No Strings Attached
so we made a thing
oh my god hahahaha
I will learn how to listen to my body,
How to feed her when she’s hungry
And not when she is bored, or lonely.
This year is about putting away apologies—
Shaking the old dust out of my bones,
Getting rid of people and places
That have stopped feeling like home.
This year is about the deep kind of soul searching
Reserved for brooding men in classic literature.
This year is for falling in love with all the ways
I am able to feel.
My world is vibrant and alive
And to numb myself would be to waste this body
To waste this breath.
Somewhere, billions of years ago,
A star died to put the marrow in my bones
And I ought to make good use of that.
I am the result of ten million factors all
Working against me ever coming into existence
And I am here anyway.
How could I forget that the same skin
That houses all my anxieties also holds
The same kind of rain that fills oceans?
I have a small lightning storm brewing
In the barrel of my ribs,
How could I forget that?
This year, I will be kind to my body,
Because she has always been kind to me.
Because she has entire orchestras beneath her fingernails,
And after so many years,
She deserves a good audience.
I am too young to feel so old.
This is the year I change that. ❞
This Year, by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)
played again and again and again…
Wounds don’t heal the way you want them to, they heal the way they need to. It takes time for wounds to fade into scars. It takes time for the process of healing to take place.
Give yourself that time. Give yourself that grace. Be gentle with your wounds. Be gentle with your heart. You deserve to heal. You have a right to know peace in your skin.❞
Grey’s Anatomy (via anditslove)
I went on again and again
until my knees shook.
You were the lucky dip
I was actually happy with,
you were tinsel in April
and the first time I ever
experienced a sun shower.
You were the beautiful thing lying
next to me the next morning
which I didn’t dare regret.
When the memory of you hurts
like a needle entering the most
supple of skin, I think of how
there will be someone else
who can make my bones shiver,
who can turn me on and off
like a flickering bathroom light.
I think of how the
yellow maple leaves
will be here soon and that
there is always snow
falling somewhere. ❞
jessica therese, “It Is Always Snowing, Somewhere” (via contramonte)