My dreams have been sucking me in, blurred lines between realities. I know I'm dreaming, but part of me wishes I wasn't. I'm at odds with the reality I'm living and the one I dreamed up in my room at 15 years old. Boe falling asleep comes with dread cause these dreams feel more like nightmares.
0 notes
Will I forever be contemplating whether or not I am the villain?
0 notes
Grit your teeth, but later, you'll tell me you love me this time. I know you won't mean it.
0 notes
Every day I choose you. I chose you 4 years ago and I've chosen you every day since. So why is it too much to ask that I be worshipped, bathed in love and sunlight. Why is it too much to ask that I be appreciated? Why is love not what I dreamed it to be? Why aren't you what I need you to be? Why can't you love me the way you swear up and down that you do?
4 notes
·
View notes
Susan Abulhawa, from Against the Loveless World: A Novel
[Text ID: “I wanted to be chosen, maybe loved. I wanted out of my life, out of my skin,”]
30K notes
·
View notes
Wordy by aavfvl
27K notes
·
View notes
It's not that I wasn't happy, it's just in our 5years I've cried more than I smiled.
3 notes
·
View notes
My pain will forever just be words to you. A terribly lonesome realization.
-polaris-solaris
16 notes
·
View notes
Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner/Jaun beaur
Almost, Almost, almo...
17K notes
·
View notes
“Once more, I was faced with someone I understood who could neither read me, nor see me, nor perceive me.”
— Anaïs Nin, from The Diary of Anaïs Nin: Volume Six: 1955-1966.
4K notes
·
View notes
2K notes
·
View notes
Do you remember what the first winter was like? I do. Do you remember the late nights? I do. Do you remember the hurt and ache so constantly lulling in our chests? I do. I remember staying up after you'd slipped into your clumsy slumber, I remember my eyes dazzling with joy and smiling for days. I remember the tears that would dwell every time I saw your face cause my love came in an over abundance. I remember when I was shiny and new, I remember when I was everything to you. Am I anything now more than an obligation? Am I anything now more than the one that stuck? Am I anything now?
0 notes
About to have a huge regressive episode, bet you won't notice😜
0 notes
— Anne Sexton, Imitations of Drowning
13K notes
·
View notes
The Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1944–1947
34K notes
·
View notes
Marguerite Duras, from The Easy Life
Text ID: I was no one, I had neither name nor face. Moving through August, I was: nothing.
16K notes
·
View notes
“I feel very small. I don't understand. I have so much courage, fire, energy, for many things, yet I get so hurt, so wounded by small things.”
Anaïs Nin, from nearer the moon: the previously unpublished unexpurgated diary,1937-1939
26K notes
·
View notes