canadieh:

meet my house

mishatranslator:

henryandhisbrain:

Dear Yahoo,

If you would like Tumblr users to like you, remove the post limit and word limit on messages.

If you place ads on our dash or charge for use every month, there will be a war. You have an army. We have a hulk.

Regards

Tumblr Users

make them see this

this is why we fight: I have to learn to love this body. My hands shakemost of the timeand...

buttholepoetry:

I have to learn to love this body.

My hands shake
most of the time
and when I’m nervous
I blush
and my voice trembles
like the strings on a guitar.
My mind is too full of words
that haven’t been invented yet
so I can’t even begin to explain
how I feel.
My eyes hurt;
they’ve seen too much.
My…

takingstockofwhatmattersmost:

she was broken for her age
barely 15 
still knock-kneed and awkward in appearance
but far too grown on the inside
he took her youth
like a yet ripened peach
she wasn’t ready
but he was hungry
and ate through the bitterness anyway
she no longer smiled
or cared
her will was degraded and her heart
her heart 
she had forgotten about her heart

maza-dohta:

you’re a poem,
not a novel -

each movement
of yours,
each breath and
flutter of your eyelash
is a song itself -
your very heartbeat
has a thousand bluebirds lined up
at your window in anticipation.

you’re so much more
than a book of words -
you’re a series of moments
that one book alone could never fit. 

a clockwork plum: A declaration.

aclockworkplum:

I feel most myself when I am a question mark,
A child, roughly 2-4 years in age,
Plaguing you with ‘why’s —
If slightly more advanced,
Wondering why blue has the shortest wave length,
And why chlorophyll is green.

I am at home in museums, with bare bones
And artifacts I don’t understand
From time…

a broken heart is nothing new

brightlightsloudnoises:

a broken heart is nothing new,
nothing interesting
or even exciting,
it’s just a thing,
an expected thing
like the weather,
good or bad,
something shiny
to take her hand
and walk her
away

and
god bless you
and your
funny ways,
god bless the
hopeless moments
when you show up at my
door
like a lost cat
or angel—

bad news
wrapped in
some other
guy’s
coat