Love, Bliss & Coffee

A Beautiful Life

357 notes

What a thing,
to be both starving and empty.
To ache for love—
to take the scraps from it’s table,
and yet, run sickly from the feast.

You can’t fathom why I’d
gobble your kisses but
duck your attention, please.
Understand—

Some of us have gone so long
hungry,
the idea of being full
feels worse
than the affliction.

LOVE DISORDERS AND OTHER OLD HEARTACHES, by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)

99 notes

Don’t you dare, for one minute,
believe that my kindness makes me
anything but insurmountable.
I did not unzip my chest to every kind of hurt,
and stagger back, wounded and alive,
just to hear you call me weak for trying.
I opened my door to Heartache—
I gave her the fucking key.
My softness for wayward strangers
has made me nothing less
than a halfway house for aching soles.
So when you open your mouth
and call me ‘baby’
understand that I am not your next victim
in a laundry list of broken girls.
You think I don’t know you? People like you?
People with mouths for hands.
I’ve got skin like topsoil
and your teeth could never take root.
So when you go looking to make a plaything
of a sunburst,
you better look for someone with less fire
than me.
Because softness or no,
I will eat you alive
before I let you make a meal of me.
Softness by Ashe Vernon (via perfume-your-neck)

1,691 notes

This year I will sleep more and cry more.
I will learn how to listen to my body,
How to feed her when she’s hungry
And not when she is bored, or lonely.
This year is about putting away apologies—
Shaking the old dust out of my bones,
Getting rid of people and places
That have stopped feeling like home.
.
This year is about the deep kind of soul searching
Reserved for brooding men in classic literature.
This year is for falling in love with all the ways
I am able to feel.
My world is vibrant and alive
And to numb myself would be to waste this body
To waste this breath.
.
Somewhere, billions of years ago,
A star died to put the marrow in my bones
And I ought to make good use of that.
.
I am the result of ten million factors all
Working against me ever coming into existence
And I am here anyway.
.
How could I forget that the same skin
That houses all my anxieties also holds
The same kind of rain that fills oceans?
I have a small lightning storm brewing
In the barrel of my ribs,
How could I forget that?
.
This year, I will be kind to my body,
Because she has always been kind to me.
Because she has entire orchestras beneath her fingernails,
And after so many years,
She deserves a good audience.
.
I am too young to feel so old.
This is the year I change that.
This Year, by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)

(via anditslove)