Not all those who wander are lost
Have the strength to be true to yourself even if you don't know who you are yet - Paulo Coelho
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I am not the first person you loved.
You are not the first person I looked at
with a mouthful of forevers. We
have both known loss like the sharp edges
of a knife. We have both lived with lips
more scar tissue than skin. Our love came
unannounced in the middle of the night.
Our love came when we’d given up
on asking love to come. I think
that has to be part
of its miracle.

This is how we heal.
I will kiss you like forgiveness. You
will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms
will bandage and we will press promises
between us like flowers in a book.
I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat
on your skin. I will write novels to the scar
of your nose. I will write a dictionary
of all the words I have used trying
to describe the way it feels to have finally,
finally found you.

And I will not be afraid
of your scars.

I know sometimes
it’s still hard to let me see you
in all your cracked perfection,
but please know:
whether it’s the days you burn
more brilliant than the sun
or the nights you collapse into my lap
your body broken into a thousand questions,
you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I will love you when you are a still day.
I will love you when you are a hurricane.


Clementine von Radics, Mouthful of Forevers  (via thatkindofwoman)

Sheesh. That’s beautiful. (via wherehappinesslives)

(Source: lovemestarkly, via wherehappinesslives)

My mind vanishes
from time to time but never
do you from my mind.

Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)

(via tylerknott)

I do not know how to tell you
what I am feeling.

You ask, and
my tongue strangles itself.
It chokes itself silent.

Under my heart,
there is a wellspring
of things I wish I could
tell you, and my tongue
is the cork stoppering
them up. It is the sentinel
warden at the gate, letting
none of the prisoners through.

I wish I could drive a spile
under my ribs
and let it all pour out for you.


“The Traitor Tongue and the Wellspring Heart”, Gabriel Gadfly (via commovente)

(via writingsforwinter)

We must stop wishing
and simply start the building
of the life we want.

Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson

(via tylerknott)

(via tylerknott)

printed-ink: He and I by Lang Leav.
printed-ink: 1000scientists: Blood Piece by Yoko Ono
From Whitney Frank’s “Instructions for Destruction: Yoko Ono’s Performance Art”:
Painting with one’s own blood is simultaneously a deeply personal act, as the artist uses a foundational substance of life to paint, and an extremely violent act as death is the final stroke of the painting. Ono of course, did not intend for people to literally complete this instruction; but she herself originally composed Blood Piece with her pricked finger.
This piece also relates to Fluxus values and practice because with her instruction to paint with one’s own blood, Ono illuminates the absurdity of being so serious about art production that one is willing to die for it—a seriousness projected in Western modern art and the source of Fluxus’s counternarrative. Blood Piece is a macabre demonstration that shows how anyone can become an artist since the tools are already within each person. In this case, it is not natural talent running through an artist’s veins that makes them worthy of recognition, but rather the blood, a basic feature of life all humans share, is an artistic medium worth exploring.