"There’s that word again. Need. I need you. I need you to need me. How nauseating, to need another human being, as if their heart is in your throat. Love isn’t about need. Don’t romanticize the notion of desperation. Let me let you in on a secret: you don’t need me and I don’t need you. We can get through life just fine without each other. Love is not wanting to. We want each other, we want skin and hands and all our daily scars. We want intoxication and art museums and intertwined limbs. We want ferocity in our lips and slow, small circles traced on our stomachs. I don’t need you in my life, but goddamn I want you in it."
All the Want in the World Cannot Fit in Our Hands (via versteur)
Hellooooo there, gorgeous! We finally got our new car! Welcome to the family, Betty ❤️ #cla250 #benzfam #luckyducks #mb
"This is my first cabbage! You know, a lot of times they’re kind of soft, but this one is solid! It’s going to be good eatin’!"
"What are you going to make with it?"
"Well, this one I’m giving to my parents. You have to give the first one away or you just spoil the whole spirit of gardening."
Her face makes me SO HAPPY!
Me too, girl, me too.
n.s. white (via nathanielstuart)
I always wanted to tattoo this maya angelou’s poem and I decided to get it done last week. I’ve a history with ED, and this poem reminds me that matter what happens I’ll get through it and, as maya says, I’ll rise :)
Done by Adalto Franco - Gellys Tatto - SP, Brazil
Is this actually about erectile dysfunction? Because I might die from the sheer hilarity. You are fucking awesome.
i am not the story
you have been told.
i am not pure
i am not your fantasy
of an innocent you can corrupt.
you think he took me?
you think i knew not what i did
when i laughed and placed those crimson seeds
upon my tongue?
do not mistake my kindness
i am forest fires and flower buds
i am poisonous thorns and newborn foals
i am death and rebirth—
cross me at your peril.
(you shall find that pretty rose vines
are just as lovely when they wrap tight over your limbs
and shatter your bones.)
my lord, he brings me bloodstained flowers,
and i give him kisses laced with venom
he gifts me graveyards to plant my orchids
and i send him the torn heads of men
who wrong my maidens.
(i teach them combat alongside botany. both are arts.)
he rules with iron fist and i
with gentle touch.
we live and love in a curious harmony
of sweet birdsong
and the tortured screams of sinners.
come springtide i am bound to earth,
to my mother’s sunfilled meadows
her unequivocal, enduring love.
and by the fading light of summer
i return to my lover’s onyx walls
and cimmerian heart.
i cherish both but they know
they would have no claim on me if i did not desire it
for i belong to myself,
i am only my own—
half flowering creation,
half blistering hellfire.
he calls me his lady
but he knows
i am a queen.