vacant hearts

She asked me, “baby, what’s your favorite thing about me?” I smiled that half smile she always talks about. I tell her. “Your hands.” She looks at me quizzically and confused… “Hands? Not my lips not my tits… My hands?” I chuckle at the way I confuse her. See she has never been loved the way hurricanes love New Orleans. The way beer bottles explode on campfires. The way the bass of the club rattles a lonely ex lover who can’t remember the sound of their exes voice. She has never been loved the way I love her. So I take her hands in mine and smile gently at those crimson eyes of hers and tell her..“I love your hands because they are the things that first hit send when you spoke to me on tumblr for the first time. I love them because they are connected to the finger tips that type out the words "I miss you”, across 2,800 miles of space to the phone in my hands. They are my favorite because they are what pressed ‘answer’ the first time I Skyped you and saw your angelic face for the very first time. I am in love with your hands because when I first met you in the airport they were the first things that wrapped themselves around my waist and sent electricity through my spine. I love your hands because when I took them in mine and gave you my ring, the cold metal warmed instantly as I slid it onto your finger. I love them because when we had to say goodbye at the airport, they clung to me like a divers last breath before hitting the surface. Finally, I love them because in three months, when you come home to me, they will slide right back into mine like no time has passed.
—  Vacant-heart-open-mind

This loneliness
This thick black cloud unclearing
For years I have been alone after the last time I burned through someone

Here is a hammer
Rebuild from it if you can figure out how
To make a home out of yourself

I only love with a great fire
As though I was a spark that sprang from black when the earth began

I swear
This heart is too full to be so dammed vacant
This heart
This keeps beating
This pressure rising
This love
This thing nobody can stand to touch for very long
This thing nobody can understand

Do you want a simple lover?
One who will be a little less intense?
A little less centre and more skin?

I cried once when somebody put their hand on my back because
It had been so long
Since anyone had touched me

I am the lover who will weep
Just to be in your arms

The rain will come and afterward
The sky will be clear again
And bright
And life will grow here
I want you to understand

Why the earth was born

.

m.edwards

4

“You must realize, my dear child that not everyone in the world is like you. There are those who walk among us, who have no heart. They may look like you and me, but where their heart should be, is only a rusted-out, vacant hole, rimmed by ragged iron teeth.”

if there is still
a vacant place
inside your heart,
could you,
please,
get in touch
to let me know
when it is occupied?
so that i’d stop
building up hope
to make it mine
someday,
no longer waiting
for the news
about its state.
because
as long as it exists,
then so do i.
please,
get in touch
to let me know
when it is occupied.
—  occupied

My vacant heart
How is it that you split in two parts
I’m checking in to reminisce
A roller coaster ride in the dark
To places I don’t want to go

Parachutes to break my fall
Tangled up in deeper thought
Makes falling faster
I’m falling faster

I found you inside of a dream
Spinning in circles magically
Took a picture of your eyes
So I could find my empty mind

anonymous asked:

no joke if i thought elounor was real i'd think it's the most cold hearted, emotionally vacant relationship ever. at least danielle tried.

i know!!! they both look tired and annoyed most of the time!! we criticized danielle but she at least tried to look happy with him lmao

This is my girlfriend @vacant-heart-open-mind, everybody. I couldn’t help taking a picture of her when she wasn’t looking…just look at her. I’m so lucky to call her my partner.

I remember being sixteen and when she broke my heart I swore to never give it out again to a woman with blue diamond eyes and hair the color of gold. I remember drowning my sorrows in the bottle with clear happiness that made my eyes close without my knowledge and sleeping for six months strait. I remember when a tall girl with eyes the color of emeralds and thick black hair that I loved to run my hands through told me my scars were beautiful and that our skin was both ivory, and she wanted to paint the world black so that we would be the only beautiful ones. I remember finding out she was still in love with someone else and that I was just a body to keep her warm at night. I’m anemic. I remember a year later a girl with freckles that made me want to connect the constellations and eyes the color of hazel taught me that the universe can be beautiful when you stop caring about life, I also remember the feeling in my chest when she told me she wanted to fuck other people. As in men. I remember months later after I had snorted every white powder up my nose I could find I met a woman, no, an angel with eyes the color of chocolate brown with crimson running through it like the blood pumping through my veins when she touched me. I remember the first time she touched me. I remember feeling like I was on fire but I didn’t want to put myself out. I remember looking her in the eyes while she said she wanted to spend forever with me. I cried because I thought that I had looked into every type of eyes and these were the only ones I didn’t see a lie in. I may have looked into every type of eye but until I saw crimson passion vibrating into my rib cage and soul did I know that sometimes the world doesn’t look beautiful until you see it through the right lens. And God is the world so beautiful.
—  Vacant-heart-open-mind
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LOLA COLT : VACANT HEARTS

It was like there was a “For Rent” sign on my heart and you moved right in upon us meeting for the first time. 

I made a home for you, in my heart. 

You hung up framed photographs and lit fires in the fireplace. 

You’d come and go as you pleased, but you lived there, no less. 

Then one day you packed up and left it vacant because your heart was full, too. With someone whose heart was as full of you as you were for theirs. 

I guess it’s a good thing that my heart was only for rent because a for sale sign would have tried to get you stay longer in a place that you didn’t belong.
—  “Properties” - g.t.