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"Books don’t offer real escape, but they can stop a mind scratching itself raw."

- David Mitchell from Cloud Atlas (via poetry-and-insomnia)
Source: poetry-and-insomnia
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When I have days like this
Where I drift away without moving,
Shed empty tears that fall invisibly
From a slowly sinking soul,
There before you but not quite whole,
What will you do?

Will you leave me in the isolation
I seem to desire, give me all the
Space and time that I so long for,
Go about your day and wait until
I am ready, wait for me to seek you out?

Will you bother me until I break,
My monosyllabic responses growing
Until stories return to you, until
Anger reaches your ears, until some
Sort of reaction greets your
Tireless efforts?

Will you hold me, lie with me in
The silence of sorrow, comfort me
With just the feel of you there,
The tender melody of your heart
Easing light back into mine?

Will you push and pull, prod me out
The door, show me the world that
Exists beyond my own, distract me
With a life with you?

When I fall into this darkness,
Will you be there to follow me,
There to share it with me,
There to help me rise from it?

Will you be enough?
Will you be enough?

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"I will not be your “sometimes”."

- Six Word Story #2 (via whispersofstardust)

(via jaybird-throughmywindow)

Source: whispersofstardust
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"I didn’t fall in love with you. I walked into love with you, with my eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way. I do believe in fate and destiny, but I also believe we are only fated to do the things that we’d choose anyway. And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you."

Source: aknai
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"Real love is always chaotic. You lose control; you lose perspective. You lose the ability to protect yourself. The greater the love, the greater the chaos. It’s a given and that’s the secret."

- Jonathan Carroll, White Apples  (via wordsnquotes)

(via actionsofallyourthoughts)

Source: wordsnquotes
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Those that came before
Branded their names upon my heart,
Pressed heated, fiery feelings there
So that when they left, all could see
Who I belonged to.

Some days, I smell fire before I wake
And I scream and scream and scream
Until smoke fills my lungs and steals
My voice away, and it feels fresh,
Again, aches and burns, scent of
Burnt flesh lingering in the air.

But you.
You are a soothing balm, the scent
Of you pungent and herbal.
I can feel you slowly encompass
My heart, and it’s healing, pure and
Insistent in it’s tender ways.
The scars are fading.
You’re still here.

If you ever chose to leave, I would
Have no dreams of fire, scream myself
Awake. There would be tears, but
I would wake to incomparable joy,
So eternally grateful that you were here,
Your medicinal scent cleansing,
Lingering like incense at dawn.

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His voice was steely, made of
Wires and metal and constantly
Moving parts that kept him cold and
Indifferent, Why can’t you just
Move on? Why must you grieve over
The loss of something so valueless

I replied. Not as strong as him
But with a conviction he lacked in
Everything.

I raised it, watched it grow from
Such a weak, feeble thing into something
That could carry me for days, weeks.
But I couldn’t keep it alive, no matter
How hard I tried, no matter what I did
I watched it wither away and die.
Our love was a living, breathing thing
And it died.
It was yours.
It was mine.
It was ours.
And it’s gone now.