⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Unfortunately I can't be your cool nonchalant mysterious partner and would be jealous of each and every single human who has the privilege to see your smile, look you in the eye, hold your hand and simply be in your presence ever.

i’m like touch starved but for a river

propaganda i am not falling for:

always moving on. some goodbyes need to rot a little. some griefs need to be held in the mouth like a stone.

beauty defined by algorithms. beauty exists in crow feet and smile lines

pretending to be chill. i’m not chill. i care deeply and inconveniently. i read into things. i write poems about eye contact

beige apartments with no soul. give me bookshelves and incense and loud art

sneaky links and unclear intentions. i want devotion. and also clarity

treating books as decor. read them. dog-ear them. argue with them in the margins

Virginia Woolf, from The Waves

You possibly can't save others around you when you yourself are drowning