Just Because I Plan To Destroy You In The Bedroom, Doesn't Mean That I Won't Worship You At Every Opportunity

I'm not sure if this will come out right but:

Being loved is NOT a reward for being beneficial or useful in any way. You don't become less deserving of being loved if you aren't productive for a day or if you have a bad day and can't get out of bed.

I promise. Being loved has nothing to do with how you "help" the world or those around you.

every overthinker should have someone to fuck them stupid

read literature. be present. make love. make tea. write a poem. cry. watch a sappy movie that makes you want to throw things at it. paint your nails. cook something. call your best friend. learn an instrument. wonder. take a bath. go for a walk. lie down on the grass. listen to the entirety of ur favorite album from 2016. take pics of sunsets. ponder. shamelessly dance in your room. curl up on your bed. make endless wishes to the stars twinkling in the midnight sky. think about nothing. think about everything. think about things so hard that you barely remember what happened moments ago and why you’re feeling the way you do

so needy i want someone’s fingers to slide into me while they pant out a “fuck” because of how wet i am

The exposed neck: from the accessory nerve (emerging) to the vocal fold. © Mosby/McMinn

“I don’t want to be a burden” you’re more like a relief, a gift, a blessing actually

my love language: making sure you feel safe enough to be vulnerable with me.

Let me love you possessively. Let me slip into your mind and take root, curling around your thoughts until I am in everything.

Let me take care of you, not just when you're soft and willing in my arms, but when the world is too loud, and it feels like you're breaking at the seams.

Let me show you that the only one who’s allowed to break you… is me. Because I will break you beautifully.

I will break you in moans and shivers, in tears and trembling gasps. I will break you with my hands, my mouth, my words until your body forgets how to hold itself up without my touch.

And then… I will put you back together.

Tenderly. Reverently. Over and over again, until you understand that the only way you’ll ever fall apart in this life… is so I can be the one to gather your pieces.

And kiss every part of you that you’ve been told is undeserving of love.

You are allowed to grieve for what you lost when you went through trauma. You are allowed to mourn. You are allowed to be angry. You are allowed to feel.