bagmilk:

mom i can’t go to school today i’m ugly

viajeatravesdeltiempo:

Podría pasar una eternidad mirando esos ojos que tanto me gustan.

'I refuse to look in a mirror.

Whether the wildness is
real or not
depends on who lives there.
'
Margaret Atwood, “Further arrivals,” from The Journals of Susanna Moodie (via lifeinpoetry)
'Please die I said
so I can write about it
'
Margaret Atwood, “Their attitudes differ,” from Power Politics (via lifeinpoetry)
'I thought about you today and it hurt so fucking much, I didn’t think it was possible to break a heart that no longer beat, but fuck you did and I can’t breathe.'
— I wish I couldn’t feel anything (via jessielou24)
'Taint my lips with the wine infused on yours and watch me become an alcoholic.'
— a 365 poetry project entry // Haley Hendrick (via s-k-e-t-c-h-e-d)
'

I want to love you without walls
around this rattling birdcage heart
but I can’t stop the thought that

even though you’ve said you are
strong enough to last the storms, that
you enjoy the wild of my sea

one of these days you’ll murmur
“i love you”
and it will be the last time
you say those words
to me.

'
i’m sorry i’m a mess /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)
'For after all,
the best thing one can do
when it is raining
is let it rain.
'
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, excerpt from “The Poet’s Tale” (via teenager90s)
'

One.
You asked me to be yours on a fall
evening as we laid in separate beds.
Even though we were apart, we
couldn’t get the other out of our heads.
With no hesitation I said yes, never with
a second guess.

Two. Three.
The packages we sent wrapped in
love and laced with the scent of our
smell, the first time I held something
of yours my tears had fell.

Four. Five.
I have found myself staring at the
map, point A to point where you’d
be. Goddamn these miles keeping
you from me.

Six. Seven.
Why is the craving of your skin
against mine the only thing that
causes pain and pleasure? No
one understands that the simple
touch is a treasure.

Eight. Nine.
The late nights of I love you. I love
you more. The thought still haunts
me, I’ve never felt this way before.

Ten.
I say, “I know I am a handful, I know
I am a complete mess.”
He says,“That doesn’t make me love you
any less.”

Eleven.
I could cry, not because you’re gone
but because you’re still here. Everyone
else in the past just seemed to disappear.
I have realized that all the loves I’ve laid
to rest, have led me to only the best.
Just stay with me for as long as we continue
to exist, hold my hand so tight until
there’s a purple wrist.

'
i.c. // "Eleven Months" (via delicatepoetry)
'Nothing in the world smells as good as the person you love.'
— (via canhappenlove)
'Quería quedarme ahí, entre sus brazos, pegadita a su pecho, aspirando su aroma.'
— COOS (via fruta-y-menta)
'Quería quedarme ahí, entre sus brazos, pegadita a su pecho, aspirando su aroma.'
— COOS (via fruta-y-menta)
'Quería quedarme ahí, entre sus brazos, pegadita a su pecho, aspirando su aroma.'
— COOS (via fruta-y-menta)
'Quería quedarme ahí, entre sus brazos, pegadita a su pecho, aspirando su aroma.'
— COOS (via fruta-y-menta)