howl


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When Love Arrives

I knew exactly what love looked like
in seventh grade
.
Even though I hadn’t met love yet
if Love had wondered into my homeroom,
I would’ve recognized him at first glance.
Love wore a hemp necklace.

I would’ve recognized her at first glance.
Love wore a tight french braid.
Love played acoustic guitar,
and knew all my favorite Beatles songs.

Love wasn’t afraid to ride the bus with me.

And I knew,
I just must be searching the wrong classrooms;
just must be checking the wrong hallways.
She was there, I was sure of it.
If only I could find him.

But when Love finally showed up,
She had a bullcut.
He wore the same clothes every day for a week.
Love hated the bus.
Love didn’t know anything about the Beatles.

Instead,
Everytime I tried to kiss Love,
our teeth got in the way.
Love because the reason I lied to my parents.
I’m going to… Ben’s house
Love had terrible rhythm on the dance floor,
but made sure we never missed a slow song. 

Love waited by the phone,
because she knew if her father picked up
it would be, (heavy breathing)
“Hello, hello… I guess they hang up.”

And Love grew…
Stretched like a trampoline.
Love changed.
Love disappeared
slowly, like baby teeth
losing parts of me I thought I needed.

Love vanished like an amateur magician,
everyone could see the trapdoor but me.
Like a flat tire,
there were other places I had planned on going

but my plans didn’t matter.

Love stayed away for years.
And when Love finally reappeared,
I barely recognized him.

Love smelled different now,
had darker eyes,
a broader back.
Love came with freckles I didn’t recognize,

new birthmarks,
a softer voice.
Now there were new sleeping patterns,
new favorite books.
Love had songs that reminded him of someone else;
songs Love didn’t like to listen to
so did I.

But we found a park bench that fit us perfectly.
We found jokes that make us laugh.
And now Love makes me fresh homemade chocolate cookies.
But Love will probably finish most of them for a midnight snack.

Love looks great in lingerie but still likes to wear her retainer.
Love is a terrible driver but a great navigator.
Love knows where she’s going,
it just might take her two hours longer than she planned.

Love is messier now;
not as simple.
Love uses the word ‘boobs’ in front of my parents.
Love chews too loudly.
Love leaves the cap off the toothpaste.
Love uses smiley messages in her text messages
And turns out,
Love shits.

But Love also cries.
And Love will tell you, “You are beautiful.”

And mean it.
Over and over again,
“You are beautiful.”
When you first wake up,
“You are beautiful.”
When you’ve just been crying,
“You are beautiful.”
When you don’t want to hear it,
“You are beautiful.”
When you don’t believe it,
“You are beautiful.”
When nobody else will tell you,
“You are beautiful.”
Love still thinks,
“You are beautiful.”

But love is not perfect,
and will sometimes forget,
when you need to hear it most,
“You are beautiful.”
Do not forget this.

Love is not who you are expecting.
Love is not what you can predict.

Maybe Love is in New York City,
already asleep.
You are in California, Australia,
wide awake.
Maybe Love is always in the wrong timezone.

Maybe Love is not ready for you.
Maybe you are not ready for Love.
Maybe Love just isn’t the marrying type.
Maybe the next time you see Love is twenty years after the divorce.
Love looks older now but just as beautiful as you remembered.

Maybe Love is only there for a month.
Maybe Love is there for every firework,
every birthday party,
every hospital visit.

Maybe Love stays.
Maybe Love can’t.
Maybe Love shouldn’t.

Love arrives exactly when Love is supposed to.
And Love leaves exactly when Love must.

When Love arrives,
say, “Welcome, make yourself comfortable.”
If Love leaves,
ask her to leave the door open behind her,
turn off the music,
listen to the quiet,

whisper, “Thank you for stopping by.”

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Permalink | 0 notes Ring in the New Year with STS9 by scheduling a post about Conscious Alliance’s Art That Feeds campaign
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I can’t give you that.

piercethesirens08:

Tom: “I just want some consistency. That you won’t wake up one morning and think differently.”

Summer: “I can’t give you that. No one can.”

yes.

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Permalink | 17 notes cherryblossom9994:

Untitled | via Tumblr on We Heart It. http://weheartit.com/entry/84143881/via/sarah_cepeda_3
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Permalink | 60,395 notes cherry-and-also-bomb:

♡♡♡
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Then said Almitra, “Speak to us of Love.”
And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said:
When love beckons to you follow her,
Though her ways are hard and steep.
And when her wings enfold you yield to her,
Though the sword hidden among her pinions may wound you. And when she speaks to you believe in her,
Though her voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall she crucify you. Even as she is for your growth so is she for your pruning.
Even as she ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall she descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth. Like sheaves of corn she gathers you unto herself.
She threshes you to make you naked.
She sifts you to free you from your husks.
She grinds you to whiteness.
She kneads you until you are pliant;
And then she assigns you to her sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love. When you love you should not say, “God is in my heart,” but rather, I am in the heart of God.”
And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

Permalink | 296 notes "make love
like you have no
secrets
like you’ve
never been
left
never been
hurt
like the world
don’t owe you a
single
wretched
thing.
" — Warsan Shire. (via theburnthatkeepseverything)

(via theburnthatkeepseverything)

Permalink | 262,667 notes
Permalink | 25,229 notes "Of all the people you have kissed she was your favourite because she didn’t flinch when you curled your hand around her neck and tightened.
She said “I break the law because I’ve never broken a heart and I want to know what it feels like to be the brick not the window pane”.
When she’s drunk she’ll dress up for you, all straps & lace & stockings. When she’s high she’ll dress down for you, all skin & skin & skin.
" — Annabelle Nyst (via youngfolksociety)

(Source: bluehotel77, via youngfolksociety)

Permalink | 1,617 notes darksilenceinsuburbia:

Francisco Provedo. The Inner Light I.
http://www.behance.net/franciscoprovedo
Permalink | 1,392 notes The best way to wake up.