Barbara. Canadian. 18. Demi-romantic.

This is what love does: It makes you want to rewrite the world. It makes you want to choose the characters, build the scenery, guide the plot. The person you love sits across from you, and you want to do everything in your power to make it possible, endlessly possible.

David Levithan
Every Day (via theworldismadeofwords)

my-words-drip-in-red:

You wore me
All the way down to
Nothing.

You took from me,
What felt like
Everything.

It has taken me
Years, to learn I am
Something.

But now I know
I can be and do
Anything.

aisselectric:

ournameisfunfans:


On being asked if she is a feminist (in light of stars such as Shailene Woodley, Lady Gaga, and Kelly Clarkson rejecting the label): “I don’t think they really understood what feminism is. It’s a right. Feminism, to me, is standing up for everything that someone else has already done for you. My mom has overcome so much in her life. She makes me want to stand up for myself. Stand up to the studio heads who try to tell me that I can’t have blonde hair; they want brown hair. Or I need bigger boobs, or I need to work out. Or I’m too skinny, so, like, ‘Eat a cheeseburger.’ I stand up for myself every day of my life. I grew up in a family of four boys. I’m, like, a born feminist. I’ve been a feminist since I was four years old.” - Chloe Grace Moretz

Important

She’s like 16 and she gets it more than these ignorant grown women.

Among other things, you’ll find that you’re not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You’re by no means alone on that score, you’ll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You’ll learn from them—if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It’s a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn’t education. It’s history. It’s poetry.

J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye (via quotes-shape-us)

I let sleep curl its long fingers
about my wrists & hold me
letting it breathe
the cool
the quiet
the compliant calm
into my lungs

I’m happy now
I’ve found something to
burn warmly inside about

these moments come
and sure as shadows
they go

they filter,
they fall,
they drop
slowly, smoothly,
like snow

I fold the gentle preserve
of content, like a sweet turnover
of peaches & sugared cream
and lick the edge,
just the juice of the joy,
tuck it away,
for the next sad day

Itziar Verría (via itziarverria)

If you let people into your life a little bit, they can be pretty damn amazing.

Sherman Alexie, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (via quotes-shape-us)

we can move forward

cdtswa:

you sit
and wonder
around
but look
closely
up
for a distant
friend
ship drifting without
oars
broken yet serviceable
let’s row
together
just the
two of us…

(c) cdtswa 2014

I’ll admit failure in my grave.

SIX WORDS (9/10/14)

This picture of want
shows us at our weakest—
the sunlight that rests upon our dark-brown slacks
taunting us to go deeper, to excavate
what has not yet been excavated:
a covenant that swears never to leave its origin,
a scrape of language
forcing to be free from my chokehold,
the dry wind fighting its way through me
and the fire at my fingertips,
voracious and dangerous,
bringing with it a strain of words against my flesh.

Kaj Palanca, A Picture of Want (via aestheticintrovert)

I mean you have been disappointed in love, but don’t you know how many things there are to be disappointed in besides love? You are lucky to be still disappointed in love. Later it may be even more terrible.

Saul Bellow, The Adventures of Augie March (via wordsnquotes)

These Burns Heal Slowly

leafandleatherpoetry:

These burns heal slowly.
My legs have spots from stomping
out flames that brushed my legs
like tall grass—
my finger, a design
from what melted
and fell.

Little divots—
skin never forgets,
yet my hands never release

whenever I strike a match.

I refuse to look in a mirror.

Whether the wildness is
real or not
depends on who lives there.

Margaret Atwood, “Further arrivals,” from The Journals of Susanna Moodie (via lifeinpoetry)

The thunderclouds
creep up from a
stormy horizon.

‘How are you still
here? I would’ve
thought you had run
for shelter by now.’

‘You are my shelter.’

Noor Shirazie (via aestheticintrovert)

Once upon a time there was a crooked tree and a straight tree. And they grew next to each other. And every day the straight tree would look at the crooked tree and he would say, ‘You’re crooked. You’ve always been crooked and you’ll continue to be crooked. But look at me! Look at me!’ said the straight tree. He said, ‘I’m tall and I’m straight.’ And then one day the lumberjacks came into the forest and looked around, and the manager in charge said, ‘Cut all the straight trees.’ And that crooked tree is still there to this day, growing strong and growing strange.

Tom Waits (via kushandwizdom)

More good vibes here

(via words-of-emotion)

I can still taste your lips, in someone else’s ‘I love you.’

Virgo. - s.p. (via mystrangesilhouettes)