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the girl in bed
ArchiveMessageaboutDiaryHow to survive pt 1links

The day my favourite author died,
I wrote a poem about hands and
learned to love my own.

I swallowed morning like a pill
and washed it down with an afternoon
that ached of leaving.

I closed my eyes
between every conversation
and thought only of the oh damn,
the hell yeah of your spine.

I let the wind from an open window
knife me where only you had ever breathed.
I let every bus stop be home
and every cactus be a plant
worth holding to my bare chest.

The day my favourite author died,
I wondered if his hand had hung
off the side of the bed with opening lines
still curled in his wrinkles.

The day he died, my bravery
was born with a sputter and a cough
and an “I’m here now, please
use me.” And somewhere, you
yawned your way into someone else’s dreams.

Discovering Ice | Ramna Safeer (via inkywings)
Source: inkywings
Don’t let yourself feel worthless; often through life you will really be at your worst when you seem to think best of yourself; and don’t worry about losing your ‘personality,’ as you persist in calling it; at fifteen you had the radiance of early morning, at twenty you will begin to have the melancholy brilliance of the moon, and when you are my age you will give out, as I do, the genial golden warmth of 4pm.
This Side of Paradise, F. Scott Fitzgerald  (via aviolenthope)

(via tarahjewel)

Source: ekatherine
Writing isn’t the same as speaking, I struggle with conversation
— Alex Turner  (via aviolenthope)

(via tarahjewel)

Source:
sarahrain212:

Vogue Nippon March 2010 Anja Rubik
Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.
Neil GaimanThe Sandman, Vol. 9: The Kindly Ones  (via northwestsong)

(via tarahjewel)

Source: feellng
clavicula:

PABLO PICASSO, Head, 1948. Ink on paper.
A Meaningful Moment by Whitney Justesen on Flickr.
untitled by .littlegirlblue on Flickr.
untitled by hui+ on Flickr.
light self pt. III by kate.van.brocklin on Flickr.