I am a bold, silent thing. I am a composition of sentence fragments and incomplete thoughts. I am both the food which satisfies my own hunger and the empty stomach. I am a blackboard - life chalks its lessons on me all of the time - the more she writes, the vaster I become. I am transparent only to those who have made solitude their companion, as have I. I am a book with blown off dust titled “I dont know” - I am a native language speaking a foreign language. I am a poem with writers block. I am a collection of choices and a collage of results. I am the logos in the spring time. I am improvised energy, an interpretation. All that I am are merely illusions to the truth. I am an artist, and all which I say I am are only so because I have created them.
Find someone that doesn’t just plant flowers in the worst part of you, but waters the dead ones.
— (via zapisane-we-krwii)
I’ve shown you parts of me that even I have not gained the courage enough to visit.
— agape. (via agapebone)