Two Parts Joy
I'm Sarah. I'm an Oregonian, currently calling Boston home and going to school at Northeastern.
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Link reblogged from Two Parts Joy
Okay, as a rule, I never re-blog myself. But I’d really just like to express how floored I am and how grateful I am for all of the attention this piece of mine has gotten. It’s such an honor to feel like I’ve written something that has resonated to so many people. Thank you all so much.
Please, decide to fall in love with her suddenly, do not falter,
you are the thunderstorm we never predicted. I am soaked, shivering
through the breath from your mouth dancing down her throat, but
I will sit here no matter how miserable your storm. Rain quickly.
Love her torrentially and show me I do nothing to incite the spectacular.
You are not the first time I have cried myself to sleep.
You are not the first night I have not slept, looking for a clearer horizon
at the break of the next day. You are not special. She is the sunrise,
pulling at the corners of the universe to bring it down to you.
I am sitting at a keyboard, writing you letters you will never read.
Love her now. Love her when you do not have time, when you are too tired,
when you feel too far away to make her happy, when the rain falls, when the sun rises,
when she says you’re all she ever wants, when I am busy loving you—
Love her. -
Tumblr Crushes:
- feloniousskunk
- counciloftrent
- paulshortie
- cozydecomposingwires
- dessertbeforedessert
- anchored
- teeteringinbetween
- tricyclebrigade
- strawberrykiwijuice
Seriously, these people are so flawless. You should all just go love all of them right now.
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Goddamn it, we cannot continue to sacrifice our bodies to fuel our obsession with human flesh. One day there will be hemlines too short, necklines too low, and fabric too sheer for our mortal capacity to carry their repercussions.
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Quote reblogged fromBut in the end it wasn’t up to me. The big things never are. Birth, I mean, and death. And love. And what love bequeaths to us before we’re born.Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex (via helplesslyamazed)
(Source: quote-book)
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Photo reblogged from We will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.
“I don’t suppose I really know you very well - but I know you smell like the delicious damp grass that grows near old walls and that your hands are beautiful opening out of your sleeves and that the back of your head is a mossy sheltered cave when there is trouble in the wind and that my cheek just fits the depression in your shoulder.”
—Zelda Fitzgerald, in a letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald
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Then one day I kissed you with chapped lips, they became smooth again, and I finally realized what love feels like.
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Video reblogged from Romanticism has little to do with Romance
Sierra DeMulder-Werewolf
I am sharing space inside of her brain and she doesn’t even know. This is amazing.
This woman inspires me more than I could ever explain.
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Note to self: re-learn how to play your damn saxophone. Stop giving up on things you love.
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I’ve spent hours in second-hand shops looking for the shelf where you left me your smile.
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Photo reblogged from teaching literacy.
from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
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I do not know how to tell the world I love him.
He is speaking the cues for me in whispers
as I write the definition of adoration in breaths
across the ridges on his wrists where life slipped out
and my soul sinks in—a panacea for Broken.Please do not kiss deeply enough
to drown me in your medication. -
WHITE FEMALE SEEKING HANDWRITTEN LETTERS IN EXCHANGE FOR TYPEWRITTEN LETTERS AND ETERNAL LOVE.
