I swear things will get better.
Even skinned knees and scraped palms
take some time to heal.
And you are chiseled marble,
sculpted into something lovely.
Stronger than diamonds,
and more beautiful too.
Your eyes reflect hardened obsidian,
birthed from flowing fire itself.
You might still be in pieces,
but you will be rebuilt.
And I will help.
So please, let me handle your scars.
I want to know them inside and out.
I promise I’ll be gentle, I know how tender they can be.
I am well trained in unsettled regrets after midnight,
and fluent in the language of comforting silence.
I know each jagged ridge holds so much you’ve lost
or tried to gain.
I know how much they mean to you.
I promise I’ll be gentle. by gardens don’t grow overnight (via christopherevan)
Deep breath in.
Listen to the floorboards moving gently in their slumber.
Focus on the slowly spinning ceiling fan,
as it matches the hum of the insects outside.
I know your hands are shaking for reasons
other than the cold room you’re in.
Concentrate on them.
Each finger counts the things that are
beautiful in you, and you are a radiant polydactyl.
No matter how it feels right now,
I promise you that you’re not alone.
Even the sun sent moonlight to grace you while it’s sleeping.
You will be okay.
I know how far you’ve come, and how far you have left to go.
You will get there. Tonight will not break you.
Because you are enough.
You are the abandoned lot outside my house,
with vegetation bursting through rusted fences.
Pushing up flowers through cracks in concrete,
reaching for vibrant sunlight.
You might be easily overlooked sometimes
but you sustain life even in the darkest places.
You are enough.
I don’t have things all figured out, and I know you don’t either.
Just repeat after me:
“I am enough.”
Deep breath out. by words will heal your wounds (via christopherevan)
yeah this kinda sucks a lot
The funny thing about introverts is once they feel comfortable with you, they can be the funniest, most enjoyable people to be around. It’s like a secret they feel comfortable sharing with you. Except the secret is their personality by (via c0gnaclilac)
I’m sitting here thinking of you, how I want to be with you, but I don’t just want the idea of you, I want the reality of you; the you that is hidden to the world.
I want the you without makeup, I want the you with makeup.
I want the you that makes me angry, I want the you that makes me happy.
I want the you in the cute dress, I want the you in the sweat pants.
I want the you that I can love well, I want the you that I can be friends with.
I want the you that I can make laugh, I want the you that I can make happy.
I want the you that has sad memories, I want the you that has happy memories.
I want the you that gets happy at seeing a friend, I want the you that doesn’t want to see that one friend.
I want the you from the past, present, and the future.
I want the you whose pillow has known more tears than dreams, I want the you whose mind is full of thoughts.
What I am trying to say is that I want you, all of you. by T.B. LaBerge // Unwritten Letters to You (via tblaberge)
I suppose that since most of our hurts come through relationships, so will our healing, and i know that grace rarely makes sense for those looking in from the outside. by
The Shack by William P. Young