But I'm shocked by the tenderness in his voice. The sincerity with which he wants to know. He's like a feral dog, crazed and wild, thirsty for chaos, simultaneously aching for recognition and acceptance.
Love.
Stichwörter: omg-amazing
His lips soften into a smile that cracks apart my spine. He repeats my name like the word amuses him. Entertains him. Delights him. In seventeen years no one has said my name like that
Stichwörter: love compassion beautiful heartwarming pg-24
The sun drops into the ocean and splashes browns and red and yellows and oranges into the world outside my window.
Tahereh MafiRaindrops are my only reminder that clouds have a heartbeat. That I have one, too.
Tahereh MafiI think if I freeze myself I can freeze the pain.
Tahereh MafiFind me a cure for these tears, I'd really like to exhale for the first time in my life.
Tahereh MafiI'd really rather die than eat your food and listen to you call me love.
Tahereh MafiHis body presses closer and I realize I'm paying attention to nothing but the dandelions blowing wishes in my lungs.
Tahereh Mafiwe write every day, we fight every day, we think and scheme and dream a little dream every day. manuscripts pile up in the kitchen sink, run-on sentences dangle around our necks. we plant purple prose in our gardens and snip the adverbs only to thread them in our hair. we write with no guarantees, no certainties, no promises of what might come and we do it anyway. this is who we are.
Tahereh MafiStichwörter: writers writing-philosophy writing-process
I'm wearing dead cotton on my limbs and a blush of roses on my face.
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