(via creationsings)
(via plainandsimplejeanine)
“
I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break. Even now, when people lean down to touch me, or hug me, or put a hand on my shoulder, I hold my breath. I turn my face. I want to cry.
Marya Hornbacher
(via fakeville)
(via rainydaysandblankets)
writing is safer, somehow
because my pen cannot stutter like my lips do,
and words get stuck in throats,
not fingertips, can’t stumble
on paper trails of blue lines
because writing is definite and clear
and no one can tell if i am crying
or laughing
through written words alone
(via hislivingpoetry)
(via m-ay30th)
(via euoria)
Note to myself.
(via ohitssparkling)
(via ohitssparkling)
“
I know it is very hard to accept a love without conditions,
but I know it exists:
that He loved me when I was useless to him.
Brooke Fraser
(via ironworthstriking)