mywindowtears

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chillin but also seconds away from bursting into tears

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Fatima Aamer Bilal, "We were put on this earth desperate, hungry and willing."

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being alive is like: you want to go home. you don't know where home is. you want to go home. you don't know where home is. you want to go home. you haven't known for a long time. you want to go home but you don't know where you'd go. you want to go home you want to go home you want to go home

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“I had no language for what was passing through me.”

— Meena Alexander, from “Fault Lines,” originally published c. 1993 (via violentwavesofemotion)

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at the start of every month everyone reblogs some insane poetry that’s like “august has arrived and again I swallow my bones in the burning sun” and every time I’m like damn that makes no sense. but kind of true.

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they should invent a medicine that makes the aching jagged wound in your soul close

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𓇢𓆸

Make a wish!

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“flirting* if you had to kill me how would you do it

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it must feel so good to be some water molecule shaking in the microwave

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So I keep it, to myself— and it hurts.

Sylvia Plath

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Juansen Dizon, i am the architect of my own destruction

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musings on touch the hand has twenty-seven bones, natalie diaz haiku #11, tathev simonyan the touch, anne sexton isn’t the air also a body, moving?, natalie diaz ulysses, james joyce you are jeff, richard siken lady, i will touch you with my mind, e. e. cummings to your hands…, vahan teryan (translated by tathev simonyan) state of emergency, joy sullivan i was reading a scientific article, margaret atwood one of those kisses, viggo mortensen

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Gillian Flynn, Sharp Objects