I’m Not Even Kidding When I Say I Wish I Had A Friend That Wanted To Buy A House W Me

Attacked.

“The danger with the eloquent poetess is that she might turn herself into a beautiful disaster.”

—

“Your mind is a garden, plant flowers, not weeds. / Your thoughts are like water, as clear or murky as you allow them to be”

— (note to self)

𝖨𝖽𝖺 𝖱𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗎𝗅 𝖮𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝖾’𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 🧚 <3

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Everything in the rain becomes so much better? Like yes please I want you to take me on a date with the rain. Where there is only one umbrella but ample conversations and it's only there for the sake of holding hands, warm bodies pressed up together; soft breath fanning on my skin. The heady scent of the damp earth enveloping us. The sound of your laughter and the way you throw your head back, your eyes crinkling along with the pitter-patter of the rain and I swear I will fall in love with you if you ask me for a dance near a lone street in the middle of the night and if you press your soft lips to mine, in the cold wet rain. I honestly don't know what I would do.

I bet you rue the day you kissed the writer in the dark,

Now she's gonna play and sing and lock you in her heart.

- Writer in the dark, Lorde.

Why is it always what kind of music do you listen to and never let's make a playlist together :/

There is something so comforting about sitting at libraries late at night with a candle, while you gulp the pages of a book with a hungry fervour. You are so lost in a different world, for a while nothing matters except for the pains of your character and you don't even realise it's dawn. You haven't moved an inch, your back aches, your eyelids are drooping, but you feel this contentment in your chest, and god I would give anything to bring that feeling back.

The heart is the toughest part of the body. Tenderness is in the hands.

(from Carolyn Forché's The Country Between Us)

Hands are unbearably beautiful. They hold on to things. They let things go.

- Mary Reufle -

Take my hands in your hands, teach me to remember, teach me not to remember.

(from H.D.'s piece, "Helen in Egypt")

My hands wanted to touch your hands because we had hands.

(from Frank Bidart's poem, In the Western Light)

We held hands.

I was wondering what it would be like to have a home of your own where you could come and go, where people would be welcome, where you would never be frightened again.

-Jeanette Winterson, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal

Holding Hands- A Love Language