- You plant fresh, cocaine kisses like crosses on my hips. Each one lays the memory of someone else’s body to rest. I am an addict constantly looking for a fix of you. One taste of you and I’m out for the weekend, exploring the different ways your tongue moves in sun and moonlight. You’re not like the others. You outweigh any metaphor. I try writing a love poem for you and come up choking on your lips, your hair, your hips. You are the poem I will spend my entire life trying to write. Lora Mathis
- I love like a leaky faucet or I love like a dam breaking. There is nothing in between. Shinji Moon
- The body shuts down when it has too much to bear; goes its own way quietly inside, waiting for a better time, leaving you numb and half alive. Jeanette Winterson
- I loved you before I ever touched you.
- I knew the second I met you that there was something about you I needed. Turns out it wasn’t something about you at all. It was just you. Jamie McGuire
- I saw him hip-deep in some icy water, chasing a book, and I saw a boy lying in bed, imagining how a kiss would taste from his glorious next-door neighbour. He does something to me, that boy. Every time. It’s his only detriment. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry. Markus Zusak
- I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. It’s hard to put into words, but I guess it’s like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling. Haruki Murakami
- Love doesn’t just sit there, like a stone, it has to be made, like bread; remade all the time, made new. Ursula K. Le Guin
- If passion was a substance I would say it is dark brown, and then blood red. It’s like wet grass, tons of it soaked in mud. It’s warm and it stinks like shit and it’s unaccountably and endlessly good. It’s thick and it goes on for miles and it isn’t so much deep as bottomless and it holds you in its grip, you never drown. And then it goes. That’s all you know. Eileen Myles
- I’ve stopped being sorry for all my soft. I won’t apologise because I miss you, or because I said it, or because I text you first, or again. I think everyone spends too much time trying to close themselves off. I don’t want to be cool or indifferent, I want to be honest. If I love you at 5AM, I’d damn well rather that you know I felt it. If I love you two hours later, I’ll tell you then too. Listen, I won’t wait double the time it takes for you to text me back because I don’t want to. I don’t care enough to be patient with you. I’m happy, you made me feel that way, don’t you want to know? So that’s how it’s going to be. I’m going to leave myself as open as a church door. And I’m going to wake you up before the crack of dawn to tell you that I’m fucking joyful, no pretending, not from me, not ever. Would you like some coffee, would you please kiss me? Here, these are my hands, this is my mouth, it is all yours. Azra.T
- A single dream is more powerful than a thousand realities. J.R.R. Tolkien
- I want to see him. I want to see him so badly I could die. That’s the only thing that seems certain. It’s the only thing I can say with confidence. Haruki Murakami
- I wrote a poem about it, and then threw it away, because that’s the last thing I need right now: More words dedicated to people who will never dedicate a single thing to me.
- Someone can be madly in love with you and still not be ready. They can love you in a way you have never been loved and still not join you on the bridge. And whatever their reasons you must leave. Because you never ever have to inspire anyone to meet you on the bridge. You never ever have to convince someone to do the work to be ready. There is more extraordinary love, more love that you have never seen, out here in this wide and wild universe. And there is the love that will be ready. Nayyirah Waheed
- I give a fuck. I give lots of fucks, actually. I’m a prostitute of feelings.
- There are songs that still feel like your teeth on my neck. Clementine von Radics
- I see you everywhere, in the stars, deep in the river, to me you’re everything that exists; the reality of everything. Virginia Woolf
- Quiet people have the loudest minds. Stephen Hawking
- How many pains make an agony? Robert Frost
- Some periods of our growth are so confusing that we don’t even recognize that growth is happening. We may feel hostile or angry or weepy and hysterical, or we may feel depressed. It would never occur to us, unless we stumbled on a book or a person who explained to us, that we were in fact in the process of change, of actually becoming larger, spiritually, than we were before. Whenever we grow, we tend to feel it, as a young seed must feel the weight and inertia of the earth as it seeks to break out of its shell on its way to becoming a plant. Often the feeling is anything but pleasant. But what is most unpleasant is the not knowing what is happening. Those long periods when something inside ourselves seems to be waiting, holding its breath, unsure about what the next step should be, eventually become the periods we wait for, for it is in those periods that we realize that we are being prepared for the next phase of our life and that, in all probability, a new level of the personality is about to be revealed. Alice Walker
feb 7 2014 ∞
mar 30 2014 +
mar 30 2014 +