im sophia and i have a secret crush on calum hood
“i want to apologize to all the women i have called beautiful
before i’ve called them intelligent or brave
i am sorry i made it sound as though
something as simple as what you’re born with
is all you have to be proud of
when you have broken mountains with your wit
from now on i will say things like
you are resilient, or you are extraordinary
not because i don’t think you’re beautiful
but because i need you to know
you are more than that”
“Softness is not weakness.
It takes courage to stay delicate
in a world this cruel.”
Beau Taplin || Shed your sharp edges. (via child-of-wolf)
“Cigarettes look so harmless but then again so did you”
10 word story (via undersstand)
“I do my thing and you do your thing. You are you and I am I. And if in the end we end up together, it’s beautiful.”
Topanga Lawrence - Boy Meets World (via cityandcolourblind)
You are 12. You’re at the library looking for some generic young adult fiction novel about a girl who falls for her best friend. Your dad makes a disgusted face. “This is about lesbians,” he says. The word falls out of his mouth as though it pains him. You check out a different book and cry when you get home, but you aren’t sure why. You learn that this is not a story about you, and if it is, you are disgusting.
You are 15. Your relatives are fawning over your cousin’s new boyfriend. “When will you have a boyfriend?” they ask. You shrug. “Maybe she’s one of those lesbians,” your grandpa says. You don’t say anything. You learn that to find love and acceptance from your family, you need a boyfriend who thinks you are worthy of love and acceptance.
You are 18. Your first boyfriend demands to know why you never want to have sex with him. He tells you that sex is normal and healthy. You learn that something is wrong with you.
You are 13. You’re at a pool party with a relative’s friend’s daughter. “There’s this lesbian in my gym class. It’s so gross,” she says. “Ugh, that’s disgusting,” another girl adds. They ask you, “do you have any lesbians at your school?” You tell them no and they say you are lucky. You learn to stay away from people.
You are 20. You have coffee with a girl and you can’t stop thinking about her for days afterwards. You learn the difference between a new friendship and new feelings for a person.
You are 13. Your mom is watching a movie. You see two girls kiss on screen. You feel butterflies and this sense that you identify with the girls on the screen. Your mom gets up and covers the screen. You learn that if you are like those girls, no one wants to see it.
You are 20. You and your friends are drunk and your ex-boyfriend dares you to make out with your friend. You both agree. You touch her face. It feels soft and warm. Her lips are small and her hands feel soft on your back. You learn the difference between being attracted to someone and recognizing that someone you care about is attractive.
You are 16. You find lesbian porn online. Their eyes look dead and their bodies are positioned in a way that you had never imagined. You learn that liking girls is acceptable if straight men can decide the terms.
You are 20. You are lying next to a beautiful girl and talking about everything. You tell her things that you don’t usually tell anyone. You learn how it feels not to want to go to sleep because you don’t want to miss out on any time with someone.
You are 15. Your parents are talking about a celebrity. Your dad has a grin on his face and says, “her girlfriend says that she’s having the best sex of her life with her!” You learn that being a lesbian is about the kind of sex you have and not how you love.
You are 18. You are in intro to women’s and gender studies. “Not all feminists are lesbians- I love my husband! Most of the feminists on our leadership team are straight! It’s just a stereotype,” the professor exclaims. You learn that lesbianism is something to separate yourself from.
You are 21 and you are kissing a beautiful girl and she’s your girlfriend and you understand why people write songs and make movies and stupid facebook statuses about this and time around you just seems to stop and you could spend forever like this and you learn that there is nothing wrong with you and you are falling in love.
You are 21. And you are okay.”
a thing I wrote after arguing with an insensitive dude on facebook all day or Things Other People Taught me about Liking Girls (via samanticshift)
“When I’m lying in my bed I think about life and I think about death and neither one particularly appeals to me.”
Morrissey (via durianseeds)
“Open my legs and bury your secret wishes in my sacred grounds. I won’t tell anyone, just whisper sweetnesses into my hollow bones. Make flowers sprout freely from my ribs, make me feel alive. Tell me I’m not as fucked up as I think I am. Tell me I am a goddess, christ, tell me I’m immortal, I’ll believe it.”
a short poem for naive lovers (via wnterish)
Week 1: I tried to drown myself in tears and the white wine my mother left in the pantry but your image kept pulling me back to the surface to choke on the past.
Week 2: I tried to turn up my headphones so close to bursting that they would push your laugh out of my mind but all I could hear was memories.
Week 3: I tried to rip up the pictures and smash the frame with my bloody fists and burn the paper lily you gave me once but every piece broke my heart a little more.
Week 4: I tried to rid my body of your touch so I ripped open my skin and blood poured out of my veins but you were still there in the center of my chest and how do you get rid of that.
Week 5: I tried to rid myself of every last bit of you stuck in every corner and crevice of my aching soul so I picked up the pills and held them in my hands for a long time, dizzy with so much power.
Week 6: I poured the pills and the razors and the pictures and the paper lily you made me once into a pile of memories that look like a pit to hell and I set all of it on fire so my soul could die too. Those things became all of me, so I died and became a phoenix and cried tears of healing.
Week 7: I saw you driving with your mother in that green car where we held hands in the backseat on the way to your house for the first time and I got carsick. You gave me ice cream and rubbed my hand in a way that gave me chills up my entire body. Seeing your face felt like someone lit my insides on fire. Probably you.
Week 8: It’s 3am and I keep opening your message box but the line keeps flashing and my hands stay still because I have nothing to say to you. I miss your words that were only for me.
Week 9: I hate you but I love you and I can’t think straight because all I see is your face again and again until I want to vomit all the memories and accusations and words that made me feel like my heart was turning inside out and I never mattered to you anyways.
Week 10: You never loved me but I loved you and every morning that thought is bitter in my mouth so I brush my teeth and rid myself of the taste of you and go downstairs to kiss someone who cares.”
ten stages of a heart break
inspired by the works of porn4smartgirls(via skimply)
Oh—you wouldn’t date a girl who’s ever been a stripper?
In that case, I wouldn’t date a guy who’s ever been to a strip club.
Oh—you wouldn’t date a girl who’s ever done porn?
In that case, I wouldn’t date a guy who’s ever watched porn.
You’re the reason we exist.
You’re the demand to our supply.
If you disdain sex workers, don’t you dare consume our labor.
As they say in the industry, “People jack off with the left hand and point with the right.””
“I’m still hoping it’s you and me in the end.”
10-Word Story #26 (N.A.)
“Maybe one day it’ll go away. Maybe one day I won’t give a fuck about anything.”
Luke Hemmings in “Rock Sound” (via heartbrakegirl)