Margaret Atwood, from True Stories: Poems; "Postcard," originally published in 1981
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Stop shaming people for being passionate about the things that they love. Stop mocking people for having unusual interests. Like, honestly, I’m so tired of feeling embarrassed for being "too much". If being too much means having deep interests that fill my life with romanticism and excitement, then let me be!! I’d much rather listen to anyone ranting about their latest obsession with 16th century swords than have a boring ordinary conversation with those who shame passionate people.
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You might not have been my first love but you were the love that made all other loves seem irrelevant.
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handwritten letters, old libraries, vintage aesthetic, neck kisses, coffee shops, rainy days, annotated books, unorganised bookshelf, fictional crushes, sleep deprived eyes, love poems for moon
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When your soul is longing for someone, it never goes away.
@connectingwithsoul
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"You are a museum. Some people will stay away cause they are simply not interested. Some will only explore the first floor because they find the whole thing intimidating. Some will only visit for the temporary exhibit and some will scan all the floors but won't learn any of the context. Only few will spend hours reading into the depths of what's on display and those are the ones who will cherish you."
– Written by "eviewhy" on Instagram
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Now the shame of it was that they loved each other. But they were both too young to know how to love. Full of doubt, he ran away.
hockey poetry post 113/?
― The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12
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A true gentleman knows.
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Margaret Atwood, from True Stories: Poems; "Variations of the word Love," originally published in 1981
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Sometimes I don't feel worthy of the love I receive
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I know where you are / with my eyes closed, we are bound to each other / with huge invisible threads,
Sharon Olds, Strike Sparks: Selected Poems 1980-2002; from ‘True Love’
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I miss you in ways i didn't know existed; you are a mental and a physical ache, a longing woven deep into my dna, and i don't know how to live like this.
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“Do you have any idea of how many little things remind me of you everyday?”
- S. C. C.
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