Our hummingbird hearts
found new forests to sing to,
and the years pulled us away
like dandelions finding
somewhere else to grow.
I know we’re not
supposed to tell each other
these things anymore,
but for what it’s worth,
I still listen for your voice.

For what it’s worth,
it still turns me into spring.
Y.Z, the truth after all this time (via rustyvoices)
You brave, brave thing.
One day, you’re going to
stop leaving the door open
for people who only know how
to keep leaving.
Yasmin Z, We’re All Still Learning (via larmoyante)
The roads between our houses collapse, and we make bridges out of apologies trying to reach each other again. The news reporter talks about the abandoned house that burst into flames last week, and we mourn each ghost like we loved them once. Like we danced with them once and our bodies have been aching ever since. We just wanted the wars to stop. We just wanted forgiveness on Sunday. We just wanted words and the right voices saying them. We kept convincing ourselves that we waited too long in the wrong doorways, but the truth is, we would have waited longer and that’s why all of this still hurts.
Y.Z, answering machine (via rustyvoices)
You used to believe in this city of miracles,
but that was three heartbreaks ago.
Since then,
it’s been sleeping with the windows open
hoping someone will hear
your heart breaking
from three doors down.
Since then,
it’s been thinking too long about
cashiers who ask you how your day’s been and
tell you to stay safe.
Since then,
it’s been setting the sky on fire
and dancing in the ash that follows.
Since then,
it’s been poetry you can’t understand
and poetry that rips you apart in the wrong places.
Since then,
it’s been
staying up at night to talk to your oldest mistake,
when you swear you’re just praying
out loud.
When you swear you’ve
moved beyond all of that.
Y.Z, how long’s it been since you’ve felt unhaunted? (via rustyvoices)
I rip you away
from me
like arms off
a rag doll body.
Like pieces of glass
from bleeding feet.
Like wood from
calloused hands.
It’s been so long,
and I can’t believe I’m still
falling apart over you.
Can’t believe your name
still fills my mouth like blood.
Still sits in my throat
until I can’t taste my own.
Y.Z, unforgiven hands (via rustyvoices)
I found you and burned all my
bridges, but I keep finding you
wandering yours. I can see you
crossing your fingers when you
tell me I’m it for you. I’m all in;
two hands, whole heart, fresh
page with just your name on the
top. I wish you’d just tell me
you’re not ready to hold me
with both hands and no one
else waiting for your call.
anne, you can’t let her go (via anneisrestless)

Cracked ribs
call the attention
of hungry teeth;

we welcome
greedy hands
into raw wounds

and beg to be
told why we
bleed.

visit the crypt, Emma Bleker (via stolenwine)

I am finally starting to
move like this body is
no longer being held
down by all its sad
stories; they made being
such a heavy thing.

It is a solemn burden,
thinking your only
belonging is in the
mangled ghosts of all
your worst days while
twisting into your side
the notion that you
have no use belonging
because of those very
same hauntings.

I was told only the
broken were interesting,
but asked to cover all
the raw rubble left
exposed from when
mornings still felt like
car crashes and my
name still stung like a
headline in my mouth.

He said “beautiful”
and I tasted metal.

It was the worst violence
I paid this body, keeping
all its pain unspoken.

the bruises are fading and i’m not pretending when i say i’m happy, Emma Bleker (via stolenwine)

aroharveyspecter:

anti self diagnosis will not be tolerated here

riceisholy:

#12
It’s not going to be easy, but you have to try. Try everyday to discover a little part of you that is beautiful and glorious. Try.

riceisholy:

#12

It’s not going to be easy, but you have to try. Try everyday to discover a little part of you that is beautiful and glorious. Try.