yourmuse-writes

[yourmuse-writes]

"I don't know where I am. That is the exact thing that makes all of this hard; it's because I don't know where I am, and if I don't know that, I don't know which way is out."

- I can only remember how I fell in

[yourmuse-writes]

“The thing you are most afraid to write. Write that.”

— Nayyirah Waheed

[yourmuse-writes]

write about how you feel and what’s tormenting you—write it out of your system, July 5, 1903 [From Lou Andreas-Salomé to Rainer Maria Rilke] Rilke and Andreas-Salomé: a love story in letters (1897-1926)

[yourmuse-writes]

The world is violent and mercurial — it will have its way with you. We are saved only by love — love for each other and the love that we pour into the art we feel compelled to share: being a parent; being a writer; being a painter; being a friend. We live in a perpetually burning building, and what we must save from it, all the time, is love.

Tennessee Williams

[yourmuse-writes]

[yourmuse-writes]

I want to rest. I want to breathe quietly again.

Tennessee Williams / A Streetcar Named Desire

[yourmuse-writes]

I feel myself shutting down, closing off, like I should tell people, ‘No, we don’t use this heart anymore. It’s too fragile.’

Courtney C. Stevens

[yourmuse-writes]

Charles Baudelaire, from a letter featured in The Selected Letters of Charles Baudelaire

[yourmuse-writes]

[yourmuse-writes]

Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.

Kait Rokowski

[yourmuse-writes]

[yourmuse-writes]

Rachel Gillig, The Knight and the Moth

[yourmuse-writes]

"Should I be afraid of losing any more?"

- Lunch Meat

[yourmuse-writes]

For peace to exist there must be some brutality.

- anyways, it's tomorrow again

[yourmuse-writes]

[yourmuse-writes]

"Take nothing for yourself. Take nothing but the skin on your back. You're lucky enough to be left with this."

- Lunch Meat

[yourmuse-writes]

I was choking, when I looked ahead of me and saw you were right there choking along side me too. It wasn't until I looked to find your hands to hold them so we could go peacefully together that I realized they were already occupied with a tight grip around my neck. Then I saw mine on yours. And I could not tell who put whose hand out to kill first, neither could I decipher which one of us was acting in self defense. Maybe it was all self defense and no one was wrong, and everyone was at the same time. Isn't that love. Isn't that our love.

- self preservation