callhermayday:

and her words seeped through my skin, through those holes like shot out stars our love had formed, and found my aching bones, filling up what went hollow, healing.

likelava:

i need you to know that this was never a cop-out, this was never a result of fear. this is provoking something to be afraid of, instigating a risk i would have never taken otherwise. because i want to know the rules only so that i can break them, find the standards just to shake them. i won’t nod my head and do it your way, i won’t let my dreams burn to the ground, i won’t waste my time learning answers and never asking the right questions. and i’ll be okay. i’ll write in journals and watch like a shadow. i’ll embed each season beneath my skin, catch each star wink in the heat of their glow and pull them into the drawers of my chest where they never yawn but just keep blinking. i’ll live inside my head, pull everything together and pick everything apart. i’ll collect every source of light like stones that knead into my thoughts, take each experience like shaking knees that kneel into my head. and i will be poor and i will be miserable. i will be scared and skeptical. i will be shell-shocked and fascinated. and i won’t always be happy. and sometimes i’m going to cry. but sometimes i’m going to laugh. and sometimes i’m going to feel so grateful for my stupid little life. and i’ll never stop or give up. because standardized tests and prerequisites won’t tell me how to shake the fucking world, they’ll teach me how to succumb to it. and that is the last thing i feel like learning how to do.

callhermayday:

something in the consonants and vowels, the arrangement of symbols, the catch of breath between syllables, the play of tongue and teeth that makes me want to rub up against the sound. it’s like lake effect snow felling shorelines silent, or ripples from thrown skip stones, gentle but for hiding a deeper thing, clean but for the bite, uncrossed stars or unmet leagues, miles before sleep. and then it’s like left leisure slow waking, duck down, paddle soft swaths, pale cotton linens and eggshell light through the window pane before broken dawn bids on the brightness of day. pride and peace, circles of circles, in lowercases and capitals, i love these words but i could call you better than by the letters of your name.

callhermayday:

likelava:

and this is what i love about all that i know. when all it takes is the right weather, the way the sun falls in its early afternoon, when you have all the right words, or when you’re riding in the backseat of a car at night and the right song comes on as the stars shyly peek out, and instantly everything seems possible. all of a sudden it feels as though some beautiful strategy can be revealed, or some wild secret can make all your dreams come true. and even in these rare moments where all of the disheveled pieces of who i am make sense only for a second, i know that at least it is possible for them to make sense. i know that at least it is possible for potential to thrive even in the darkest areas of my day-to-day life. and i am dazzled by what it means to exist, everytime.

callhermayday:

i’d written, i’d said to you. but how far does the change go? how far down the rabbit hole? the wishing well? do i flood there in the stalewater tides of us, the moon that tugged you turned us over. my namesake, i’m a star, burn hot and bright and end supernova, reflecting light back to you, through your every wind, i was north, transfixed, your natural compass. another girl looked at me, saw the ocean. miles and leagues of watery deep. i went out to sea so often to find the keys to sleep. is this what’s left from your hurricane sway? salt water supersaturated skin? a star silenced under water weight, shipwrecked without constellations, velvet cloud masses. so hard to burn so bright when damp fire doesn’t take. all pretty things drown down.