Maghrib At Home

A lesson in forgetting:
 the past always heals faster
 when you’re not looking. The way we try and hold
 onto memories like they are more
 than water. The way we look 
into the pools of our past
 searching for minnows, searching for fish. A lesson in remembering:
 the water is always smoother
 in retrospect. Where are the waves? Where are the currents? The way in which we tell ourselves we could do it again. Dive in again.
 Make it out alive. Last night, your voice touched me in my sleep;
 I woke up thinking about waterfalls.

Kelsey Danielle, “A Lesson in Forgetting” (via pigmenting)

396 photos merged into one image using the lighten blending mode in photoshop. I think this one pretty much covers the colour spectrum of sunsets, lacking only the darker reds. I can’t get enough of this technique!

Eighty-nine (source)

″One was a book thief. The other stole the sky.“

- Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

I. Black and white, I dream of hands I’ve never felt, the ghost of lips trace over my skin and it almost feels like a promise if I clench my teeth hard enough. II. We are both breathing the same stardust from a galaxy away, every inhale an unspoken ‘I love you,’ every exhale an ‘I’m sorry, I love him more.’ III. The stars continue to burn but I am already ashes. You are forever Apollo, rising in the East and I am falling like lukewarm snowflakes. IV. You don’t sleep enough to dream of my hand against your throat, you begging me to make you mortal- you never will be. You will forget about this. V. I will not. VI. Cassandra warned me not to love you and if I clench my teeth hard enough, I can pretend I never did.

oh, well isn’t this a tragedy || O.L. (via poetbitesback)

exposed, tortured, ecstatic—

Denise Levertov, from Sands of the Well: Poems; “Unaccompanied,” (via violentwavesofemotion)