People are prettiest when they talk about something they really love with passion in their eyes.
(via lara-xo)

(Source: JRileyUSA)



I hope one day you’re as happy as you’re pretending to be.

You see her for the first time and she’ll walk right past you like you are a crack in the wall and she is a skyscraper with her head so high in the air and when you can’t sleep you’ll think about the way her eyes strayed into yours for a moment too long before breaking away and disappearing into the crowd of people.

She’ll look both ways before telling you she loves you under her breath and when she hugs you her eyes scan the empty room as if the walls had eyes and ears and mouths that could give you away.

When she’s curled up on your lap shaking with mismatched breaths you’ll wonder how someone who looked like she carried mountains on her shoulders could crumble so easily in your arms like the tornado in her mind finally hit her and knocked her off her feet.

In half-light she’ll run her fingers over your arms like she is reading words carved into your skin, binding them together into the perfect metaphor and you’ll hear it playback in your head at 4am when your head runs wild with thoughts of her.

You’ll find a safe haven on rooftops and abandoned rooms where she’ll set fire to your insides with hushed breaths between kisses planted perfectly on your lips and make you wonder how dangerous it is to play with wild flames while your body is made of paper.

You’ll stare God right in the eye and tell him that if loving her was a sin then you want no place in heaven with him because the way her lips fit perfectly on your neck is a type of paradise you’ll never forget.

The six stages of falling in love with her. // by rb (via rbcages)
A year ago we stayed up till 3 am talking
And today I don’t know how to even say hey

Time flies (via esssence)

I want to kiss her.

Not because I want to feel the softness of her fair lips or the warmth of her breath as she exhales against me.

I want to kiss her because I can’t think of any other way to fully express the beauty that she is. I want her to know that I see her as perfect. That she is perfect.


Knowing someone has the same feelings about you that you have for them is the best feeling. Because even though I’m not there to kiss you or hold you or even hug you. You know what my thoughts are about you. You know that you are always on my mind. You know that I would rather be cuddling with you then cold in my own bed. I guess that’s what love is. And it’s an amazing feeling.

There was a girl I knew with crystalized honey for a voice.
Skin that looked like a warm summers day
With an ever present cherry popsicle dripping down her arm.
She was bright eyed and motherless but more than once
I caught my lips calling her mama, because she towered over me
Two whole inches with a fast mouth and a hand on her hip
And I just didnt know the difference then.
She taught me how to put one leg in front of the other
And call it hopscotch.
She taught me how to put one leg in front of the other
And roundhouse chalk theives in the face.
She taught me how to put one leg in front of the other
And run.
There was no way anyone was taming that mane of hers
Much less her spirit.
That girl was a thoroughbred stallion
In a land that bore no horses.
The streets belonged to her, meadows.
The rooftops called her name, mountains.
And the rivers she always found with me.
It has been thirteen years since our last “see you later”.
I dont know where you are.
I dont know what happened to you.
But I write your name on every chalkboard I find
Calling it hopscotch.

"Hajar" - Sahar M. (via iamsahar)

The worst part about distance is the unknown. I mean, you get into a relationship or whatever and you have fun while it lasts until you’re dragged away from one another. Maybe by fate, or just life choices; but it happens. And you can occupy yourself in the day, but come darkness; when the only light is that of the solitude moon - all you can do is think. Think, think, overthink. Why are things the way they are? Will they ever be the same? Do they miss me in the way that I miss them? Nothing makes sense anymore. The places you go and the sights you see are scarred by the absence of the one you love, and you find yourself looking out the window at 3am and even the blanket of night reminds you of them. The pitch black colouring reminds you of the empty hole in your chest, where your heart used to be which you’re not sure is there anymore. You search and search for this beating organ but all you find are dead flowers that have been ripped from the roots. Do they think about me? Do they ever think of coming home? Will they still love me in the morning? Nothing is everything and everything is nothing. Days become dull and you find that missing them is just a part of a usual routine, and you’re not sure how you’ll be able to carry on. So you cry yourself to sleep and wish to hear their voice and see their face, but when you do; you cry more. Because that’s just a reminder that they’re not with you anymore. You can no longer feel their touch, or their eyes search deep within your soul. You wrap yourself in blankets and duvets to feel the warmth that your body craves. And no matter how close you are to this person, or how often you talk; there’s always that little thought in the back of your mind that they may someday give up on you. That you may drift into different worlds of late nights and caffeine overload. Your eyes get heavy and your breathing gets shorter and sleep is the only answer. But you never understand why. Why you feel these things, or anything really.

And I guess that’s the worst part about distance - the feeling and the not knowing why.

Venetia Law (venxtia)