Dear *insert lover’s name here*,

I can’t be with you anymore if I cannot call you mine. It pains me knowing your touch was not meant for me. Your smile, not meant for me. You, weren’t made for me. These past few weeks have been fun, but I promised I would not fall in love this time. I lied. I’ve seen the way you look at me compared to other girls; there is no tenderness in your gaze. You’re only affectionate in bed, and then you leave. With no official title between us I suppose this isn’t a breakup, but here I am writing to you as if you’ll care. I can’t put myself through the pain of watching you walk out my door without even a turn of your head. Sometimes loves are not made to be reciprocated. This is what I’ll tell myself. This is my last goodbye to you.

With love,
*insert your name here*

Annika W. “How to Break Up With Someone You’re Not Technically With”

"write something about having friends with benefits with an ex boyfriend-girlfriend. Writing them a poem or letter on your feelings of why you can’t be fwb anymore"

(via pmamamysterious)

“No, people don’t destroy you. You destroy yourself, by thinking people have destroyed you.”

– (via writingbyella)

I have nearly driven myself
mad on countless occasions
attempting to decipher what
sets you apart from 7 billion.

You are highly intelligent
but there are individuals who
possess greater intellect.

You are funny
but I have met people
who are more gifted in wit.

You are handsome
but there are many in the world
who lay claim to this trait.

You are brave
but you do not deny
that you possess fears.

You strive for perfection
but you don’t profess
to be perfect.

You are merely a human being
with a beating heart and a
restless soul like the
rest of mankind.

Why then, I ask, do you appear
as the brightest sun amongst
ceaseless darkness?

|| Colleen Courtney Anderson || (via speculativeknowledge)

how i will love you: my hands are shaky so i cannot carry two things at once without risking one of them dropping. i will bring your hot cocoa all the way from the kitchen to the couch before i go back to get my own. you will say, “you’re missing it” but i will watch you blindly take a sip of Nesquik’s magic blend and this to me will be more comforting than all of the explosions of the terrible action movie we’ve dedicated the past half hour to.

how i will love you: with sirens in my teeth that sob about everything. you will ask why i clench my jaw when i sleep, i will tell you that the nightmares are back and they are hunting. i have the ashes of burned forest coursing through my bloodstream. there are days where you will kiss me and you will taste nothing but screams.

how i will love you: i will read aloud your horoscope before mentioning mine. i will only tell you the dreams where you are the main character or if imaginary you and i made out a lot and bought ice cream. i will make you sandwiches, but only if you ask nicely. i will offer you my coat even though it would never fit you and i’m only wearing one layer underneath. i will worry about you, because i worry about everything.

how i will love you: you will not hear from me on the worst nights, because sadness makes my words go silent. you will have to hunt for the evidence that i’m ready to die in fractured unsure sentences that are entirely devoid of light. you will know me for my tidal waves: that i pull back into my ocean entirely before i spill over and ruin everything. i cannot commit you to being my anchor. i will hide from you and think that this is how i save you.

how i will love you: one day i will tell you about where the scars are from and we will count them. there will be a lot more than you can see because not all of my scars are on the outside of me. and if after this you can still kiss me in all honesty, i will tie together universes to bring you whatever you want or need.

how i will love you: my hands will shake and sometimes i will come apart at the seams. you will probably occasionally wonder if the world will end before i stop talking. i will steal all of your comfy clothing. i will try to adopt more plants than you feel comfortable owning. i will occasionally demand silence while i pick a corner and read. i cannot promise i will be perfect or even close to the person that you need. i can only say that when i’m having cake, i will save you the last piece.

how i will love you: entirely. /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)

Marilyn Monroe in The Asphalt Jungle (1950)

Marilyn Monroe in The Asphalt Jungle (1950)



Comfort food.