wordnquote

and i’m sorry i always mistake your genuine kindness for something more. i’m just not used to people being so kind.
—  all you are ever being is nice ( @prolixen )

If I can only teach one thing, I’d definitely teach self-love. I know we hear it a lot but it’s something they don’t teach in school or in church. It’s not something that people consider a big deal or necessary unless they know someone who is depressed or suicidal. I can’t emphasize enough how this concept, how this thing called self-love can save humanity.

Everything starts within ourselves. Everything we do, the things we say, how we treat others is a reflection of how wee see and treat ourselves. I understand how loving yourself can be hard for some people. We see things in others that we cannot find in ourselves no matter how much we dig deeper.

In poetry, it’s easy to say love your scars, let them shine! Or you’re beautiful, you’re important  but how many of us actually believe this? How many boys and girls actually see this an an encouragement to keep them going? I don’t know. Yet how I wish words are not that limited. I wish words are enough to make people realize that there’s so much to see in them. That they just have to open their eyes so it’s not their skin they’ll see in the mirror but their soul.

Self-love is not about vanity or narcissism. It’s more of embracing your flaws, seeing yourself as your best buddy, treating your needs as a priority. It’s starts by bringing your darkness into the light.

Personally, I suck at math. I fear numbers but whenever my professor chooses to embarrass me in class by asking me to solve a problem I cannot even understand, I stand up with a smile knowing even if numbers don’t love me, words are always there to comfort me. I’m good with words and I own it! See? It’s the first step. If you’re bad at something, there’s always this one thing you will be excellent at. I don’t believe it when someone says I have no talent. That is bullshit. It’s either this person is being too humble (or just being a secret dick) or he has not discovered that talent yet.

Each of us has a gift and it’s not always in the form of art or science or entertainment. You might be good in listening. Maybe you’re empathetic. Or you have a good memory. You don’t forget easily which can be a tragedy or an advantage. But my point is, we can find something in ourselves that others only wish they have.

Self-love is also about celebrating your physical attributes instead of complaining why you’re not a Victoria Secret model material. Remember it’s not too late to change the things you hate about yourself. Maybe you’re financially limited right now or your family is conservative. Or perhaps you’re afraid of people’s judgement but who cares? If it will make you happy and more confident, do it. Self-love also means freedom. Freedom to make choices, to decide, to leave and to stay, to care and to not give a fuck.

Self-love is liberating. You can go out of the house without a tiny drop of concealer on your face. You can totally dance on that dress despite your fat belly and thigh gap. You can color your hair, your nails, your life. You can do whatever you want as long as it’s legal and morally upright. What I mean is that, when you start loving yourself you will be invincible. You will be loved and hurt by the right people for the right reasons. You will never be lonely even if you’re alone. You will never die of a broken heart. You will always have something to look forward to. You will know how it feels like to trust and be trusted, to have honest and raw conversations with people, to go on adventures and to live life like it’s yours and yours alone.

Self-love is not easy and for others, self-destruction is a better option. But please reconsider. One day, you’ll meet someone who’ll tell you how beautiful you are and you’re not going to get tired of hearing it. You’ll say, thank you. It’s nice to know you think so, too.

—  irishjulienne, self-love and why you should start learning it by heart
You can blame this all on me if that helps you sleep at night. Tell them that I was the worst. Tell them how indecisive I was. Tell them how I had bad mood swings. Tell them how one day I loved you and the next day I hated you. Tell them that I wasted your time. Tell them that you’re glad that we’re through. But don’t forget to tell them how you were in love with me.
—  you’re blaming this all on me and we both know that this isn’t all my fault // personal
I don’t wanna be the that kind of person, who in 10 years will unhappy look up to the moon, telling herself she should have lived more.
Come spring
the sky became a cool canvas
the earth a starving artist
eager to earn a living
bleeding carnations
colouring the rain
creating a masterpiece
out of an empty plain
—  Songs of Spring
It’s been long since I’ve seen
Your crystal laden face
Days, weeks or maybe months
I’m not even sure
Cause without your presence
They all feel the same.
I know I ripped off your throat
And clenched onto your skin
Like wine stains which you
Tried to wash away a million times.
I know you’ve buried our memories
In the graveyard behind your house
And me calling your name in a moonless night
Is nothing but screeching of a ghost that terrifies
You.
I apologize for loving you
After you’ve stopped loving me
And my love just
Tears you apart into
Shreds now.
— 

I’m sorry for loving too hard// S.M

by @saniamushtaq123

I have an intimate relationship with nature. I mourn flowers as they die and dig a grave for them in the pages of my notebook. During a stroll in the forest, I comfort the weeds and tell them they’re beautiful even if they don’t make it in bouquets and fancy vases. I admire the moss for its ability to make a home anywhere. Not all people can adapt like that. I thank the trees for staying when nobody ever does, for the papers and houses and for patiently waiting for the rain each time. I celebrate the oceans and rivers and lakes for there is beauty in transparency and depth. They are gentle and terrifying and they teach you that drowning is only one of the many reasons while we stop breathing. The mountains - my forever lover. I witness the grandness of this world on my way to the top. The wind playing tug of war with my body, the leaves saying farewell to their branch, the soil and dust making love with my skin. I don’t think I’ll ever be lonely when there’s so much life and love breathing around me.
—  irishjulienne, the only lover you’ll ever need