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Marianne Moore

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crash // eden

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“When you start liking pain, things start to get interesting.”

— Jenny Holzer, Inflammatory Essays and Survival Tips

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It was Sunday and I wanted to scoop her into my mouth with my bare hands, drag her to my lips, get drunk in her. It was Sunday and when she laughed like that I wanted to snatch the sound out of the air and paint myself with it, wanted to tattoo it on a city block, wanted to paste it into my palms for Bible readings. it was Sunday, day of rest, Lord’s day, and good Lord, but did she make a heaven from a bed.

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We all have one person who hurt us so much, that it changed us forever.

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“You don’t know distance until you’ve shared your bed with someone who’s falling out of love with you.”

— Beau Taplin

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Be sad but get up. You don’t have to shower. You can put on the same clothes you wore yesterday. Nobody will care. The sky is blue, wildflowers are blooming by the side of the road. Strangers have stories to tell. Go for a walk, go for a drive, go to a greenhouse, a bookstore, a movie theater. You can stay in bed but nothing is going to happen there. Sometimes you’ve really just got to get the fuck up.

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I’ve never belonged anywhere I’m always just in between

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“I remember that night in flashbacks. Like a movie. I slowly drowned in a river and my body wasn’t found until the sun hit my shining smile where people miles away could see it, Because even though you killed me I was happy it was you. If I got to die it was privilege that you were the one who did it. You made it quick You held your breath in and you spoke about the future and how much you loved the color blue but never about how much you loved me, And you breathed it out like it was the only sentence you knew “I don’t, and I won’t ever feel the same about you.” And I flatlined in your bedroom.”

— Don’t Forget to Tell My Mother 

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u ever seen someone SO ur type that ur blood pressure just drops

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To whoever loves me next, I’m sorry if I’m afraid of you or if days of flirting turn to radio silence, without warning. I’m sorry if I make you say the words over and over and over until I believe them. (I’m sorry if I don’t believe them.) I will probably spend more time worrying about losing you than I spend trying to keep you. Trouble is, every single time I’ve ever thought something was too good to be true– I’ve been right. Understand, I will know how to be vulnerable with you, but I won’t know how not to regret it. And I have no idea how deep we’ll be into this relationship before I admit I’ve never done this before. Not really. Not in any way that counts. Before I admit that I know how to put my body inside someone else’s but not how to make it beautiful. I probably won’t be easy to love. Too many people loved me badly, I’m not sure I know how to do it right.

Ashe Vernon (via thelovejournals)

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