I am sick with feeling, and sick with greed This warmth inside, my heart, it needs It needs and wants and yearns and pines I’m grossly ill, right to my insides An involuntary glutton, for this intrusive drug A drought that some would say was love But I know better, yes, I do This feeling inside does not include: –Include the flaws, include the faults Include the pain, or nasty insults The tears that my pillow will soak The late, dark nights I stay up and mope– To hear a knock on my open door To await a kiss to make lips’ sore There is no love to cause some joy It’s only a plot, a sick smart ploy To win some land, property to keep To share with friends, a rumor to leak So lock the heart shut, and hide the key far So no one may touch, or move, or mar But late at night, when all must sleep My eyes stay awake, with dreams to reap To dream of things that live and feed Of the love that I so desperately need
Leilah Ali, The Truth About Love (via wnq-writers)
What is love?
The Red Hot 100 exhibition challenges social stigma towards ‘gingers’ by celebrating the modern-day, red-haired male
I can be someone’s and still be my own.
Shel Silverstein (via wordsnquotes)
Books are lovely
Librarian, guardian of the words / Bibliotecario, guardian de las palabras (ilustración de Christelle le Guen)
writing it down is the easy part, it’s saying it aloud that gets me every time.
heroffbeatinfinity (via wnq-writers)
Hard to speak.
With him she felt like a paradox both safe and vulnerable.
shadyombre (via wordsnquotes)
We are what our thoughts have made us; so take care about what you think. Words are secondary. Thoughts live; they travel far.
Swami Vivekananda (via wordsnquotes)
You’ve got to let go of who you were, to become who you will be.
Janet Fitch (via wordsnquotes)
Working on it
She watches the sky so often Her eyes began to resemble the stars. (She finds a home in the loneliest of places.)
A.N.S. (via wordsnquotes)
Do not pass me off as a delicate flower. I’ve bled like you. I’ve scrapped the skin on my knees and ripped the seams of my fingertips like any other man. And just as a man, I’ve ached in my bones and forged fury from my person. I am as delicate as a flower with prickly thorns.
splenduit (via wnq-writers)
Beauty can be found everywhere.
We were honored to help Jordanians and Syrian refugees breakthrough conflict and come together to build this beautiful new girls’ school in Za’atari Village.
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