“And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.”—Sylvia Plath (via mourningforthepast)
it’s been driving me crazy. i think 5 out of 7 days last week i was pregnant in my dreams. and i can physically feel the baby inside me. sometimes i go into labor, sometimes i actually give birth. it’s bizarre. i don’t know what any of it means.
“I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. Even now, when people lean down to touch me, or hug me, to put a hand on my shoulder, I hold my breath. I turn my face. I want to cry.”—Wasted, Marya Hornbacher. (via dreamandwake)
“This is you. Eyes closed, out in the rain. You never thought you’d be doing something like this, you never saw yourself as, I don’t know how you’d describe it… Is like one of those people who like looking up at the moon, who spend hours gazing at the waves or the sunset or… I guess you know the kind of people I’m talking about. Maybe you don’t. Anyway, you kind of like being like this, fighting the cold, feeling the water seep through your shirt and getting through your skin. And the feel of the ground growing soft beneath your feet. And the smell. And the sound of the rain hitting the leaves. All the things they talked about in the books you haven’t read. This is you, who would have guessed it? You.”—
“I know exactly how that is. To love somebody who doesn’t deserve it. Because they are all you have. Because any attention is better than no attention. For exactly the same reason, it is sometimes satisfying to cut yourself and bleed. On those gray days where eight in the morning looks no different from noon and nothing has happened and nothing is going to happen and you are washing a glass in the sink and it breaks-accidentally-and punctures your skin. And then there is this shocking red, the brightest thing in the day, so vibrant it buzzes, this blood of yours. That is okay sometimes because at least you know you’re alive.”—Running With Scissors (via poeticheartache) (via wordsarentenough)
“We only write about two feelings: one is the first day of summer when you and all of your friends are standing on the edge of a cliff watching the sun set and being overcome with all of your hopes and dreams at once. The other is when you’re walking alone in the rain and realize you will be alone forever.”—Jonathan Pierce, The Drums (via saddest-summer)