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I listened to him talk about you like a piece of artwork. He said you wear a different color lipstick every day and he thought that nothing with you could possibly be boring, not even the boring things. He said he hates labels but if he had to give you one it’d be ‘rare.’ He talked about you like every girl everywhere wants to be talked about and you have no idea and you wouldn’t even care. But that’s because every guy everywhere talks about you like that, isn’t it? Except for the one you want.
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Maybe my heart is waiting for someone to fill it with words. Then maybe, I can learn to write again.
Thoughts and Constellations
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When I was sixteen, I fell in love with the idea of love and this blindly led me to someone who was not even worth a single glance never mind months of my time but he told me all the sweet things I wanted to hear and I stuck around for the false sense of validation. Months passed and it was too late before I realised the love I was drinking from was laced with shards of selfishness and manipulation. He didn’t love me; he loved the way my naive submissiveness fed his ego. I let him in and he locked the doors and tried to repaint my once yellow walls to shades that led to me not being able to recognise my own shadow. When I was eighteen, rebuilt and glowing once again, I promised myself I would never let my longing to be loved lead to heartbreak again. I built walls ten foot high that ran for miles and miles and kept any potential love interest at arms length, afraid to suffer again. But then I met a boy who took his time to earn my trust. We started out as friends; exchanging messages for hours at a time and before we knew it, months had passed and although unspoken, we both thought of each other as a safe place. We shared similar dreams. Goals. Music. Perspectives. I thought I was lucky; one of those people who meet their soul mate while young. I was led to believe, after a year, that he might just be the one I marry. I was exploding with excitement and hopes for our potential. I thought I could share anything with him but when I did- when I shared the most important part of my heart he had ever come to hear, he heard me but he didn’t listen and ran for the hills. Now, three months before my twenty first birthday, I look back on these past two heartbreaks with a scarred heart full to the brim with gratefulness. I am content and joyous because what I did not realise during these dark times is that life was preparing me for the love of my life. The introduction of seemingly perfect matches was to show me that the person I would marry will be unlike any pre-planned criteria I had in my head and that he would cradle my heart so carefully it would make me feel re-born again. Indeed, he will not be perfect but I will love the imperfect parts of him a little extra and wrestle him to the bed with loving arms and kisses when he dwells on them. He does not have either the hair nor eyes younger me pictured but they have grown to become my favourite colours. He loves me both selflessly and unconditionally and never expects a single kiss in return- although I do so anyway. He fills my glass before his own and insists on giving me his jacket when I am too stubborn to bring my own. He can tell when I am sad without me breathing a single word. He takes on my pain when I am struggling and goes out of his way to make me laugh and show me that he is on my team. He is gentle and patient, kind and strong willed- hilarious and crazy. But most importantly of all, he accepts me for who I am. He knows all my fears, worries, dreams, struggles, likes and dislikes and chooses to love me anyway. He remembers small details anyone else would forget. Sometimes I look at him in complete awe and he looks back with so much love in his eyes it genuinely chokes me and I have to take a moment before talking or else I will be pushed to tears. I did not ask him to prove to me that loving again would be worth it but he took it upon himself to do so without asking permission. To this day, he continues to go out of his way to remind me that I am more than what I have grown up to believe and because of him, I am confident what it means to love and be loved in equal measures and I can say, hand on heart, that I have never experienced such peace- like that moment when you first dive under water and everything silences; it just stops. Time escapes. Worries wash away. There is a warmth that cannot be explained. I, myself, have never been a religious person but each night before I sleep, I find myself desperately praying for as many years as possible so that I can continue loving this man exactly the way he deserves. And then I sleep, soundly, without a single worry about the next life knowing we will always make our way back to one another in the end.
(via velcroheartstrings)
this is everything.
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Prelude to a Wedding Vow
Hello.
Who knew a single world could carry hope and spark a thousand beginnings? I don't know if we already had our moment of hello or if it's still in the future. I don't know if that one hello started a friendship or immediately ignited a fire. No one really knows. But all this not knowing, this ambiguity, is preparing me for something great that is you.
Love, like almost everything else in life, is uncertain, unpredictable. That's what I hope to find in you. I don't want ours to be perfect, I want it to be real. I know you're not perfect and neither am I but I hope we'll love each other all the same. Or better yet, I hope we'll love the other for that - that despite all the imperfections, there is still that one person we're willing to love no matter what. I know there will be days when we will hate each other but I hope we both hold on to the promise that our love is stronger than that. I know there will be trust, hope and faith as much as there will be doubt, fear, and mistakes. I know you will never be the guy I wanted you to be but that doesn't make you anything less. I know you'll be the best, not for other people, but for me. There will be times when we will feel ultimately lucky to have found a love like ours but there will also be times when we will question the decisions we've made. We will begin to wonder about the what ifs, the should have beens, the if onlys. But no matter what, always know that despite everything that happened in the past, despite the many chances we didn't take, we ended up with each other. God has a reason for that. I chose you and I know deep down that I always will. I hope you will too.
You're probably wondering why I'm writing this letter to you. Think of this as a prelude to my wedding vow. I'm writing this so that one day, when we look back on all that has happened, when we’re having a fight or  when you have forgotten all the reasons why you're where you are, you will remember that there was once a girl who was thinking about you, missing you, and waiting for the day when you will finally come.
— to the one i have yet to meet // thoughts and constellations
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“Wait for someone who, through their actions, shows you that to be vulnerable is a beautiful thing. I know. I know- that all your life you have shyed away from allowing yourself to feel in extremes in fear of puncturing your heart but when it comes to the person you will marry, I promise you that letting them see all facets will only enable them to love you deeper. Encased in such security, you will find that your pent up emotions will flow like wind blows and whether your tears are a consequence of joy or sadness, your safety net will be on their knees ready to catch it all regardless. Wait for that- the person who will hold your hand a little tighter when they can sense you are fearful. The one who will take their time to kiss your forehead when they see your eyes waver like black clouds close to a downpour. Someone who will hold you closer when your silence sings songs of sadness. The person worth waiting for will feel the depths of your heart as deeply as if it was their own. Your soul may be tired, my love but I must ask you to wait just a little while longer and resist settling for anyone who does not stay to love you harder in times of great distress.”
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I love listening to your voice. It reminds me of warm sunlight and coffee in the morning.
Thoughts and Constellations
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my book
By “book”, I mean a compilation of 79 free verse poetry and prose pieces dating from May of 2018 to March of 2019.
Title: I WANT TO BE SO AWFULLY HAPPY THAT I NEVER NEED TO WRITE POETRY AGAIN.
I’ll send you a FREE PDF copy if you:
1. Send me your email address and tumblr URL (fingers crossed you’re following my blog but also I need to follow new writing/art blogs); 2. Let me know what you think after reading it (please & thank you!); and 3. Do NOT know me personally (most important criteria)
For more background on this compilation, click here: XxXxX
For those who would like to send any amount for the book, click here: XxXxX
I’ll be taking note of those interested and will start sending out copies on April 22, 2019. 
- MJL
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“How beautiful to find a heart that loves you, without asking you for anything, but to be okay.”
— Khalil Gibran
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“I can be someone’s and still be my own.”
— Shel Silverstein
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“I am homesick for a place I am not sure even exists. One where my heart is full. My body loved. And my soul understood.”
— Unknown
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“I enjoy controlled loneliness. I like wandering around the city alone. I’m not afraid of coming back to an empty flat and lying down in an empty bed. I’m afraid of having no one to miss, of having no one to love.”
— Kuba Wojewódzki (via quotemadness)
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“There’s an emptiness inside me that only you can fill.”
— Thoughts and Constellations
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i am unaffected by “your flaws are beautiful” rhetoric. i appreciate the care behind it; that a person wanted me to feel better enough they’d lie to me and try to deny me access to ugly. 
but there are things about me that are ugly. i live in society, i know the rules and where i fall short of them. i know about my arm jiggle and the scars and the bad skin and the square fingernails. i know about them.
i find these body-positive pieces odd to read, you know. they still put me into little parts: my frizzy hair, my crooked nose, the rest of me. they list possibly ugly categories; stretch marks, freckles, teeth.
but i don’t really care about that? i don’t really care about the reception of my body? either you’re going to find me beautiful or ugly or somewhere in between.
i want to be body-positive in the sense that you don’t point out my flaws, because it’s fucking mean. that you let me live in my silk robes and sweatpants equally.
you’ve got a body and it exists. it might not be flawless. it might not be beautiful. but it deserves to exist in the way you want it to exist. it deserves to be ugly without punishment. you deserve to be judged by the quality of your person instead of the skin you’re in. you deserve to be a person, wholly, without regard to appearances. 
physical form is annoying. i’m looking to return mine and get a refund. but there are beautiful things about it that aren’t beautiful aesthetically. it’s beautiful when i kiss somebody. when i touch softness. when an animal sits on your lap. it’s beautiful when i catch something out of the air and everyone in the room goes crazy; it’s beautiful to be outside when a thunderstorm is coming. it’s beautiful to exist in the sense that i wouldn’t know about a sunset without it. 
you might not be beautiful. who cares. your experiences are what’s worth it, not your body. new music is worth it, art is worth it, a book you haven’t written yet is worth it. you’re worth loving not because someone can add up the parts of you and forgive the flaws. you’re worth loving because you’re in this world, that’s all. 
i’m happy people find strength in body positivity. i’m happy there are people out there kind enough to be trying, who endlessly compliment things. maybe i’m just jaded and mean.
i don’t need to be lied to, you know? no matter how many times you tell me that my body is beautiful, it won’t change how people see me. what matters is how i see myself, and i want to be more than beautiful. i want to be smart, and kind, and better at maths. some things are ugly. but i love ugly sweaters and ugly socks and ugly dogs. and i love them regardless. 
sometimes love makes things beautiful by default. when you love yourself, you see beautiful as a result. i feel like this process is reversed, somehow: if we tell you you’re beautiful enough, you’ll find love. it’s an equation that can’t always go in that direction, you know? at least i think, i’m bad at maths, so.
be ugly. who cares. but go find beautiful things to experience. the first snow and wedding invitations and eating a whole loaf of good french bread. i’m ugly, okay.
but i’m learning to be fine with it.
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So, if you are too tired to speak, sit next to me because I, too, am fluent in silence.
R. Arnold (via theglasschild)
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I know you can swim. But, boy, I’ll drown you in poetry.
MJL (via mimickingmaelstroms)
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But I don’t want small talk. Text me, and without saying hello, tell me why you got so angry at your sister this morning. Tell me why you have a scar shaped like Europe on the left side of your neck. Send me paragraphs about the time you spent at your grandmother’s house that one summer. Call me when I’m half asleep and tell me why you believe in God. Tell me about the first time you saw your dad cry. Go on for hours about things that may not seem important because I promise that I’ll be hanging on to every word you say. Tell me everything. I don’t want someone who just talks about the weather.
endlessfreethrows (via endlessfreethrows)
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If you take the risk and open your heart to me, I will keep it safe.
Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)
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