words – Page 49 – darknesstohislight

How cruel, your veins are full of ice-water and mine are boiling.

Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

Soon I’ll grow up, and I won’t even flinch at your name.

Alanis Morissette (via jailor)

i don’t write as much as i used to these days. my words are tired and my dreams faded, like rain swallowed whole on a dark night. i chase strangers in daydreams and fall asleep on buses with my eyes wide open, chewing gum to keep my jaw busy. i saw your hands on a stranger the other day and they were so foreign, it killed me. it killed me.

Before I am your daughter,
your sister,
your aunt, niece, or cousin,
I am my own person,
and I will not set fire to myself
to keep you warm.

(via ehmrahld)

Source: egracely

And it has been
one hell
of a year.
I have worn
the seasons
under my sleeves,
on my thighs,
running down my cheeks.
This is what
surviving
looks like, my dear.

Michelle K., It Has Been One Hell of a Year (via ameliespoulain)

Source: michellekpoems

This is my curse.
I will love you over and over again
Take one life’s worth of love
Build upon it a thousand more
And I will fill myself of you

Until I break at the seams

But you will not remember

And I will regret.

n.t. (via bishopskate)

Source: astrasperas

We searched for each other
in the most unlikely places,
among the most unlikely people,

and when our paths finally crossed,
it was for reasons so entangled
in our daily bread,
and the usual trespasses

that we might not even have noticed,
except for that faint quiver of wonder
like a passing chill from the night air.

We loved

and the closest we’ve come to explaining why,
is because it was you,
and because it was I.

Linda Goodman, “The Fish Meets the Water Bearer” (via oofpoetry)

Source: oofpoetry

I have so much of you in my heart.

John Keats, from a letter to Fanny Brawne (via lucreza)

Source: larmoyante

I’ve always loved the idea of not being what people expect me to be.

Dita Von Teese (via wanduring)