archive this is a mess
we have now been accounted for
and it is written on our empty graves
that After everything still I stayed.
And I mean it.
I stayed. I stayed. I stayed.
― Buddy Wakefield, “Self-Portrait”   (via malglories)
I have so much of you in my heart.
― John Keats, from a letter to Fanny Brawne  (via dieworten)
I am a work in progress.
― Violet Yates, Lost & Found (via observando)
…how I
still, sometimes,
crave understanding.
Mary Oliver, from Long Life: Essays And Other Writings (via violentwavesofemotion)
You made me believe I was nothing.
Margaret Atwood, from Cat’s Eye (via violentwavesofemotion)
I feel nothing
I feel everything.
I don’t know which is worse.
― 2 am thoughts  (via melisica)