thedepthsofthreads

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:3

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please ignore anything I’ve ever said, I’d like to be mysterious again

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a man's "i'm not ready" is another man's "i knew the second i saw her"

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i read a quote about this recently from unknown and i relate so much.

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I wish I could call her…

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I’m searching for you.

I search in lyrics, between syllables, behind the unsaid. On my phone’s screen when it flickers to life from a notification. I search your name in other people’s stories. I search for you in me—and for me in you. I search. Now and then, I even search for myself. I look for my own reflection in the lens of your glasses. I search for how and where I fit into a life you’ve built. Into a story I don’t yet know my part in. Perhaps I’m searching for a part to play. I search for signs, for glances. This search is too much. I search for ways not to get hurt. Because the more I search, the more I forget to look ahead. I forget to count the odds, the risks, and the mistakes. And I’m usually good at counting— People, moments, myself. The counting stops when you enter the room. When that song plays— And when your name lights up my phone. If I remembered to count, I’d find that missing heartbeat That pulsed between your glance and your accidental touch.

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Donald Byrd on the “A” train, New York City, 1959 (William Claxton)

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my backyard angels

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Be the reason someone feels safe, seen, and supported.

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Only if I could.

I agree

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