writing poems on this

How blessed it truly is, to stumble upon a soul that wants nothing but smiles and sunshine for you, for the rest of your life.
And maybe if our lives had aligned, we could’ve continued to date and hold hands and I’d be in college with you and I’d get a job and maybe we could use money from my paycheck to go out on dates and you’d never even have to worry about rides because I’d pick you up and maybe we’re not even going out on a date, maybe we’d just go on long drives around town doing nothing and maybe we’d stop for food somewhere and all of this fun stupid stuff. Or we could even just stay home all day and play video games and be ugly and listen to music together or watch stupid stuff and all of these things I want to do with you and only you. Oh and naps. You can’t forget napping together.
But. Here I am. And I have to let it all go and I have to keep going because. Yeah.
—  roibitussin 

Michael Jordan would be proud of this Seed Line, you know, because it’s from Typewriter Series #23 and all. At any rate, for any of you out there that feel like they cannot endure any longer: YOU CAN. Please do. Please keep fighting and trying and dragging yourself out of bed if you must. Life gets easier, it gets more beautiful, and all those miracles live right on the other side of ache. I love ya. All of you. Thanks for being so wonderful.

The fog on these windows won’t clear,
Despite rays of sun shining in from above,
Despite the warmth in their eyes.
Friends bring in heaters sometimes,
Line them up along the walls of my house
Like soldiers on a battlefield.
Somehow I still manage to stumble,
Blindly, tripping over corpses
With mirrors for faces.
I still cannot name her.
—  poeticallyordinary, the stranger in the mirror
You kissed me and I tasted the sky.
—  E. Grin, i think i’m addicted to the stars.
I think about how there’s certain people we’ll never see again
and the inevitably of death,
and no matter how long you’ve known a person,
how much you love and care,
there’ll always be room for them to disappear.
I think about you can only hold onto moments for only so long
until they are gone and only live in your memory,
and as your memory grows faulty
and you begin to wonder if you can even trust the nostalgia,
instead of morphing the feelings into something better,
being present instead of wishing for some place better.
I think about how everything has an end
and with everything,
we need to learn how to let go.
But we hold onto the possibilities, the what-if’s
and live with the maybe’s and should have been’s.
Because goodbye’s are never easy
and beginnings are almost as hard as endings
and we are never truly happy where we are
so we spend lifetimes searching for safe spaces,
but we settle for the lesser,
never truly feeling satiated,
and living with our empty hearts.
I want to remember napping on the swing at my grandparent’s old house when I was small enough to actually fit on it.
I want to remember trekking through the woods in our front yard, pretending to live off the wild.
I want to remember walking into my old school after being dropped off by my mom.
I want people to remind me of what we’ve experienced together.
I want to be able to remember why I have such a strong bond with someone.
I want to build a relationship with those memories.
I wonder if you look at me and feel all the crazy things I feel when I look at you.
—  Tenari Ioapo // Or do you look at me and feel nothing at all because you’re only in love with the idea of me?
I believe that if you’re going to travel the world, then you need to be open to it… You need to have love in your heart; for the people, the culture and the landscapes.
You need to be ready to let the world in… to see it from another perspective and be able to accept the ultimate truth of our existence - that we may appear so very different from one another… but fundamentally we are all the same.
We all have eyes to see each other, ears to hear each other and hearts to love each other. We may speak in different tongues – but we are united by a universal language which we can all speak fluently if we only allow ourselves to open our heart to others… We all speak the language of love.

you told me I couldn’t move on,
held me by my shirt collar
and told me to stay put
as you wandered away,
off to a girl who was obedient-
a girl who knew how to take commands

so I sat there at the bus stop for 3 days,
watching the world move by as I 
waited, waited, waited
for you and all of the promises you made,
but I got drenched in the tidal wave 
of street water that got pushed my way

and still, I was not as filthy as you.
you have only ever been the scum 
running under the streets in pipes,
I am done being dirty.
I am done waiting. 
And I have never been one for taking orders

I get on the next bus that comes by,
I don’t know where it is going
except that it is away from you
and I smile out the window
as the world moves on
and I move with it.

—  on leaving him behind || O.L.