one of my close friends told me recently
“I sat next to you in sculpture for a year
and I thought you hated me.”
I cried laughing, “WHY?!”
“well I get your sense of humor now,” she said.
I’m sarcastic and witty.
I chop fire wood when I’m frustrated,
drink beer with the boys,
cuss like a sailor.
I don’t mind kicking off my Manolos
and whooping your ass in a game of pool.
I remember going out one night,
ordering the darkest beer on the menu
and my date looking at me like I was crazy.
“don’t you want a mixed drink, baby?
you’ve got nothing to prove to me.”
I remember crossing my legs,
twirling my blonde hair,
turning to the waiter and saying,
“he’d like a cosmopolitan.
oh, and do you have one of those little umbrellas for it?”
my father taught me how to be ten foot tall and bullet proof
my mother taught me how to make my own money,
pull myself up off the ground
and raise my manicured middle finger to the sky.
I remember my mom leaning towards the mirror
to put on her lipstick and thinking to myself,
“why can’t I be both?”
why can’t I run five miles in BCBG tennis shoes?
why can’t I shoot a gun wearing Marc Jacobs jeans?
why is it so hard to believe that a woman
can take care of herself,
save for nice things
and not be a total bitch?
I’m this whirlwind of woman
that most men don’t know how to love.
I guess I just always left my footprint in Dolce & Gabbana
and my heart at some shitty dive bar down the street
with the veterans talking war stories
and faded tattoos.
if you can make sense of all that I am,
if you can look past my long blonde hair
and shake my hand,
”—just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I can’t buy you a drink/d.a.h (via whisperingbones)
“You speak my name between shivers and when you think of my laughter still resonating somewhere on the inside you can’t help but feel all the empty I left behind. I know that it hurts less now. I know that there are days when you forget what standing in the rain felt like, I know that there are days when you forget what being loved felt like but I know that you remember. You haven’t forgotten yet the color of my eyes or the way that I made you feel like the stars in the sky were within your reach so go ahead and pass me by on the street like you’ve never loved me at all. I know you remember, I know I do too.”—thewordsyouneverunderstood (via thewordsyouneverunderstood)
“I love kissing. If I could kiss all day, I would. I can’t stop thinking about kissing. I like kissing more than sex because there’s no end to it. You can kiss forever. You can kiss yourself into oblivion. You can kiss all over the body. You can kiss yourself to sleep. And when you wake up, you can’t stop thinking about kissing. Dammit, I can’t get anything done because I’m so busy thinking about kissing. Kissing is madness! But it’s absolute paradise, if you can find a good kisser.”—Sufjan Stevens (via nibr4shi)
humans are kinda cute we pass stories down generations to instill a sense of wonder in people we’ll never know and we have little bells on our houses to tell each other that we’ve arrived and we shiver when we get cold and we have an endless amount of curiosity and if the night sky is clear our first instinct is to look up at the stars and think about going on big adventures
“…the older I get, the more I see how women are described as having gone mad, when what they’ve actually become is knowledgeable and powerful and fucking furious.”—Sophie Heawood (via hereticnarrative)
“Are you really in love with her? Have you forgotten the sound of my footsteps over wet pavement on the days when I made it rain? Have you stopped thinking about me over breakfast on Sunday mornings? Have you stopped reading all the words I ever wrote to you? Have they stopped making the ground beneath your feet shake? Does she hold your hand in your mothers car? Does she tell you she loves you everyday? Do you write your name beside hers on the concrete floor like you did with mine? Does her name fit your last name? Have you asked her to marry you? Did she say yes before you finished your sentence like I did? Will you name your first daughter Autumn, like you said we would? Do you love her? I hope she’ll never love you like I could.”— Questions // thewordsyouneverunderstood (via thewordsyouneverunderstood)
“Intimacy is not who you let touch you. Intimacy is who you text at 3am about your dreams and fears. Intimacy is giving someone your attention, when ten other people are asking for it. Intimacy is the person always in the back of your mind, no matter how distracted you are.”—(via bisexualjohn)
i can’t wait until i’m older and have a serious relationship like think of how much fun that would be every single night would be like a sleepover with your best friend and you could make pancakes at 3 in the morning and uncontrollably snuggle when you’re bored
“There is strength in past;
do not let them tell you
that the bones holding you
in place are nothing but
skeleton, do not let them
tell you that your body
is anything but a gift to
every single tomorrow.”—today i watched you wither as he tugged at the fabric on your shirt and tried to make you into a game, Emma Bleker
“It is so easy to forget that I
have trouble caring for
people when I am wrapped
up in the body of you,
surrounded by all this sky.
This shaking is not just
a product of the cold.”—i didn’t see the shooting star, but i hope all the good things come true for you ~ Emma Bleker