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“When people stop writing, it’s one of two things - they are either really fucking happy or broken beyond repair.”

— Ming D. Liu (via mingdliu)

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End Game.

End game. That’s what you are to me. Whether we grow old together and die with the most intense love I have ever had. Or if we drift away and you find a different path with someone new. You will always be my end game, you could leave me tomorrow and I would never feel this strong of love towards anyone else ever again. I know how that sounds because I am so young but you are my everything and I can’t thank you enough. You gave me what I always craved. End game.

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nobody’s perfect but you’re pretty fucking close,

like a book i cant put down, from your head to your toes.

I see the sunrise in your smile,

and many boops in your nose,

nobody’s perfect, but your perfection clearly shows.

Its a miracle we met, a miracle I accept.

And to give you up would be like giving up the internet,

Reciting backwards the alphabet,

Resolving America’s national debt.

Heaven has lent me an angel I bet.

and even at your worst, you’re still all I want.

you almost made me drop my croissant.

I want to trace constellations on your skin and watch the stars in your eyes,

Kiss you on the forehead and surprise you with five-guys.

Did you know you still give me butterflies?

My heart you have effectively burglarized.

I love you for everything that you are.

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ANNE CARSON

in the preface to Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides (2006);

personal photos, original edit

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As I Was Moving Ahead Occasionally I Saw Brief Glimpses of Beauty, Jonas Mekas (2000)

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baby! i look at you and my heart remembers the time when my atoms were a mossy log, all ray of sun. you make me remember a summer i never had. feel like a future where we live with our rescue dogs and greenhouses. make you more flower crowns. when i dance with you it feels easy, one-two-three. like kitchens are ballrooms.

i been lookin for ways to tell you i miss you but they always seem so silly. the glow of your eyes puts a sun in my spine. hearing you laugh is a meadow i never want to stop running in. i want to spend all my time finding ways to fill up your life. you’re warm cookies. good coffee at sunrise. a book and soft socks and rain on the rooftop. 

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David Jones, Love and Space Dust

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FULL POEM BELOW:

last summer

i met a boy

caramel eyes

messy hair

laughter

gave me

bicycle rides

butterflies

adventures

i didn’t tell him my name

but he told me his

i remember

we were young

young and hungry

ice cream dripping

down our elbows

we ran into the

sunflower fields

barefoot

flowers blooming

bees buzzing

salty mouths

gasping for air

the sun painted

everything yellow

but me

i was red

like a cherry

after

i kissed him

—mansi @thetypewriterdaily

(please don’t remove the credits if you use this, thank you. hope you have an amazing day)

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not to be dramatic but matthew gray gubler could literally do this to me any day 

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talkin’ love but i can’t even read the signs i would sell my soul for a bit more time

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@ mutuals

u look good