It’s impossible to not impose my expectations and disappointments of my mother onto women I meet as an adult. I never wanted to see my mother drunk or with other men or to know about her escapades from her night out. Now, I’m drawn to these woman, as well as, hate them all.
I sit before flowers hoping they will train me in the art of opening up
(via loveyourchaos)
Let me feel it all,
and let all of you feel me.
Skin, breath, fingers, heat.
Writing is a lonely job. Having someone who believes in you makes a lot of difference. They don’t have to make speeches. Just believing is usually enough.