I pity the woman who will love you
when I am done. She will show up
to your first date with a dustpan
and broom, ready to pick up all the pieces
I left you in. She will hear my name so often
it will begin to dig holes in her. That
is where doubt will grow. She will look
at your neck, your thin hips, your mouth,
wondering at the way I touched you.
She will make you all the promises I did
and some I never could. She will hear only
the terrible stories. How I drank. How I lied.
She will wonder (as I have) how someone
as wonderful as you could love a monster
like the woman who came before her. Still,
she will compete with my ghost.
She will understand why you do not look
in the back of closets. Why you are afraid
of what’s under the bed. She will know
every corner of you is haunted
by me.

We emotionally manipulated one another until we thought it was love.

Warsan Shire (34 Excuses for Why We Failed at Love)

(Source: vodkascars)

arekususan:

my life
your lie
happy now?

Shame is a demon that you should absolutely fight like it stole something from you. Because it has.

It’s not going to be easy. It’s not supposed to be easy, I don’t know who taught you that everything difficult means you have to give up and back off and shut yourself down. Loving me is hard. I’m moody, and I don’t always want to hold your hand. Sometimes I don’t even want to look at you. But for God’s sake, that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t fight for you still. It doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t come and get you if you were stranded somewhere at night. Or that I wouldn’t love you through the flu and run back and forth from the bathroom to our bedroom with a cold compress. All I’m saying is that sometimes things get hard, sometimes they get so difficult that you don’t know where to put your hands, but that’s when you grit your teeth and be patient. Some things are worth staying for.

—Azra.T “stop leaving the fight before it’s even begun.” (via 5000letters)

He was dangerous because he was different, and smarter than me, and wanted me to be a grown-up.

—Jenny Lawson, Let’s Pretend This Never Happened (p. 75)

(Source: mybookhaul)

silversarcasm:

the idea of people having to be ‘useful’ is just so gross, like people do not exist to be used

having to produce something and have a use is a capitalist ideal and not an intrinsic part of humanity

just by being alive you are human and you are worth something and you can never be useless

Nobody is superior, nobody is inferior, but nobody is equal either. People are simply unique, incomparable.

Osho  (via mau-die)

(Source: lazyyogi)

I’m much more afraid of living the next fifty years with no purpose & failing at making my dreams reality than I am of going to sleep tonight and not waking up tomorrow. To be totally honest I would much rather die tonight, in my sleep than to live another day, week, month or year in this nightmare that occupies most of waking moments.

Joaquin Capehart( From the mind of a 25 year old who is sometimes unsure if he’d like to see 30)

4/16/2014
11:02 PM

(via thespokenpoet)

Suffering is not bad. If you understand it rightly, suffering is a cleansing. If you understand it rightly, sadness has a depth to it which no happiness can ever have. A person who is simply happy is always superficial. A person who has not known sorrow and has not known sadness, has not known the depths. He has not touched the bottom of his being; he has remained just on the periphery. One has to move within these two banks. Within these two banks flows the river.

—Osho (via liberatingreality)

shuhannazy:

Poetic (X)