Pensar Que No La Tengo. Sentir Que La He Perdido.
Haydėe | Mėxico
Cis: she/her
(Source: julieterbang, via skellydun)
admit it, we’ve all fantasised about slow-dancing in the kitchen barefoot in our pyjamas at 2am in the arms of someone we love while old romantic jazz songs play softly on the radio
when franz kafka said “i could have built the pyramids with the effort it takes me to cling on to life and reason”
(via spacebaby2001)
(Source: instagram.com, via breakup)
“Mama, if you’re listening,
I’m so terribly sorry,
but I did not mean to love that beast
of a man. I did not even wear
that red cape, those red shoes
just the armful of poppies
and maybe they looked like blood
or maybe they looked like healing
but I found him first,
and dropped them like bloodstains
on the forest floor.
Mama, he was howling,
and oh, if you’d heard,
the oh, of his grief
even the moon was crying for him
even the night was weeping
mama, I know that we met on the edge
of some awful precipice
but he folded my hands into his claws
made sure they didn’t draw blood
I asked him about his dark and he said
‘who will love me now?’
I did, mama.
I fell in love with him then,
And he took me home and kissed me
till my heart looked like pulp
and we undressed each other from the inside out
and we loved till it was brimming
and mama, it was a disaster
and it was devastating
and it was light.
I lost your poppies.
I lost myself, too.
And now there’s a beast and he’s crying
and he’s asking ‘who will love me now?’
And mama, I didn’t mean to but I will,
I will.”Azra.T || Red Riding Hood
(via 5000letters)
“You kiss the back of my legs and I want to cry. Only / the sun has come this close, only the sun.”— Shauna Barbosa, from “GPS,” Cape Verdean Blues
(Source: lifeinpoetry, via 5000letters)
(Source: timotaychalamet, via survness)