"all these poems about people leaving and not one
about how I convinced myself to stay.
I know what you want to hear-
that I slayed the dragon and swallowed my demons
and laughed in the face of my nightmares
and lived happily ever after-
but the truth is much more ordinary.
the truth is I breathe through the pain
even on the days it whistles between my ribs
on every inhale and every exhale
and I celebrate like hell on the days it doesn’t make a sound."
Fortesa Latifi - the d word is the elephant in the room
"When you are lonely, sit with it. Feel it move through your veins. Feel it mix with your breath. There is only one way out of this and that is through. Feel how strong you are to be able to live with such quiet around you and such roars within you. Listen to your heart, how it beats like the thin hand of a clock. Ask it what it wants. Make lists of all the things you dream will fill this space one day. A clapboard house with coffee simmering on the stove. A rusty bike and someone to ride it with. Homemade bread and a hand to hold.
When you are lonely, remind yourself how awful it feels to fill this time with anything other than what you truly yearn for. You could go to his bed- nothing would stop you, you could go right now- but you wouldn’t feel any less alone while lying next to someone when that someone doesn’t love you like you deserve. He doesn’t know about the knot in the bottom of your stomach and he’ll fall asleep before it loosens.
When you are lonely, cultivate it. Cradle it. These moments feel like background noise but they are anything but. You are learning your way around yourself. You are drawing a map you will consult for the rest of your life. Ask yourself the hard things. How do you like your eggs cooked? Do you want to have children? How do you feel about global warming? When no one else is around, you can hear your own voice. Even if it is a gentle, quiet thing there are so many things you can learn from it. Take your time.
When you are lonely, light a candle that smells like home or maybe one that smells like pine trees you’ve never seen before. Kiss your forehead in the mirror and have a glass of wine. Write a poem. Or don’t.
When you are lonely, the universe is giving you space to be with yourself. Don’t waste it."
Fortesa Latifi - When You Are Lonely
"The worst thing in the world can happen, but the next day the sun will come up. And you will eat your toast. And you will drink your tea."
Rhian Ellis, After Life (via 2854)
"I’d live on the moon probably except I think I’d miss
"If you were happy with the wrong person, imagine how happy you’ll be with the right one."
"No one ever tells you that people will leave your life, unannounced. Sometimes they leave the earth, sometimes they just leave you. Things continue. Tomorrow you will wake up and the sun will be kissing your eyelids and it will be a new day for you to drink too much coffee and reread an old book. You will be okay. No one ever tells you that, either. Days will melt together like some candle you burned down to scraps, and seasons will change. You will fall in and out of love with yourself more times than you’ll ever be able to count. It is important to take the time to appreciate your own fingerprints, your own skin. There will be days when it is all you have."
Never forget to be kind to yourself.
i needed this(via sadgirl-81)
"I do not mean the symbol
of love, a candy shape
to decorate cakes with,
the heart that is supposed
to belong or break;
I mean this lump of muscle
that contracts like a flayed bicep,
purple-blue, with its skin of suet,
its skin of gristle, this isolate,
this caved hermit, unshelled
turtle, this one lungful of blood,
no happy plateful.
All hearts float in their own
deep oceans of no light,
wetblack and glimmering,
their four mouths gulping like fish.
Hearts are said to pound:
this is to be expected, the heart’s
regular struggle against being drowned.
But most hearts say, I want, I want,
I want, I want. My heart
is more duplicitous,
though no twin as I once thought.
It says, I want, I don’t want, I
want, and then a pause.
It forces me to listen,
and at night it is the infra-red
third eye that remains open
while the other two are sleeping
but refuses to say what it has seen."
Margaret Atwood, from “The Woman Who Could Not Live With Her Faulty Heart”
"it’s about who you miss at 2 in the afternoon when you’re busy, not 2 in the morning when you’re lonely."
"I feel like a girl most when I’m cutting my own hair
over the bathroom sink and leave the pieces
for my mother to clean up. He calls and tells me
of a dream he had where we moved in together
and all I wanted to do was leave. I’m texting
in all-capitals and writing in lowercase cursive
and I don’t know when this began to matter,
but it does. When he wears the sweater I bought
for him I cry into the sleeves because I know
he doesn’t love just anyone. Months later,
I am still keeping the light on for as long as I can
without having to explain myself. I see pretty teens
everywhere, pink-faced from laughing,
teeth glittering in their mouths. It makes my
heart sore. Remember driving around in your car
with the windows rolled down and the wind
in our faces going who knows where? The sun
so bright the streets couldn’t do anything
but shine. Happiness was your car and how
we were together in your car. Even now I am still
turning to you out of habit. Even now I always
look for you in the split second before laughing.
And I list the places I’m in love with but am unable
to visit. And I miss you. And the radio plays all
of our favorite songs. And I still can’t remember
how I was before."
"A good laugh and a long sleep are the two best cures for anything."
"They lay face to face in the semi-darkness, and while the great rain-cleansed city beyond the room settled to its softer nocturnal rhythms and their marriage uneasily resumed, she told him in a steady quiet voice of her shame, of the sweet boy’s passion for life, and her part in his death."
Ian McEwan, from The Children Act
"if you consider a woman
less pure after you’ve touched her
maybe you should take a look at your hands"
"They were afraid of your authentic love, because authentic love is beyond their control.You are possessed by it. You are not the possessor, you are the possessed. And every society wants you to be in control. The society is afraid of your wild nature, it is afraid of your naturalness, so from the very beginning it starts cutting your wings. And the most basic thing which is dangerous in you is the possibility of love, because if you are possessed by love you can go even against the whole world."
Osho (via yoforbes)
"Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it’s all a male fantasy: that you’re strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. Even pretending you aren’t catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you’re unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur."
Margaret Atwood, The Robber Bride
I follow Margaret Atwood on twitter because she interacts with really funny nature accounts (she’ll rt something like @DucksIncorporated or @Birdwatchersunited and the tweet will be like, “The beautiful spring feathers of the meadowlark.”) Anyway. It’s easy to forget that she’s also a very dank writer.
You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman.
This line, oof.
Been spending a lot of time lately trying to untangle how a lifetime of patriarchy has fucked up my own sexual agency. Nothing like getting derailed inside your own head by worries of how you look in the moment, whether you measure up to some external standard…