.

Hey! I was wondering if you knew more poems about fathers (in relation to having a difficult relationship with one?)

Let Your Father Die Energy Drink by Daniel Lavery and Cecelia Corrigan

Do You Consider Writing to be Therapeutic? by Andrew Grace

Real Estate by Richard Siken

This Be the Verse by Philip Larkin

Backwards by Warsan Shire

My Father's Hands by Dave Harris

Boy and the Belt / Poem to Take the Belt Out of My Dad's Hands by José Olivarez

My Father Writes From Prison by Ocean Vuong

andrew garfield saying, “i hope this grief stays with me because it’s all the unexpressed love that i didn’t get to tell her” about his mothers passing is so gut wrenchingly beautiful because we rarely talk about the love we want to express but can’t, not because you’re not brave enough to say it out loud but because they’re not here to listen to it anymore. calling grief the love you never had the chance to share makes it less of a burden and more of something you want to keep and not something terrible you want to move on from. i love love how everything about grief always comes down to “what is grief if not love persevering?”

tears and saints, e.m. cioran

actual footage of me post-season two trying to figure out who ISNT related at this point:

so my mom finally finished reading the secret history and the first thing she said was «they're all such idiots»

couldn't agree more, mom

i am afraid of love,

of hurting people, of breaking their hearts and leaving them. it feels like i’m not capable of loving someone for a long time and i can’t do anything about it — i just have to wake up every morning, knowing that my feelings are slowly fading, until one day i open my tired eyes and understang — all i feel is an eternal emptiness in my chest. 

‘i don’t love you anymore,’ i say quietly into the darkness.

‘please, stay. we can still make it work. we are a perfect couple. i love you.’

‘no,’ i reply with a cold voice. it hurts, and i can’t handle it. i am sorry. i am sorry. i am so fucking sorry.

i can’t afford to love someone anymore — it would be incredibly cruel to them.

i've been having a fever of 39°C for two days and imagining my nonexistent lover, who just received a letter about my illness, running through the wind and snow to leave the last kiss on my dry lips is the only thing that keeps me alive

alt!magnus really said fuck capitalism so we have no choice but to stan

marina tsvetaeva and sergey efron; 1911, 1914.

The paper called Eli a hero. The word made Victor laugh. Not just because it was absurd, but because it posed a question. If Eli really was a hero, and Victor meant to stop him, did that make him a villain? He took a long sip of his drink, tipped his head back against the couch, and decided he could live with that.

― V.E. Schwab, Vicious