infinitele
When you are lonely, sit with it. Feel it move through your veins. Feel it mix with your breath. There is only one way out of this and that is through. Feel how strong you are to be able to live with such quiet around you and such roars within you. Listen to your heart, how it beats like the thin hand of a clock. Ask it what it wants. Make lists of all the things you dream will fill this space one day. A clapboard house with coffee simmering on the stove. A rusty bike and someone to ride it with. Homemade bread and a hand to hold.
When you are lonely, remind yourself how awful it feels to fill this time with anything other than what you truly yearn for. You could go to his bed- nothing would stop you, you could go right now- but you wouldn’t feel any less alone while lying next to someone when that someone doesn’t love you like you deserve. He doesn’t know about the knot in the bottom of your stomach and he’ll fall asleep before it loosens.
When you are lonely, cultivate it. Cradle it. These moments feel like background noise but they are anything but. You are learning your way around yourself. You are drawing a map you will consult for the rest of your life. Ask yourself the hard things. How do you like your eggs cooked? Do you want to have children? How do you feel about global warming? When no one else is around, you can hear your own voice. Even if it is a gentle, quiet thing there are so many things you can learn from it. Take your time.
When you are lonely, light a candle that smells like home or maybe one that smells like pine trees you’ve never seen before. Kiss your forehead in the mirror and have a glass of wine. Write a poem. Or don’t.
When you are lonely, the universe is giving you space to be with yourself. Don’t waste it.
Fortesa Latifi - When You Are Lonely (via madgirlf)
infinitele
We try to love what cannot be tamed. Wild horses,
clear vodka in shapely bottles, angry men and the things
they carry. We have done what we could. They say
anything they can to justify leaving. That we are
always sad. That we have let our hearts burn out
for lesser things than them. They accuse us of being
too sad to love. We’re not sure where we’ve learned
this, to want the things we know we can’t have.
We put on a dress, any dress. Lick our black lips,
pin up our hair. We have learned to kiss boys
with our tongues in the dark. They say after,
there is fire in our breath when we sleep. Chances are,
we are all the same, riding high on velvet blue nights.
Our weaknesses have names and phone numbers,
addresses we can send anonymous letters to,
detailing our escape. We are praying for sixteen again,
for tulle and prom dresses and clear skin and boys
who still have to ask to hold our hands. They say
they can find us by our cheekbones, that they are
small, miraculous sources of light. We’re doomed
without our mothers. Sometimes we’re safe
but usually we’re not. The crime scene tape
should have been your first clue.
Kristina Haynes, “We Try to Love” (via fleurishes)