— Jeremy Radin, From “So I Locked Myself Inside A Star For Twenty Years.”

“But I must admit I miss you terribly. The world is too quiet without you nearby.”

— Lemony Snicket; The Beatrice Letters

Fariha Róisín, from Who Is Wellness For?: An Examination of Wellness Culture and Who It Leaves Behind

[Text ID: “I never fought back, I learned how to cry silently, I bore my sins.”]

“Your naked body should only belong to those who fall in love with your naked soul.”

— Charlie Chaplin in a letter to his daughter, Geraldine (via thehopefulquotes)

“Sometimes you have to do what’s best for you, not what’s best for somebody else.”

— Unknown (via stay-close)

Velimir Khlebnikov, from Collected Poems & Selected Writings; “Everland,”

the poetry of brown eyes

There needs to be more poetic descriptions of brown eyes in literature, so I wrote some.

It was as if the stars had lent their light to his eyes, etching their constellations into the rich black-brown and painting a sky of their own inside them.

Their eyes held the hue of tea-stained lace, soft and delicate and rich, a wash of gentle brown against the harsh dark shadows of the world.

Her eyes held the nostalgia of summer memories. It was the way they turned into the warmest brown under the sun, like the richest, darkest honey; the way tendrils of amber like the juice of a nectarine streaked their way through, wreathing the pupil in a symphony of golds.

Her eyes were bright and dancing, like the curious ruffled feathers of a sparrow — and as flighty as one, too, darting quickly and nervously away, her gaze fluttering across different spots of the room erratically.

His gaze locked on him, intense and searching. The black, shadowy depths of his eyes shrouded him, leaving him desperately scrabbling for an escape from the dark pull of his stare.

Their eyes had a distinct sense of antiquity to them, the precise hue of a worn, leather-bound book and the faded mahogany of a desk from a time long lost.

If you use or are inspired by these while writing, I'd love it if you tagged me so I can gush over your amazing work :)

Take care of your loved ones, particularly when they are doing everything in their power to push you away. A broken heart, like a wounded beast, will often lash out at those it is nearest, but that does not mean they don’t need you.

Beau Taplin

Men and what doesn't belong to them

The price tag is at $30, too overpriced for a simple doll

The sky is pitch black by the time I leave the mall, my hands empty-handed and freezing

A breeze of air sends strands of hair onto my face

A buzz emerges from my back pocket

Where are you?

I turn off the screen, I can't be seen distracted, especially at night

It's like my mom's warnings are screeching against my ear

She tells me of men who hide in dark alleyways, biting like dogs at woman's feet

She reminds me of how my cousin was dragged by one of those dogs, how her eyes don't glow like they used to

She walked too much like a woman, that's why they caught her, she tells me

Because they can't blame her for her baggy clothing

But how do I tell her that my father is like those men?

Pulling her wherever he pleases, dressing her how he sees fit

It's as if the wedding certificate, buried inside a memory box, is the same thing as the receipt that's pushed by the wind

I walk briskly under the street lights, my heart beats loudly every time a car slows down

Even if I'm in the middle of a crowd, it'll only give me the illusion of safety

I wonder if my friend felt helpless, as my 4th grade teacher hugged her tightly, knowing everyone's eyes were on her

I heard of a story on the radio with my grandma once, of a woman who was sold as a child to a much older man

She sighed. Thank God, we aren't in that wretched country anymore.

I couldn't find it in me to tell her that this happens everywhere, even in the safety of a “first world country”

I look at his message one last time, knowing I'll never see his picture again

If you don't answer this time, I swear I'll ki—

I should have known that he was like every man, poor, rich, old, and young, with what doesn't belong to him

Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, from “Carmilla”

“The past doesn’t need you anymore. Your future does.”

— Unknown