I can’t decide which I want to do more: run or cycle down this path.
There’s beauty in a lack of equilibrium. 

I can’t decide which I want to do more: run or cycle down this path.

There’s beauty in a lack of equilibrium. 

https://soundcloud.com/2am-club/tell-her-hi

'I don't really wanna say it but 
I’ve always been a weak soul when a cheap touch
Come around looking like love maybe so
I’ve been chasing what I’ve seen in the videos
When your chest might break from the butterflies
Circling your stomach hurting on the inside’

Where I went wrong

You’re coming in at the wrong time, ringing these clanging bells that make my ears hurt, threatening to upend my stomach contents onto this tired floor. And I’m afraid that amidst this mess, I will find my regrets, still as ugly as they were all those months ago, reminding me that I haven’t come far enough. No, I haven’t. I’m thinking that I don’t owe you anything, that I don’t have to tie myself up in these knots that I can’t undo; and yet I do. Because I broke everything that mattered.

I could blame it on him, but in all fucking honesty, I didn’t care enough to ask. Through my tipsy clouded eyes as I fell smack bang onto his lips, I didn’t stop when I could’ve. Messy limbs that made it impossible to know where I ended and he started, and twisted desires that no one could’ve unravelled - it wasn’t meant to be like that. We shouldn’t have begun and so it ended before I knew what to call it, because he was both a nightmare and a dream.

My answer could lie in my broken heart, which didn’t believe in happy endings anymore, and had a big slap delivered right where it hurt in the dead of the night. I close my eyes and I see it happen. It’s been so long, and yet I haven’t forgotten. I see glimpses of him, and I see it happen. The weight of the memory crushes me, and it’s hard to forget when it stops me from breathing. I will never leave it behind because this is where I live, every goddamn day. Only remembering what I have now soothes the pain, dulls it to that ache which has occupied a space of my heart that I don’t remember giving it. And I don’t want to give him more than he’s already taken, but I just can’t take it back.

But these are my excuses, reasons I told myself so I could sleep at night even as I dreamt of forgiveness. Here I am again, so afraid to know what you want, and what’s left for the both of us. It could be me, making this seem more than it is, as I do. But I don’t know if you really know how sorry I was. How sorry I am.

Couldn’t possibly love this song or video any more than I do.

The less you know, the sounder you sleep.

Thirty-six wonderful hours that started and ended at different airports.

You and me. Holding your hand, touching your face, telling silly stories, listening to you talk about how you carry on your days without me, and I have to do the same. 

Three hundred and sixty seconds after leaving the airport without you, I was in tears.

It feels like I’d only just begun to get over the pain, when I carved open this wound all over again. I remember what it feels like to have you next to me, within reach, holding me close, but still I cling onto your arms and make you embrace me tighter. As if you’re never letting me go as you plant kisses on my shoulder that will keep me safe.

Wish you could tell me that we don’t have to say goodbye, without knowing exactly when we’ll get to kiss each other hello again. 

IMHO the best in the soundtrack.

IMHO the best in the soundtrack.

Still in my dreams,
you were so damn beautiful.
lam·bent: My lover refuses to hold my hand in public, he won’t meet my eyes,...

5000letters:

My lover refuses to hold my hand in public, he won’t meet my eyes, when they ask ‘are you together?’
He shakes his head fervently as though he did not spend the night before between my thighs
as though my hips are not bruised from the weight of his love

I want to ask him if it is something I…

we took such care of tomorrow, but died on the way there.

(Source: simpleclassychic)

Find the scars on me
and press your lips upon them.
Soothe what always ached.

Man.

It just ain’t funny no more. :( 

jesuisperdu:

wolfgang tillmans

jesuisperdu:

wolfgang tillmans

Every. single. time.

Every. single. time.

(Source: acheloi-s)