je ne savais pas


“I am made for autumn. Summer and I have a fickle relationship, but everything about autumn is perfect to me. Wooly jumpers, Wellington boot, scarves, thin first, then thick, socks. The low slanting light, the crisp mornings, the chill in my fingers, those last warm sunny days before the rain and the wind. Her moody hues and subdued palate punctuated every now and again by a brilliant orange, scarlet or copper goodbye. She is my true love.” ― Alys Fowler






for the fifth time this month
you say you’re going to leave him
he calls you a cunt over the phone
then walks the three miles to your house
and kisses your mouth until the word is just
a place on your body.
i don’t know what brings broken people together
maybe damage seeks out damage
the way stains on a mattress halo into one another
the way stains on a mattress bleed into each other.
— Warsan Shire  (via 5000letters)

so this is how it begins—
everything starts to look like
a clenched fist—even the stars.
and then your mouth starts to fill with
something that tastes like shame.
this isn’t the way you were supposed to live.
your mouth wasn’t made to say the words
"i can’t go on anymore," and you know that,
but knowing just isn’t enough sometimes.
you forget the time somebody told you that
your hair looked great. instead, you remember
the chafing feeling in your stomach
when you were the only person who wasn’t
called to come out that saturday evening with your friends.
you feel like you’re drifting through your own life
like you’re a visitor or worse, a phantom,
and you try to find somebody with hands bigger than yours.
well don’t.
don’t do that.
don’t hold somebody simply because
they are the closest thing you have to a gun,
or because the fist at the end of their words
lets you dwell in a pain less awful to the one
that’s gnawing at the bones in your arms.
but don’t get the wrong idea here.
this isn’t a song telling you to stand up and fight,
there are enough of those.
this is a song saying that sometimes we fall apart—
it’s saying that sometimes it’s what we do best,
but it’s saying that sometimes it doesn’t have to be.
— Salma Deera, “A Song About Falling Apart” (via writingwillows)


The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy that loves you.
Markus ZusakThe Book Thief (via feellng)

Love those who hurt you the most, because they are probably the ones closest to you. They, too, are on a path, and just like you they are learning to walk before they can fly. Imagine if everybody you hurt in life turned their backs on you? You would be playing a hell of a lot of solitaire. Love them no matter what.

If you’ve been up all night and cried till you have no more tears left in you - you will know that there comes in the end a sort of quietness. You feel as if nothing was ever going to happen again.
— C.S. Lewis (via wordsthat-speak)

Nobody will protect you from your suffering. You can’t cry it away or eat it away or starve it away or walk it away or punch it away or even therapy it away. It’s just there, and you have to survive it. You have to endure it. You have to live through it and love it and move on and be better for it and run as far as you can in the direction of your best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by your own desire to heal.
— Cheryl Strayed, Tiny Beautiful Things (via quotethat)

My nerves are bad tonight. Yes, bad. Stay with me.
Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak.
What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?

I never know what you are thinking. Think.

— T.S. Eliot, from The Waste Land  (via violentwavesofemotion)

Growing is knowing when you’ve fucked up and realising you’re human and everyone fucks up from time to time. So it’s ok, say sorry, try to fix it and try not to fuck up again.
— House Of Hippies (via thehouseofhippies)

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