when all you've got is air it makes sense to run until you've suffocated - My name is Megan and I'm a printmaking major at Rhode Island School of Design

"already spoken", Jimmie James, 2013, 5"x 5" mixed media (photographs, acrylic paint, pencil) on watercolor paper

how should a person be


if i am honest
i can plant my grief 
like basil in the garden
take some time for myself
and cook with the growth

i keep secrets from myself
keep bouquets from lovers who couldn’t remember my name
swallow my spit before i speak
i am so shy

my legs are bruised
i don’t know how i got from there to here
marks on my skin tell my family i love them

heart like a chest of drawers yelling
'fill me'
i’ve been alone for too long

(via wrists)

"Understanding that people are always a worse version of who they want to be is a way of loving them."
Spencer Madsen, from You Can Make Anything Sad (Publishing Genius Press, 04.14)

(Source: mcnallyjackson, via aseriesofhellos)

"Just because two people are capable of deeply hurting each other over and over again does not make them passionate, star-crossed lovers. It makes them two people who keep doing terrible things to each other. Someone’s ability to make you completely and utterly soul-crushingly miserable does not mean they are a soul mate with some deep insight into your psyche. They are just someone who is really good at making you unhappy."
— Andrea Greb, You Are Not Blair Waldorf  (via theantiquated)

(via thatkindofwoman)

I’ve memorized the dance of mockery, and every morning I sing around my sadness, one two one two


"I’ve never been lonely. I’ve been in a room — I’ve felt suicidal. I’ve been depressed. I’ve felt awful — awful beyond all — but I never felt that one other person could enter that room and cure what was bothering me… or that any number of people could enter that room. In other words, loneliness is something I’ve never been bothered with because I’ve always had this terrible itch for solitude. It’s being at a party, or at a stadium full of people cheering for something, that I might feel loneliness. I’ll quote Ibsen, “The strongest men are the most alone.” I’ve never thought, “Well, some beautiful blonde will come in here and give me a fuck-job, rub my balls, and I’ll feel good.” No, that won’t help. You know the typical crowd, “Wow, it’s Friday night, what are you going to do? Just sit there?” Well, yeah. Because there’s nothing out there. It’s stupidity. Stupid people mingling with stupid people. Let them stupidify themselves. I’ve never been bothered with the need to rush out into the night. I hid in bars, because I didn’t want to hide in factories. That’s all. Sorry for all the millions, but I’ve never been lonely. I like myself. I’m the best form of entertainment I have. Let’s drink more wine!"
— Charles Bukowski, (via wingsfortheirsmiles)

(Source: kushandwizdom, via desacordes-acordados)