Summer In The City Drenches Everything In This Unbearable Sticky Heat,

“Sure I loved him - too much. And he loved me, only not enough. I just want someone who thinks I’m number one in his life. I’m not willing to accept emotional scraps anymore.”

— Amy Tan (via purplebuddhaquotes)

in the kitchen baking cake, dodging our cats underneath our bare feet singing to amy winehouse with wooden spoons as microphones. god, don’t I love you like flowers love the spring, sweetheart. god, don’t you look beautiful with your head titled back belting out back to black, sunlight streaming in through the window, with a mouth full of batter and a heart full of love.

I love the fact that you need to lean on me, a boy says. 

He loved my vulnerability and how big I made him feel, 

But would get annoyed if I’d call him in the midst of another anxiety attack, 

Begging to know if he still loved me,

 if he still wanted me.

He called me his broken little thing. 

Wrote a play and in it I stabbed myself with a blade.

I would write him a suicide note thanking him for his bravery and his charm.

He finds me on the floor, cries over me and goes on to be a doctor, 

It’s only now that I realise he never loved me. 

He just loved the control.

you hurt me. convinced me that the light that possessed our bodies was liquid love. ruined me. all that brightness ruined me. i have holes in me now. darkness poking through my skin and seeping from my bones. haunted now.

“In a shaky voice, he said: bring me back to you, or bring me back to myself. don’t leave me standing in between.”

texts between angels trying to live as mortals by keaton st. james

“You learn that the only way to get rock-star power as a girl is to be a groupie and bare your breasts and get chosen for the night. We learn that the only way to get anywhere is through men. And it’s a lie.”

— Kathleen Hanna, of Bikini Kill, Le Tigre, and The Julie Ruin

when I tell you that you make me feel safe, it means something. I’m saying that you make me feel like a flower in a garden and I’ve spent my whole life feeling like a weed growing out of concrete. I’m saying that I love you so much that I’ll let you witness my wounds up close, under the harsh light. exposed, raw...but isn’t love being vulnerable in front of you and knowing that you still love me. you still love me. you still love me. wounds, flaws and all.