ohsatsune:

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i want a word for the almost-home.

that point where the highway’s monotony becomes familiar
that subway stop whose name will always wake you from day’s-end dozing
that first glimpse of the skyline
that you never loved until you left it behind.

what do you call the exit sign you see even in your dreams?
is there a name for the airport terminal you come back to,
comfortably exhausted?

i need a word for rounding your corner onto your street,
for seeing your city on the horizon,
for flying homewards down your highway.

give me a word for the boundary
between the world you went to see
and the small one you call your own.

i want a word for the moment you know
you’re almost home.


there and back again, n.m.h. (via anoraborealis)
aintnobodybusiness:

babbyyyy
I ignored your aura but it grabbed me by the hand, like the moon pulled the tide, and the tide pulled the sand.
Talib Kweli, Beautiful. (via goldenskanz)
You are the first morning thought, the last evening sigh, and every goddamn thing in between.
(via put-you-first)
Untitled

j0hhnn:

I’ve been feeling like the weather lately. I’ve been off and on. I’ve been cold and bitter and warm and embracing. I’m torrid and solemn and everything in between.

Watching the reflections in the
Window; waiting for some sort of
Sign to keep breathing even though
This air has been feeling…

issietheshark:

margaret (2011)
sudeikat:

"When they don’t love you the way you want to, you mourn that for however long you need to. But then you get back up and you remind yourself. You are not a reflection of the people who can’t love you. You will love again. You will be loved again." - Caitlyn Siehl