moon child ☽

|Twenty| Itty bitty ball of fire | Happily in love | Live by Faith✝ |

Either you want me around or you don’t. I have no time to stick around for people who are unsure of my worth. If you miss me, you should’ve known better than to let me leave.

You did not love me,
You just loved the fact that I was here for you.
You loved the attention I gave you,
You loved the fact that I would drop anything for you.
You did not love me, but god,
I loved you.

I think it’s time I let you go. And that’s so hard to do because some part of me will be in love with you for the rest of my life. But the daydreaming, the running in place, it’s not healthy. So this is me, cutting the cord. This is me, doing what I should have done eight months ago: Saying goodbye.

I thought leaving you would be easy,
just walking out the door
but I keep getting pinned against it
with my legs around your waist and it’s like
my lips want you like my lungs want air,
it’s just what they where born to do so
I am sitting at work thinking of you
cutting vegetables in my kitchen
your hair in my shower drain
your fingers on my spine in the morning
while we listen to Muddy Waters, I know
you will never be the one I call home
but the way you talk about poems
like marxists talk of revolution
it makes me want to keep trying.
I’m still looking for reasons to love you.
I’m still looking for proof you love me.

—Clementine von Radics (via 47giraffes)

(via courtyrocks)

Would you mind
if I asked you to use me?
Let me be your release
Spread me out like your bed sheets
And wrap yourself in me
Rest your head on my chest
Smear your stress across my belly
Sigh exasperations on my neck
Let my lips be your pacifier
My arms your cradle
Wrap your legs all around me
Squeeze my body like your pillow
Let your muscles relax
Fall asleep under my chin
Give in
Would you mind?
Because I’d love for you to use me
Again and again

That’s why I’m so harsh, because I’m so sensitive.

—Tupac (via insignif)

(via sinkintoome)

condom:

don’t send me snapchats from something i wasn’t invited to you rude ass bitch

(via sinkintoome)

I’m afraid I’ll never finish college. I’m afraid I’ll finish college with student loans I can never pay back. I’m afraid I’ll get a degree and won’t be able to find a job in that field. I’m afraid I’ll get a degree, get the job I dreamed of, and hate it.

—A Mental Illness Happy Hour listener whose list of fears matches mine four for four. (via undeadlife)

(Source: insensiblenothingness, via sinkintoome)

I want your Monday morning
sleep soaked eyes
dream drenched voice,
lazy bones
‘five more minutes please babe.’

I want your Tuesday afternoon
coffee break,
glasses off, laughter on
‘just hold me for a while
it’s been a hard day.’

I want your Wednesday evening
fingers through hair
teeth nibbling nails
neck craning, eye glazing
‘this paperwork never ends’

I want your Thursday night
drinks for two
bones unbind
muscles let loose
flats, slacks,
‘just me and you’

I want your finally Friday
stretch soul smile,
sun sipping light
from the glaciers in your eyes
fingers unfurl, hand extends
‘c’mon babe, lets go wild’

I want your weekend.
your movie marathon Saturday
reading by the fireplace
kissing in the blankets
want your Sunday morning
orange juice and pancakes
white sheets, tender skin
hair like the Fourth of July
‘let’s not get out of bed today.’

I want your ordinary
and your stress, rest, release
I want your bad day and that terrible night
I want you drunk in my arms
forgetting the place but never my name
I want your lazy and your lonely
and your fist full of fight
I want you everyday
in every way
for the rest of my life.