I think you get to the point where you’re so steeped in sadness you have nothing left to say. And if you ever want to say anything worthwhile and meaningful ever again, you need to stop being so sad and begin to heal.
THIS.
Exposure
She brushed against your arm in the grocery store and you were taken aback
Deep set under-eye circles painted your expression exhausted, irritable
But she brushed you in the store
Her arm against yours
And you were close enough to intake her hair’s enticing scent
Her skin’s softness
She turned quickly and apologised and you smiled sheepishly
And you felt something in that small moment that made you forget tiredness and frustration
You felt human
Reading Material
The Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory
The Shape of Water by Anne Spollen
Girl With a Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier
Wideacre by Philippa Gregory
Serena by Ron Rash
And several others
I CAN’T CHOOSE.
leporidae: What if I fell in love with your hands first? Setting aside the way in...
What if I fell in love with your hands first? Setting aside the way in which you speak, breathe, listen, to concentrate on each groove along the tip of your finger. There is rawness in perfect fluidity, poised as little birds, waiting to fly. My wrists trap me, and yet I feel you beneath my palms….
So achingly gorgeous
You hold a hand on your heart, not in salute, but protection. You scathe the bricks, trying to grab my attention while my eyes are surfing endless skies. You paint delicately over the careless scratches and bruises I ensue and tell me you love me. The abuser. You love me? And I fly out windows as you feel every pull, every struggle, every wind fist and still pull me into safe arms when I am tear ridden. Dear love, I break my heart open for you and you alone to see.
Your winter hands grip tightly the soles of my feet
The roots of my hair
The pupil of my eye
Everything you touch turns to ice
Tumblr Crushes:
- roggyscanvas
- sad-eyedlady
- vatnsmelona
- writingsforwinter
- moderateclimates
- ambiguous-transparency
- lautan
- my-pen-is-a-pistola
- the-saddest-landscape
These people are right dapper!
Roggy, I think this means I’m in love with you?
I should probably pack some more, but instead I’m moping and listening to pretty, sad melodies.
Every ounce of me screams flesh and none is not worth the only constant I know
The concave hollow of my chest that feels every echo of absence
The part that yearns to board a secret train to never return to the root of the tangles in my hands
I’d rather circle the world and find you on a different plane than to find you here in my arms with no desire to be there
