xshe-wolfx
lips, rose petals, and blitzkrieg
"I am here, and I do not tread lightly." - poetinside
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having parents that were really angry and petty and abusive when you were young is weird, because it makes part of you grow up to want to be kind, to generate good things, to be a source of peace and wellbeing for others; but it makes another part of you grow up to be quick, and sharp, and spiteful, and that’s always the part that shows itself first in a hard situation, so it’s a struggle between your hateful gut reactions and your wish to not add any more misery to the world. it’s a hard balance, and the people who really, really know me - i know they see that anger flash in my eyes before i quiet it, if i quiet it…i want to overcome years of conditioning, and with gentle, constant force, i know i’ll mellow it. it just takes time.
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Teach me poetry by way of your smile, by the touch of your fingertips on my chest as you feel the echoing beats of your name. Let me write you in cursive by way of your body movements, as you dance ever so gracefully on canvas. I want to learn your lips by way of a kiss, that I may remember the feeling of your breath in my lungs that no wind can ever do. Let me learn the tears you have shed that I may paint love in colors, tangible and soothing for your soul.
The only way for me to learn you is to be with you // Pablo Verzosa (via thelyric)
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My head and the whole universe ache.
Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet (via sunst0ne)
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picture this: it’s autumn in new england. the two of you are stretched out on a blanket under a hundred trees alive with color. the crisp air fills your lungs. he’s looking at you & his eyes are smiling & you’ve never felt more alive in your whole life. you look at him & he leans over, brushes a hair out of your eyes. i’ll never leave you he says. he means it.
(via bees–poetry)
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