We’ll Burn That Bridge When We Get To It

bedfish:

i think part of growing up is understanding song lyrics

(via wuestensturm)

feral-ballad:

Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak; “Concerns from a hot-boxed jeep”

[Text ID: “How do I stop / carrying everything / that had ever / happened to me?”]

theoptia:

Henri Michaux, from Five Poems by Henri Michaux; “Repose In Unhappiness”

Text ID: I am the ruin you made.

goodreadss:

““My sister told me a soul mate is not the person who makes you the happiest but the one who makes you feel the most, who conducts your heart to bang the loudest, who can drag you giggling with forgiveness from the cellar they locked you in. It has always been you.””

— Sierra Demulder, Love, Forgive Me

(via wuestensturm)

fighting-ghosts:

(via enjoli-paige-deactivated2023071)

Let me tell you a short story about timing.

It never seems to be right.