The more you like someone, the more you get addicted. The more you get addicted to someone, the more difficult is to say goodbye

allysxn:

i’m going to stop posting I promise. 

Swear this was me this morning 😌

waterthough:

why is everyone so beautiful and skinny and perfect and i’m like a fucking potato 

I wrote seventeen poems
the day you left
on my upper thigh
in black sharpie
and laid still
in bed for six days
until the ink
wore off

I thought
for a moment
to get the words
tattooed onto
my skin
but I have a problem
with things that
claim to be permanent:

they aren’t

so I wrote poems
over indentations
in my legs
watching the black
tar penetrate old
and new skin
like fertilizing
a battle field
of stretch marks
and scars

It has been three years
two summers
and I have
dyed my hair
dark so you
would not
recognize me
if you ever saw me again
but the poems
still remain
in sharpie
underneath flowing skirts
and bathing suits
that I buy but never wear:

you promised me
that you would love me
for the rest of my life
but like the sharpie that fades
or tattoos that burn;
nothing is permanent
words only leave stains
that are barely legible
but always there-

and everything hurts .


I Wrote Seventeen Poems the Day You Left (Why Can I Not Let Go) by LeahJuliett (via be-free-barbie)
http://please-stay-for-dinner.tumblr.com/post/82695440789/dont-get-me-wrong-it-hurts-it-hurts-like-hell

please-stay-for-dinner:

Don’t get me wrong, it hurts. It hurts like hell. But I cannot be upset by it. I still love her. There’s no doubt about it. Her face still brings weak aches to my chest. The feeling is a combination of memories. I remember the days we laid in bed together and slept. I remember the day I brought…


jheneaiko:

listen

(Source: thugism)

You didn’t fall in Love
with him.
No.
You fell in Love with the fall.

When you felt that
you could not be touched
he kissed you off of a cliff.
and you - grew a disdain for edges

During your decline,
you confused
your own pheromones
for his
and chose to ignore the signs.

Like the nights
when you’d lay together -
you’d write an entire poem
on his bedsheets,
Just to wake up to a haiku.

Yet. you constantly gave
him sacred parts of yourself -
your ribs.
your honey.
even your crown

Sadly enough,
heartbreak takes advantage
of people like you.
those who are
too clumsy with balance -
eyes too skinny to
see God in themselves -

Though you fell, lover
you will eventually land again.
whether in green pastures
or muddy waters,
another lover will arrive -
they will kiss you and
you will grow favorable of
edges again

For the pain
you felt
was only the wrapping,
it was not the gift.


Recovery, agape.bone (via agapebone)

Wow.

(via dgafucck)

(Source: agapebydesign)