Spilledink

Words are oxygen...

140 notes

Bravery isn’t always the metallic clang of a gun and the splutter of a bullet; bravery isn’t always a battlefield splattered with blood; sometimes, when there is a catastrophe between your ribcage and your heart feels too heavy for your limbs to be able to carry – it is then that you are brave when you get up in the morning, with a blistered soul and stinging skin, and realize that you made it through another day when you didn’t think you could.
Wolves don’t always hide deep in forests; they don’t always stall for ambush behind needles of velveteen green; sometimes, they mask their glinting eyes and jagged teeth behind familiar faces. They don’t always bare their claws in murky alleys, sometimes, they live amongst us, waiting furtively for their chance to pounce and hunt.
Silence doesn’t always ring in your ears, doesn’t always deafen you; sometimes, it is more eloquent than words can ever be. Silence doesn’t always stifle language, sometimes, it speaks in tongues that can fracture jaws. Silence doesn’t always burn bridges to rubble, sometimes, it can re-ignite burnt up cinders and mend fences.
exoticwild - Not Always, But Sometimes  (via exoticwild)

(via exoticwild)

1 note

I must have always
been made for you:
today, I found the
curve of your smile
in the inside of my ribcage,
right next to my heart
that’s always been carved
with your name.

Filed under poetry poem love made for you

1 note

She wears her I love you
in between the syllables of my name,
in the way her arms tangle
around my body while we sleep,
baked between the berries
of the pie she made me
and in each smile and gentle kiss
she gives me.

Filed under poem poetry love