Love always wakes up the dragon and
suddenly…
flames everywhere.
31.3.13
30.3.13
my memory loves you...
my memory loves you; it asks about you all the time…
Marte Mei van Haaster by Kacper Kasprzyk for i-D Spring 2012
29.3.13
my heart...
My heart feels so heavy and I don't know how to carry it.
-sharon dogar, annexed
Amanda Nørgaard for smug magazine spring 2012, ph by Joachim Johnson
28.3.13
I am tired...
I am being tired of knowing nothing and being reminded of it all the time.
-F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender is the Night
photographed by Marcus Tomlinson for Visionaire #25: Visionairy
27.3.13
too late...
There are worse things
than being alone
but it often takes
decades to realize this
and most often when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
than too late”.
than being alone
but it often takes
decades to realize this
and most often when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
than too late”.
25.3.13
as you think...
As you think, you travel, and as you love, you attract.
You are today where your thoughts have brought you; you will be tomorrow where your thoughts take you.
“Magic of light”. Photographed by Paolo Roversi for Vogue Korea May 2011
23.3.13
and then...
and then she would smile,
to show me how,
and it was the saddest smile I ever saw
"a glimpse inside my world” photographed by sarah moon for vogue nippon, may 2007
— Charles Bukowski (via
21.3.13
i was going to cry...
I was going to cry.
I didn't know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of my throat and I'd cry for a week.
I could feel the tears brimming and sloshing in me like water in a glass that is unsteady and too full.
'a black and white poem', vogue turkey march 2012, sarah moon
20.3.13
you...
You are always ticking inside of me and I dream of you more often than I don't.
My body is a dead language and you pronounce each word perfectly.
sierra demulder, from unrequited love poem
anOther magazine, fall 2011, 'the singing silhouette' by sarah moon
19.3.13
18.3.13
at the time...
at the time, my life just
seemed too complete and
maybe we have to break
everything to make something
better out of ourselves
shalom harlow shot by cass bird
16.3.13
why...
Why do I weep for your pain,
When I know it will heal you.
Because we are of one
And nobody wept for me
When I was all out of tears.
gemma ward by nick knight for w magazine november 2005
14.3.13
13.3.13
they say...
11.3.13
In a month's time...
In a month's time I may feel differently,
but at the moment I am prepared to swear
that I would like nothing better that to spend
the rest of my life
picking the fallen hairs from your shoulders.
I would grow out my fingernails just for that purpose.
I would give up the ocean
for the mud puddles of your eyes.
We could move to South Dakota
and howl among the tornadoes
and stomp across the prairies
and fall asleep in each other's arms
as sweat pools in the crevices of our elbows
and crop-dusters drone overhead.
Sibohan Harrity, “Love Poem”
sweet dreams are made of this by marco rea
9.3.13
this...
This is what it means to live on.
When granted hope, a person uses it as fuel, as a guidepost to life.
It is impossible to live without hope.
— Haruki Murakami - 1Q84
8.3.13
dreams...
the air is depleting from
my longs and I'm too
tired to tell you I love
you
but I know I'll see you
in my dreams tonight
even if you visit me as
a frightening black demon.
7.3.13
5.3.13
everything...
you're not real anymore
and I don't think I am
either; you forgot so
easily
and I'm trying, but how does
one forget when we had
everything?
2.3.13
it's one thing...
it's one thing
to tell her
she's beautiful
but
it's another thing
to make her
feel it too.
'broken ballerina'. anna schilling by justin cooper for wound spring 2008
1.3.13
don't...
Don't leave me,
Don't leave me here
alone.
My thoughts are killing me
slowly, painfully,
noiseless.
Sorry, I cannot hold you
with thousands arms.
Sorry, I cannot even hold you.
Sorry,
I cannot even hold myself
(together).
kiera gormley by arthur meehan, dec 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
