I will teach my daughter not to wear her skin like a drunken apology.
I will tell her ‘make a home out of your body, live in yourself, do not let people turn you into a regret, do not justify yourself. If you are a disaster it is not forever, if you are a disaster you are the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen. Do not deconstruct from the inside out, you belong here, you belong here, not because you are lovely, but because you are more than that.’
— Azra.T - “Your hands are threads, your body is a canvas.” (via aurelle)
You created an ache in me that won’t seem to go away.
— T.B. LaBerge // The Novel of Us (via anditslove)
People hate that I flip two cigarettes
Upside down in each pack
But I hate that people notice
When you gain three pounds,
But not when you buy a new hat.
I’ve been told that the way I sleep
With one leg draped over
The person lying next to me
But I think it’s annoying
When people tell me
I look pretty,
But only when I paint my face.
I’ve heard that old men
Like to touch the girls who work late at bars,
But I want to know
Why they never kiss the women they married
fourty-two years ago.
I’ve noticed that mothers teach their daughters
That it’s rude to refuse a hug
From an uncle they’ve met three times,
But forget to teach them
That they aren’t obliged to kiss
The boy who paid for dinner.
— (via wellbothdrinkanddrive)
And it’s hard to hate someone once you understand them.
— Lucy Christopher, Stolen: A Letter to My Captor (via fuckinq)