American Painted Lady

only when it's dark enough
you can see the stars


If I pledge to be free
I pledge to be brave

I cannot claim to want the first
and relieve myself of the latter

I have endured to much of my self loathing
To give up now

“People think dreams aren’t real just because they aren’t made of matter, of particles. Dreams are real. But they are made of viewpoints, of images, of memories and puns and lost hopes.”

—   Neil Gaiman  (via thatkindofwoman)

(Bron: quotethat, via thatkindofwoman)


Just that the soul has a way of mending and
Bending and

Not the right places
Nor the right people

Just the ones that

At any given moment

After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,

And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t always mean security.

And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises,

And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes ahead
With the grace of woman, not the grief of a child.

And you learn to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns if you get too much.

So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure
That you really are strong

And you really do have worth

And you learn and you learn—

With every goodbye, you learn.

—   Jorge Luis Borges, You Learn (translated by Veronica A. Shoffstall)

(Bron: decembrist, via sansastarklives)

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been me.”

—   Fernando Pessoa (via aestheticintrovert)

(Bron: knightoftryse, via dharshstar)


For you to see me
I have to want to see myself
But I just want to smash my mirror
Into a million pieces

So all you are left to see
Are these little particles of me


as I pass by the worlds I choose to
this calculated heartache
preys upon my worn out senses
I do not understand why I must mask my heart
these cracks I fill up with endless
fantasies about moments
that will never exist

I contemplate
rarely do I seek time to be
it’s always you and
another one
a hit a blush a conquest
never just a lonely moment
never just

I have taught myself to
capture the essence of one glorious memory
and push it into
every waking living day and dream
every waking day away
into nothingness

I avoid
the stare back
the reflection
the bare soul
bright and keen on living and learning and
I just walk away

my fingers tight around
the cracks
holding onto what must be
the very core of me
broken and
desperate for
a smile back

I just walk away


We could have made the rivers flood
These tears, they’ll never dry
I bet the city still smells like yesterday
With that bus forgetting time

If I would return to the city
I would actually want to return to then
And when looking into your eyes
I just want to see me again

I’ll use our memories as my map
Our final kiss my destination
Coming together again we will become
A last goodbye with an exclamation

Mark the points where we were us
I held your hand there, do you remember?
And your wet socks, they were my favorite part
It was like summer that November

You and me, we were two rivers
Together we cried the third
And while I sit here writing this
My heart still beats in Pittsburgh