sleeping-flowers
Instead of saying “I don’t have time” try saying “it’s not a priority,” and see how that feels. Often, that’s a perfectly adequate explanation. I have time to iron my sheets, I just don’t want to. But other things are harder. Try it: “I’m not going to edit your résumé, sweetie, because it’s not a priority.” “I don’t go to the doctor because my health is not a priority.” If these phrases don’t sit well, that’s the point. Changing our language reminds us that time is a choice. If we don’t like how we’re spending an hour, we can choose differently.
Unknown  (via 1112pm)
backshelfpoet
You’re looking for a poem to tell
you why your heart is broken
into every piece. You’re looking
for someone to compare all the
ways he didn’t love you to a rose
and how even when it turns
black with death, it’s still lovely.
There aren’t words that will
make your phone’s silence
easier, trust me. You’re alone
tonight and he’s probably
thinking about someone else;
there’s nothing poetic about that.
Rebeka Anne, don’t give him the satisfaction of leaving something beautiful behind. your heartbreak isn’t pretty. (via anneisrestless)
sleeping-flowers

I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, “Kiss me harder,” and “You’re a good person,” and, “You brighten my day.” I live my life as straight-forward as possible.
Because one day, I might get hit by a bus.

Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands.

But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate.

And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care.

We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans.

We never know when the bus is coming.

Tell The People You Love That You Love Them - Rachel C. Lewis (via hushedsweetnothings)