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"Loving me will not be easy. Some days I will be a stuttering apology and you won’t know how to handle all the things I’ve done wrong."
— writingsforwinter
(Source: emceelizziegibson, via loveyourchaos)
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"The moon lives in the lining of your skin."
— Pablo Neruda
(Source: seabois, via mhmcasajess)
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IT ANNOYS ME TO NO END THAT PEOPLE GET ALL UP IN ARMS WHEN SOMEONE TALKS ABOUT FEMINISM AND THEY GET THAT LOOK IN THEIR EYE LIKE “OH GOD HERE WE GO AGAIN” YEAH HERE WE FUCKING GO AGAIN I’M GOING TO BEAT YOU WITH A BOX OF TAMPONS AND SOME BRAS IF YOU KEEP PATRONIZING A MOVEMENT THAT EXISTS BECAUSE YOU ROLL YOUR EYES WHEN I TALK ABOUT EQUALITY
(Source: framesjanco, via amniote)
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"You will hear thunder and remember me, and think: she wanted storms."
— Anna Akhmatova
(Source: larmoyante, via loveyourchaos)
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"the car is full of fog
you put the joint back in
your mouth and breathe it in
this time I will let him touch me
and there is no guilt, no half-swallowed apology
no echoes of the others who
came before him
you open your mouth and he is
there, covering it with his,
breathing more fog for you
to swallow
and it is hard to see, but you know,
you know
you can taste it on his tongue
you can see it in his eyes
the promise written in red
I won’t hurt you, I would sooner die, I would sooner die
the fog rises and rain is dripping down your backsides
skin sticking to the leather seats
like melting popsicles in the sun
it’s still love even if it sounds dirty
even if it is in the backseat of his car
it still tastes just as sweet
here is your scripture,
carved down his spine with your fingers:
he is not everyone I’ve ever loved. Even though I am full of smoke and air, he does not hold me like a ghost"
you put the joint back in
your mouth and breathe it in
this time I will let him touch me
and there is no guilt, no half-swallowed apology
no echoes of the others who
came before him
you open your mouth and he is
there, covering it with his,
breathing more fog for you
to swallow
and it is hard to see, but you know,
you know
you can taste it on his tongue
you can see it in his eyes
the promise written in red
I won’t hurt you, I would sooner die, I would sooner die
the fog rises and rain is dripping down your backsides
skin sticking to the leather seats
like melting popsicles in the sun
it’s still love even if it sounds dirty
even if it is in the backseat of his car
it still tastes just as sweet
here is your scripture,
carved down his spine with your fingers:
he is not everyone I’ve ever loved. Even though I am full of smoke and air, he does not hold me like a ghost"
