Tig is my queen

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And we all know love is a glass which makes even a monster appear fascinating.
— Alberto Moravia, The Woman of Rome (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)
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To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things: to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.

Mary Oliver, from “In Blackwater Woods (via violentwavesofemotion)
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You kiss me with your mouth wide open like you’re not afraid of swallowing poison. I taste the good and bad in you and want them both. We call this bravery.
— Anita Ofokansi, Literary Sexts (via larmoyante)
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I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it— to be fed so much love I couldn’t take any more. Just once.
— Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood (via durianseeds)
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…because we know each other, crack and flaw,
like two irregular stones that fit together.
— Adrienne Rich, from Stepping Backward (via violentwavesofemotion)
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You take the things you love
and tear them apart,
or you pin them down with your body
and pretend they’re yours.
— Richard Siken, from “A Primer for Small Weird Loves” (via hellanne)
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Don’t you dare, for one minute,
believe that my kindness makes me
anything but insurmountable.
I did not unzip my chest to every kind of hurt,
and stagger back, wounded and alive,
just to hear you call me weak for trying.
I opened my door to Heartache—
I gave her the fucking key.
My softness for wayward strangers
has made me nothing less
than a halfway house for aching soles.
So when you open your mouth
and call me ‘baby’
understand that I am not your next victim
in a laundry list of broken girls.
You think I don’t know you? People like you?
People with mouths for hands.
I’ve got skin like topsoil
and your teeth could never take root.
So when you go looking to make a plaything
of a sunburst,
you better look for someone with less fire
than me.
Because softness or no,
I will eat you alive
before I let you make a meal of me.
Ashe Vernon, “Softness” (via latenightcornerstore)
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Just thinking of her now and I’m lost, lost in the smell of her, the way of her and everything she conjures up inside me, a mad rush of folly and oddly muted lusts, sensations sublimated faster than I can follow.
Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves (via hush-syrup)
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Hell is when the people you love the most reach right into your soul and rip it out of you. And they do it because they can.
— Jess Rothenberg, The Catastrophic History of You and Me (via larmoyante)
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The only love I want in this world is yours and if I can’t have it, I want another world.
— Tealia Imani [vxis] (via vxis)
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i could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; i would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. i would know him in death, at the end of the world.
the song of achilles by madeline miller (via wellconstructedsentences)
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Everyone’s chest
is a living room wall
with awkwardly placed photographs
hiding fist-shaped holes.
— Andrea Gibson, “Class” (via millionen)
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