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(Source: angeltear)

Via A Blazing Mirror

I never was important enough to be able to hurt people with my actions or words.

You made writing a priority in your life because you had a story to tell, and you owe it to yourself, your story, and your characters to complete this journey.

– Sandra Salas (via wordscount)

(Source: paperbacks2postcards)

Via W R I T E W O R L D

(I don’t know what this is but I’m not trying to make sense anymore…)

The girl ran away from the Devil, and towards the sun; but the sun was cold and ran faster than her. She was left with the night and stopped running. She turned around and apologized to the Devil. Perhaps he could have taught her a thing or two as well. Like, how to shout louder, and how to let go. Hell is warm of its own warmth, even in winter. To her frozen heart, that thought looked like a chance. Like the possibility of happiness. Like your lover’s hoodie when you’re naked the morning after. She felt naked, and cold, and with a card left for her on the bedside. A card without a name, that said thank you, and meant goodbye.


knots and knots and twists
and intricate contortions
and tied-up turmoil
and oh god where shall I begin
where can I begin
to unravel these thoughts
and put them in order
any order
and make sense
at least to me
of this disorder
it’s my disorder
and so unknown
I feel it here
behind my eyes
just in my stomach
(all a mess)
and I can’t hold in my hands
the sense
and it’s behind my eyes
and it’s everywhere
but I can’t understand
and it leaves me wordless

Redeem me
consume me with my own tears
Free my heart from a body
that doesn’t listen to its beat;
lay it on the ground,
may a tree be my tombstone
so that my blood could finally be
become one with life

(or will it paint the leaves red
and make them too die?)


I am trying… there are just so many pieces everywhere….

(Source: the-intact)

My Mind Likes To Linger Over Missed Chances

Fragments of defeated nights
colour my dreams with thorny flowers.
The wind alone will carry
the petals and whisper their secrets,
bedtime stories will never know.

Shards of possibilities
broken by the rising sun
cover my bed like thoughts and dewdrops.
Her smile donated the seed
of a future that will never bloom.


Words carried on paper planes
to dissolve under the rain
like the voice you choked…

A puppet you left without
strings and scripts and parts to play;
I danced like you told me to
when we left you went your way

You were nobody, I just…
lost your smile and some more hope.

Today’s assignment, from the L word:

2x06: Lagrimas De Oro (source)

Charlotte: You know what, Jenny, hold on. I have an assignment for you. […] Try not speaking for the rest of the day. Not a word. Try communicating all your needs without using audible language.

Jenny: Why?

Charlotte: Don’t ask why, just try it. And then, write me an essay about your experience.

Let’s do this. (With or without essay. Not a word, not even when talking to myself. Unless I get to sing)

To Tumblr, Love Metalab