Stardustt-child - Those Stars Man

I look at the cover of our love story and acknowledge that there will never be another one quite like it, and I make peace with it.

c.e.

sexting

boy: you like that? me, sitting on the hardwood floor with a face mask on, eating salt and vinegar chips, making mac and cheese: yes

are we just gonna ignore the fact that charlotte and twincer fucked w so many IRRELEVANT PPL THAT DONT MEAN SHIT IN THE END

You have to learn how to forgive the people who have broken your heart, even if they never gave you an apology.

the hardest lesson to learn // excerpt from a book i’ll never write #106 (via a-laa-mode)

So this is the end. Or this is the beginning. If I cut my hair off and buy new lipstick, it almost doesn’t feel like starting over.

Trista Mateer (via halfgirlhalfasleep)

i think the weirdest thing is having left over information about someone. like i still know someone’s favorite girl name. or their favorite season. or someone’s address. i remember someone’s favorite ice cream flavors. and someone’s favorite childhood book. and the mental disorder their uncle has. i remember the ages and birthdays of their siblings. i remember the song they said they’d sing to their spouse. where do i put this down? where do i learn to forget?

Your first love ending is the feeling of the car door slamming on your fingers, and as it drives away with your half-ended tendons, you can’t help but think about how beautifully the light reflects off the hood. Your first love leaving is the sound the paintbrush makes as it cracks into two pieces right before the brushstroke that makes an artwork into a masterpiece. Your first love hurting you is the rush of the water down the bathtub drain, sinking sinking sinking like a pile of stones in the pit of your stomach, before disappearing forever simply because you no longer think about it. Your final love is the feeling of a symphony orchestra playing your heartstrings like a harpsichord to the tune of the song that never fails to turn your lover’s lips upwards like a sunset that happened to flip itself on its back to reveal its pink belly to the world. Your final love is the sound of the robins singing their good mornings outside the bedroom window as you open your eyes against their neck at the crack of dawn, before pulling them closer and slipping back under. Your final love leaving is with a note that says “see you tonight for dinner, I love you, be safe” and you tuck it in your breast pocket because that’s the closest you can touch it to your heart and you start heating up the oven because you are so excited to kiss their cheeks that night.

1:28 AM: THE FUTURE (k.p.k)

i love everything about the way you make me fall apart, it’s been 2 whole years and it still stings when you don’t call but i haven’t lost my grip the way i thought i was suppose to, and i haven’t forgotten the way you tasted, and you haven’t stop coming back around at the most inconvenient times, because for some reason we love the burn, we love the way it hurts to see each other in someone else’s arms, we love the way we always end up back together.

(via weallwritealong)

for far more than i knew poetry was nothing more than a home i created as the only way to still be close to you

k.m (via fluohrine)