"So often we try to make other people feel better by minimizing their pain, by telling them that it will get better (which it will) or that there are worse things in the world (which there are). But that’s not what I actually needed. What I actually needed was for someone to tell me that it hurt because it mattered.
I have found this very useful to think about over the years, and I find that it is a lot easier and more bearable to be sad when you aren’t constantly berating yourself for being sad."
John Green (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
"When nobody else celebrates you, learn to celebrate yourself. When nobody else compliments you, then compliment yourself. It’s not up to other people to keep you encouraged. It’s up to you. Encouragement should come from the inside."
Joel Osteen (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
"Do not make
out of people.
This will leave you
missing arms that
Michelle K., Home. (via illseeyousoon-then)
"When sex becomes a production or performance that is when it loses its value. Be mutual. Be loud. Be clumsy. Make noises, be quiet, and make a mess. Bite, scratch, push, pull, hold, thrust. Remove pressure from the moment. Love the moment. Embrace it. Enjoy your body; enjoy your partners’ body. Produce sweat, be natural, entice your senses, give into pleasure. Bump heads, miss when you kiss, laugh when it happens. Speak words, speak with your body, speak to their soul. Touch their skin, kiss their goose bumps, and play with their hair. Scream, beg, whimper, sigh, let your toes curl, lose yourself. Chase your breath; keep the lights on, watch their eyes when they explode. Forget worrying about extra skin, sizes of parts and things that are meaningless. Save the expectations, take each second as it comes. Smear your make up, mess up your hair, rid your masculinity, and lose your ego. Detonate together, collapse together, and melt into each other."
I remember it like one of those old circus stunts, you know,
the ones a father would bring his child to see
chaotic and crazed and exciting and breathtaking until the performer, well she,
off her tightrope; a balancing act she just couldn’t keep up for that length of time
I watched in horror, my innocent eyes witnessing such an unexpected,
failure. I fell with her.
and my father, he gasped. he had never expected to bring me
to a place like this, that would harm me.
he never knew it would have.
a story Roney told me
it was early. i went down to the diner
and celebrated thanksgiving.
leftover dinner specials
are pretty classy.
five in the morning, a little place at the far end of town.
two other people,
a woman across the room smoking a cigarette, staring blankly out a window
the other, a man reading a newspaper, on his fourth cup of coffee
it was better than yesterday,
spending time with a bunch of barflies,
in a depressing dive,
thats not the way to live life.
I don’t mean to project into the future,
Because I know the importance of today,
Is more important than a ‘could be’,
But sometimes my mind does what it’s told not to.
And I think about what our children will be like.
I’ve heard you say they’ll be rich,
Though I think that’s just a dream.
And I’ve heard you say they won’t exist.
But which one is it?
Because you may hate those little fuckers at times,
And sometimes I do too,
But some part of you must know how amazing you’d be,
As a father.
It’s quite a blur now.
I’ve been sober all my life, but that afternoon I was drunk.
On you, of course.
Give me a moment; I’ll remember pieces of it.
There was a song, but I honestly can’t name it,
It was loud and it was yours and I adored it.
And there was your arm. Beside me. It was close enough to touch.
Had I leaned in just a little more, our skin would have brushed.
But I’m not sure if that was before or after I began to fall in love with you.
Then there were your lips, and by that time, I must have started to fall,
Because I couldn’t even tell you how much time had passed by,
With them pressed to mine.
All I know for sure was that you were the best drink I’d ever had.
The only one that got me drunk.
You never knew exactly when it happened.
Because, with your head buried in my neck, how could you have seen?
But I remember my tears, as we made love to
The rhythm of Neutral Milk Hotel and the light of a red Yankee Candle.
It was the first time in a while, that I’d cried for a good reason.
I couldn’t help myself.
The warmth of your body, and the motion in your hips,
Your lips and your heart and the sound of your breath,
I couldn’t help myself.
I’d never expected that falling in love would feel that free or that close,
But that night, you broke down my walls, and cleansed my soul
And what mattered before, ceased to matter anymore.
I can’t remember the last time I wrote anything down,
But you left today, and I nearly cried
Knowing you’d be back soon enough,
Didn’t make it feel like much less than forever.
And I should start writing again, because I love you
I’m sure I’d have a lot to say, once I got started.
Look, I know this poem is nothing but a piece of shit,
But give me a break. It’s been a while.
And you’re beautiful.
And I’ve never loved so hard.
And I can’t imagine living without this
Feeling in my chest.
Forgive me, for my lack of skill, but writing with a rusty pen,
Is more difficult than it seems.
I just have some words, and they all relate to you,
And they fill me,
And I figured I’d say them because without them, I’d be empty.
And hungry isn’t good, the way I thought it was back then.