Sometimes I wish I could crawl within the interior of the pages of those who comfort me. To have the pages of Maya Angelou blanket me with strength. To honor my experiences with Sylvia Plath, to hold her hand and our strength together be enough to save us both. To rediscover nature walking in stride with Mary Oliver. Sometimes I wish I would become the page, the folded crane of the words of the women who had the strength to open their hearts like the pages of book, to open up and let me in as a lost child and build me up as a woman who honors all of my experiences as a triumphant memory. -MNH

"Not every man with a heart is understanding, nor every man with an ear a listener, and nor every man with eyes able to see."

Amīr al-Mu’mineen, Imam Ali (ع)

(Source: shi3iya, via wordswoman)

show me something more

hold me like the ground is falling to pieces
like my body is sinking, slowly slipping
and you are afraid to lose me-

seek me from my solitude,
as though every life line you might find,
every light in every tunnel disappeared
and you were left blind without me.

show me,
show me something more than words.

because i will not walk towards you,
until i know for certain you will stay.

-Farah Gabdon

(Source: wordswoman)

"Here I am, a bundle of past recollections and future dreams, knotted up in a reasonably attractive bundle of flesh. I remember what this flesh had gone through; I dream of what it may go through. I record here the actions of optical nerves, of taste buds, of sensory perception. And, I think: I am but one more drop in the great sea of matter, defined, with the ability to realize my existence."

— Sylvia Plath

(Source: uponswallows, via ocularappetite)

I have been treating you
like the bandage
when you might actually
be the wound.

(Source: merelyamadness)

Photo by Alina Lebedeva

Photo by Alina Lebedeva

(via disorders)

"She was bored. She loved, had capacity to love, for love, to give and accept love. Only she tried twice and failed twice to find somebody not just strong enough to deserve it, earn it, match it, but even brave enough to accept it."

— William Faulkner

(Source: hellanne, via psych-otography)

By TOMAAS

By TOMAAS

(via disorders)

Broken By: Edel Ahmed

Don’t talk to me about love if you don’t know what it is like to be broken,

Glue the wings onto spines of the million butterflies,

Fluttering helpless,

On hard wood floors,

In the basements of empty homes,

Echoing with the hopes of what could have been,

Don’t talk to me about love if you don’t know what it is like to be broken

(Source: poeticsoulinme, via wordswoman)