BREATHE

whoartgos:

A little while away
someone is sleeping happily

Their tiny toes wrestle to find light

While those nasty thoughts
finally find peace, tonight,
between sentimental stories of
failed poets and men

Will you believe in love still,
more than my hands?
Would you believe me now,
if I had a story to tell
or a humble plea?

I felt the earth drop through my
stomach when you said you were
leaving me…

The appropriation of BDSM imagery is problematic because while community members understand that it is important to be sensitive to the needs, boundaries, and rules of players in order for a scene to function fairly and enjoyably, mainstream porn is primarily about getting off as quickly as possible. Add to that a disgraceful lack of sexual education (both in safety and in pleasure) across the country, and a general belief perpetuated by the media that women are sexual objects to be consumed, and you have a rape culture that started by borrowing from BDSM’s imagery without reading its rules. by

Stacey May Fowles, The Fantasy of Acceptable “Non-Consent”: Why the Female Sexual Submissive Scares Us (and Why She Shouldn’t)

(Source: bitterglitterqueer, via eleiomomae)

Some people are like that, drenched in sorrow, despite the expression on their face. by Anne Michaels, The Winter Vault (via pigmenting)
arpeggia:

Herbert List - Stairway to Heaven, Rome, 1949 | More posts
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final. by Rainer Maria Rilke, from The Book of Hours (via liquidnight)

(via webbgirl88)

I am alone in a hostile world. by Virginia Woolf, from The Waves (via violentwavesofemotion)

(via fuckyeahvirginiawoolf)

fyeahheyrosetta:

my love, my love is dead i buried it

in the falling leaves, looking awful green, in the whipping wind

my love, my love is dead i buried it
and it’s better hid, all the shit we sling into the whipping wind

my love, my love is dead i buried it
just an honest kid, i always did everything they said

my love, my love is dead i buried it
what a senseless thing! this heart in shreds in the whipping wind!

99 plays
That summer I caught a butterfly
and devoured bowls of melons

but out of all those lies
“I love you” was most delicious. by Ocean Vuong, excerpt from “Summer Romance” (via pigmenting)
theme