Healing

“And in the end, we were all just humans, drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.”

– Christopher Poindexter

Queen

“I tried to make a home out of you,
but doors lead to trap doors, a stairway leads to nothing.
Unknown women wander the halls at night.
Where do you go when you go quiet?

You remind me of my father, a magician. Able to exist in two places at once.
In the tradition of men in my blood, you come home at 3am and lie to me.
What are you hiding? The past and the future merge to meet us here.
What luck, what a fucking curse.”

– Beyonce, Lemonade (part 1)

To The Woman Who Cried Oceans For You

[…]

I loved you. Maybe more than I will ever love myself. And you loved me too. We were living in a paradise of rainbows and wildflowers. Our love was stronger than any storm.
But in its wake also comes destruction. In the process of falling in love, we also destroyed ourselves.

But we never knew that until it’s already too late for the two of us,
We were already broken.
The chasm between the two of us could no longer be bridged,
So we decided to let each other go.
[…]

—

Written by Avena Dane for Artparasites.com

#NoteToSelf

“You can’t spend the rest of your life being afraid of people rejecting you. You have to start by not rejecting yourself.
You don’t deserve it.”

-Unknown

Please, 2015

my mind has gone winter on me, so i am without warmth. i am a chaotic blood rising between my teeth. i try to use these soft hands to shove it all back down, to keep in control, to remain in one piece, to remain whole.

please let me finish this year without screwing myself over, please let me get out of here will all my fingers, all my heartstrings, without having every friendship i have known ruined.

i want to go back to when i could remember how to laugh right. i want to sleep well. i want to wake up and not feel like hell.

– inkskinned

Memories: Shattered

“Is this what sadness is all about? Is it what comes over us when beautiful memories shatter in hindsight because the remembered happiness fed not just on actual circumstances but on a promise that was not kept?”

―Bernhard Schlink, The Reader

Words

“We are afraid
to talk about
what hurts
because talking
requires breath
and there are
certain memories
we’d rather suffocate.
Perhaps this is
the reason we write,

because sometimes,
words breathe better
than we can.”

—Maza Dohta

To Your New Love

If she asks you
If she asks you who I am, tell her. Tell her
because she is not starting a fire for an explanation but a confession.

If you tell her I was just a girl you dated
for a couple of years, she will only give you a hard time.
The hundreds of photos tagged in your outdated profile and the stack
of books with our names written will be her allies.

If you tell her I was an old friend, she will only hear
half of what you say. She will recall how you looked at places
with a tinge of regret and a shade of nostalgia. She will remember
how you skipped a certain song ― a reminder of something you’ll find an excuse
not to tell her every time the car radio is on.

The 5th of November

“Remember, remember, the Fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason and Plot. I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot… But what of the man? I know his name was Guy Fawkes and I know, in 1605, he attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament. But who was he really? What was he like? We are told to remember the idea, not the man, because a man can fail. He can be caught, he can be killed and forgotten, but 400 years later, an idea can still change the world.

I’ve witnessed first hand the power of ideas, I’ve seen people kill in the name of them, and die defending them… but you cannot kiss an idea, cannot touch it, or hold it… ideas do not bleed, they do not feel pain, they do not love… And it is not an idea that I miss, it is a man… A man that made me remember the Fifth of November. A man that I will never forget.”

– Evey Hammond, V for Vendetta

annual re-watching with hot cocoa ♥

Falling

“I love unmade beds. I love when people are drunk and crying and cannot be anything but honest in that moment. I love the look in people’s eyes when they realize they’re in love. I love the way people look when they first wake up and they have forgotten their surroundings. I love the gasp people take when their favorite character dies. I love when people close their eyes and drift to somewhere in the clouds. I fall in love with people and their honest moments all the time. I fall in love with their breakdowns and their smeared makeup and their daydreams. Honesty is just too beautiful to ever put into words.”

-Unknown