Jeanette-ic Disorder

You kiss me in my dreams and my skin gets tight. You steal my heart right out of my mouth and I let you. I wake up sore and tired and spend my day groggily searching for the words to tell you that I’d have you in any way if you’d let me. I’ve never met you, but I’d kiss you in dark alleys and hold your hand in crowded subway cars and roll on top of you in the morning and let you hold me down at night, if you’d let me. I’d suffer a few thousand miles just to wake up every morning and know you are mine.

You kiss me in my dreams and I am a pulled canvas, waiting for you to come and touch me for the first time and paint every inch of my skin with what it means to be loved by you.

Kristen Fiore // Art School Love Songs 

#reblogging old feelings

(via girlvswhale)

(via maryyannneeee)

gerardwoah:

'It's all in your head'

yes
which is why it’s called mental illness you incompetent piece of shit

(via maryyannneeee)

snark0lepsy:

The Whitest Kids U’ Know x

(via infinite-death-loop)

Sometimes, I Write Letters On Tumblr When I’m Afraid To Write Them To The People They’re Addressed To

All you ever wanted to do was love me.  And all I ever did was shut you out and push you away.  I was vicious.  I was critical.  I didn’t treat you like a human being.  Something about you made me hungry to test your limits — to see how hard and far I could push you before you broke.  

Why wasn’t I more compassionate?  Why couldn’t I see that you were wounded and starved for tenderness?  Why was I so unwilling to be the one to give it to you?    

I hurt you — repeatedly — in the same way that people I’d once loved, or had once tried to love, hurt me.  

All this time, I acted so self-righteous — as if *I* were the one with the capacity for deep, unbridled, unshakable love; as if everyone *else* were shut down and closed off.  

All this time, I’d been focusing my energy and attention on people who ultimately didn’t give a fuck about me, when there you were — eager to be at my side.  You would have given me anything.  How could I have been so blind?    

We’re so alike.  …Impulsive.  Reactive.  Huge personalities masking huge insecurities/fragile egos.  More fire/passion than either of us know what to do with. An all-consuming desire to feel, or alternately, to numb out our almost intolerably-deep feelings.  A penchant for self-destruction.  A need/desire to love and be loved in equal measure.  A dark side.  A light side, seeking to heal and be healed.  

I know that we have a history of getting crazy around each other.  I know that I acted totally fucking insane.  I know that I showed you the ugliest parts of my personality.  I know you think that you can’t trust anything I say — that I’m manipulative, combative, and melodramatic.  I know that we don’t always understand each other.  But I swear — I don’t want to fight with you anymore.

I have never wanted anyone, physically, as much as I want you.  Our bodies were made for each other.  You ignite me from the inside-out, and I do the same to you.  You can’t fucking deny it.  And I still fucking want you — all the goddamn time.          

Honest to God — I just miss your laugh.  I miss your smell.  I miss your kiss.  I miss the way you’d wrap me up in your huge, warm arms.  I miss you, you fucking jerk.  

Do you remember when you first met me?  You thought I was a total sweetheart.  I still am — that girl is still in there.

In the same breath, I’m also a ruthless bitch.

That’s because — like you — I’m a fucking person.  

I’m kind and cruel.  I’m your Madonna and your whore.  Tender and impossible.  I will satisfy your darkest, most depraved appetites, and then wake up and make you breakfast in the morning.  I will kiss you in the pitch-dark.  I will kiss you in the kitchen sunlight.  Just let me kiss you again.  Please.    

“Long after you’ve forgotten someone’s voice, you can still remember the sound of their happiness or their sadness. You can feel it in your body.”
 Anne Michaels (via teenager90s)

(via drinkmor3vodka)

lovequotesrus:

Everything you love is here

lovequotesrus:

Everything you love is here

aseaofquotes:

Sandra Cisneros, “One Last Poem for Richard”

aseaofquotes:

Sandra Cisneros, “One Last Poem for Richard”

“You don’t have to be pretty like her. You can be pretty like you.”
— One of the most freeing things I have ever heard (via insanity-and-vanity)

(Source: firecannotkillabadwolf, via lovequotesrus)

“Everyone’s fucked up. You’ve just gotta decide what kinda fucked up you’re into.”
— (via strikerium)

(Source: kushandwizdom, via drinkmor3vodka)

“Now I can see that this separation was absolutely necessary. Otherwise we would have most definitely set each other on fire. By the way, I am in constant physical and emotional pain. You see, I love you so, my little beloved friend.”
— Ingmar Bergman, from a letter to Liv Ullmann (via violentwavesofemotion)

violentwavesofemotion:

Liv & Ingmar (2012): Both you and I have a lot of intensive presence. And an enormous ability to put ourselves in other people’s emotions. And especially each other’s. We also have an intensive ability to affect other people and make them experience what we experience. And we have an ability to affect each other. We make each other alive. It doesn’t make a difference if it hurts.” — Ingmar Bergman

“and i said to my body. softly. ‘i want to be your friend.’ it took a long breath. and replied, ‘i have been waiting my whole life for this.’”
— nayyirah waheed (via roserosetyler)

(Source: nayyirahwaheed, via loveyourchaos)


“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.
“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful.  “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”
“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”
“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse.  “You become.  It takes a long time.  That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.  Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.  But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
— The Velveteen Rabbit (or How Toys Become Real) by Margery Williams, 1922

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful.  “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”

“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse.  “You become.  It takes a long time.  That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.  Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.  But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

The Velveteen Rabbit (or How Toys Become Real) by Margery Williams, 1922

(Source: calantheandthenightingale, via my-h-e-a-r-t-s-not-in-it)

Let that freak flag fly

Let that freak flag fly

(Source: technoliquid, via nicoleoliepolie)