heart leaking something so strong they can smell it in the street //

you and me and
never us:
a complicated
series of
almost interactions.

Platonic love has always felt stronger than romantic love because that’s what constructs our core. You had no selfish reasons to put up with my fuck ups but you put up with them anyway because you loved me and I loved you back.

That dream was so surreal, but I was so happy, with you.

leaving is not enough; you must
stay gone. train your heart
like a dog. change the locks
even on the house he’s never
visited. you lucky, lucky girl.
you have an apartment
just your size. a bathtub
full of tea. a heart the size
of Arizona, but not nearly
so arid. don’t wish away
your cracked past, your
crooked toes, your problems
are papier mache puppets
you made or bought because the vendor
at the market was so compelling you just
had to have them. you had to have him.
and you did. and now you pull down
the bridge between your houses.
you make him call before
he visits. you take a lover
for granted, you take
a lover who looks at you
like maybe you are magic. make
the first bottle you consume
in this place a relic. place it
on whatever altar you fashion
with a knife and five cranberries.
don’t lose too much weight.
stupid girls are always trying
to disappear as revenge. and you
are not stupid. you loved a man
with more hands than a parade
of beggars, and here you stand. heart
like a four-poster bed. heart like a canvas.
heart leaking something so strong
they can smell it in the street.

“A letter from Frida Kahlo to Marty McConnell” by Marty McConnell

qnarl-y:

woah.

qnarl-y:

woah.

We looked at each other a little too long to be “just friends”.

i want to make something abundantly clear:

i put the details of my life that i CHOSE to share on a public blog that is read by a fair amount of people. i do this knowing that people will be critical of it, because that’s human nature. i am fully conscious of that fact and i accept it as an inevitable downside to what is otherwise a really positive creative space for me.

that being said, those of you who think that just from reading my blog you know enough about me or my friends to make direct statements to me, or to them, about your perceptions of our life and what we “should” or “should not” be doing are VERY out of line 

not a single one of you has the authority or credibility to discern whether or not my lifestyle is the right one for me. i want everyone to know very clearly that the aspects of my life i chose to make public are not the whole picture. no one here is my mother, and more importantly, a lot of you are making it clear that you are not my friends. i don’t care what you think about me: you can respect me, or you can leave me alone. i am not fucking around. adios. 

When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it.

I missed you so much and I’ll see you in a few more months. Thank you for today. I wish we had more time.

dear ,
i love you more than anything
in the universe, and i want you
to know that that includes little 
local coffee shops and stamps
that can’t be found anywhere
but old corner stores where 
they should be worth hundreds
but they are sold for dimes and the
tails airplanes leave when they
are chasing bigger things
and i’ve heard that you’re doing
well and i want you to know that
i, too, am doing the best that
i can, especially on days when
i feel as if i have poured rocks
in through my ears and crawled
in with my underwear for a ride
in the washing machine.

dear ,
i love you more than anything that
i have in me and everything i have to offer
but i want you to know that i have
so much in me and i know you’re going
to pick through me bit by bit because
you are the one person that believes
there is a speck of gold amongst
the dust and coal that i am and 
no longer wish to be.”

I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds — but I think of you always in those intervals.

1. I don’t like folding laundry or talking about my emotions. I’m likely to leave both scattered all over.
2. I’m not much for cooking but there will always be coffee.
3. I’ll wear anything of yours with sleeves. I love when they’re long enough to wrap around my hands.
4. Sometimes the world is too harsh, too big. It’s hard to leave the house on days like those.
5. When I was sick as a kid my mom would run a bath for me and wash my hair. It was always so soothing. Maybe you could do that every once in a while.
6. I find it difficult to finish most things. My room is home to countless journals of incomplete thoughts.
7. I won’t love you any less in December. I think my heart just wasn’t meant for the cold.
8. I never truly know why I’m crying so don’t bother to ask, simply be there.
9. There’s whiskey in the medicine cabinet.
10. If things get terribly bad, please don’t give up. Get me in the car and drive to the sea. The waves beneath my toes will wake me up and I’ll be yours again.
written by Things to know before promising you’ll stay

edgebug:

instead of watching the 50 Shades trailer, why not just make awkward eye contact with a total stranger at the grocery store for a solid 2 minutes and 34 seconds? you get the same skin-crawling, uncomfortable feeling but without the shitty writing, terrible acting and massive dose of rape culture

I barely find anybody attractive. I barely feel an affection for anybody.. But when I do… I fall in so deep, so hard it’s ridiculous.
written by (via adopted-reject)