accompanies caring.
—  K. Gray