"I am not one to talk soft.
I carry band-aids with me just in case
my warning signs are not out
and people slip and fall on my own wounds
deep as manholes.
Paper cuts are like toothaches
but with blood, and my neck is a whiskey bottle.
I get drunk out of placing my hands perfectly
on my lovers’ jaw and he sends me letters
when he leaves. It is always a goodbye
and I am not one to wear helmets
for anything, not even love.
I learned how to chew them
like the first candy you find
after a hunger strike. Yesterday,
I went to the grocery store and
the cashier, the old lady with a scarf,
the security guard asked me where you were.
I realized people still imagine me with you
and just like them I am still hoping
that some day, I will no longer have to."
Kharla M. BrilloGone Grocery Shopping (via pouvoires)

(via pouvoires)

"Come with every wound and every woman you’ve ever loved; every lie you’ve ever told and whatever it is that keeps you up at night. Every mouth you’ve punched in, all the blood you’ve ever tasted. Come with every enemy you’ve ever made and all the family you’ve ever buried and every dirty thing you’ve ever done; every drink that’s burnt your throat and every morning you’ve woken with nothing and no one. Come with all your loss, your regrets, sins, memories, black outs, secrets. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you"
– Warsan Shire (via avvfvl)

(Source: ragingcat, via avvfvl)

"Leaving is not enough. You must stay gone. Train your heart like a dog. Change the locks even on the house he’s never visited. You lucky, lucky girl. You have an apartment just your size. A bathtub full of tea. A heart the size of Arizona, but not nearly so arid. Don’t wish away your cracked past, your crooked toes, your problems are papier mache puppets you made or bought because the vendor at the market was so compelling you just had to have them. You had to have him. And you did. And now you pull down the bridge between your houses, you make him call before he visits, you take a lover for granted, you take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic. Make the first bottle you consume in this place a relic. Place it on whatever altar you fashion with a knife and five cranberries. Don’t lose too much weight. Stupid girls are always trying to disappear as revenge. And you are not stupid. You loved a man with more hands than a parade of beggars, and here you stand. Heart like a four-poster bed. Heart like a canvas. Heart leaking something so strong they can smell it in the street."
– Frida Kahlo to Marty McConnell by Marty McConnell (via seabois)

(via whispersofstardust)

"I could love you from here, I could love you from there, and I think I could love you from anywhere."
– T.B. LaBerge // Unwritten Letters to You (via tblaberge)