So I guess it is true after all. I just want to be chosen. To someone, I want to be that precious and tender thing. To be seen as soft, despite all the roughness I have endured. Who will love me as a flightless bird? Who will love me as a plucked flower? Let there be no more disruption. I am looking for a love that allows me stillness.
(via hauntinglover)
Last night i wasnt paying enough attention, got old and died but i was reborn and lowkey today is my first day on earth and i have yet to make any mistakes or sin or have any regrets at all
(via just-a-hopeless-wanderer)
(via hauntinglover)
I long for you in ways you couldn’t even begin to imagine.
Sometimes I feel like all I am destined to do in this life is be loved and left. So that I can make art out of it. To be a woman wisened by love, who speaks her feelings into something beautiful, something consumable. I fear I will be nothing but consumed.
“The art of letting go and moving on is an acquired taste one only knows after they know nothing else for long enough. The first step is forced, and every step after is felt.”—
(via hatin)