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This is my heart spilling into my hands, this is me touching something in the dark and pulling it into the light. I never knew that pain could feel so soft when you try to keep it as something that is good in its essence, not there to destroy, but to show you a way out. This is the exit wound, look, and I know it will heal (you told me so, years ago), if I let it be and let me be and let this be.
Posted on February 11, 2012 via with 21 notes
Source: growing-orbits
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pleaseholdmysilence liked this
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catladycatharsis said:
May you grow up to be a poet. Also, may I grow to get a better job to buy your books.
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growing-orbits posted this
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I post things that make me feel.
I like big cities and pictures that are like dreams and political cartoons and fashion and words, words, words.
